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[Phoenixian Wraith]

Chapter One: A New Life is Revealed

In this world, there are many types of people, but there are only a few that most take note of - those that follow their destiny, whatever that may be, and those that grip their destiny and write it themselves. However, the person of interest in this story is part of a third group, one where they help those that create their own, no matter the cost. We look now at the beginning of that child's life, in a hospital on Shade-Isle...

Fluorescent lights lined the hallway, bringing the muted, light grey walls to a peculiar shine that made everything almost dreamlike, especially in the abandoned ward. A lone man sat hunched, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped, in the end seat of a row of chairs, the only sign of life being the steady rise and fall of his back as he breathed, waiting. Waiting.

Suddenly, a hoarse, agonising scream rent the quiet of the hospital, seeming to echo for an eternity down the vacant hall. The man's head snapped up, his eyes bursting with frustration and concern as he stared intently at the door in front of him, willing himself to stay seated and allow the doctor to do her work. A muscle jumped in his neck as though he were physically fighting himself not to barge in like a Kikanalo. Then the sound he had been waiting, straining to hear, came.

The crying of a newborn.

The man relaxed with a sigh of relief, rolling his shoulders to work out the kink in his neck that had been there for what felt like an hour. Then he stood up, breathed deeply, strode to the door and, without knocking, let himself in. In the first bed on the right, surrounded by the doctor and two nurses, was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he had ever known. Ielarae Ahkotsku, her deep azure hair haloing her head and neck in a stringy, knotted mess, her hazelnut brown skin glistening with sweat that reflected the cold, hard fluorescent light into almost an aurora around her, her half lidded eyelids failing to hide her rich amber eyes, usually full of excitement and mischief, now empty with effort but yet lit with love and compassion as she stared down.

Within her arms lay a bundle of cloth almost like a pillow, the babe nestled inside no longer crying but sleeping contentedly, occasionally waving a tiny hand in front like it was trying to catch a dream. His skin was a healthy pinkish-peach, and his hair was a veritable mess of black. Neiphelm Ahkotsku looked down at his wife and newborn son with love and fatherly tenderness. As he stared down onto his son, oblivious to the congratulations that were lavished upon him by the staff, the boy opened his eyes and stared back at him, his eyes the colour of the clouds of a fine day, flecks of golden-amber spread haphazardly within the blank stare that rapidly grew into what could only be described as warmth and love.

As Neiphelm and Ielarae stared with wonder, the young Ahkotsku's little mouth broke into a wide, open smile as he gurgled happily before returning to his slumber.

"Neiph?" Her voice, husky though it was from the exertion, still held the melodious tone that had captivated him so long ago.
"Yes, Iela?" His voice, though rough from disuse for such a long time, carried with it the strength and confidence that had won her heart.
"What shall we name him?"
"How about... Phaenyx." Almost as though he had heard them, the babe stirred and stared sleepily up at his parents before dozing off again. Neiphelm and Ielarae smiled as they saw his reaction, and without needing to consult any further, decided upon the name.

Sitting carefully on the side of the bed so as to not disturb the peaceful scene, Neiphelm wrapped an arm around his beloveds shoulders and gently pulled her close, placing his other hand on top of his wife's where it held together the blankets around his naked son, as they bent their heads in unison and whispered gently,

"Welcome to the world, Phaenyx Ahkotsku."

As the new parents embraced each other and their newborn baby, the hospital fades as time blurs and shifts forwards...

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Edited by Phoenixian Wraith, Sep 17 2012 - 05:30 AM.

[Phoenixian Wraith]

Chapter Two: Rage of a Father and Husband.

 

As the white fog begins to lift, we see a faint shade of a person fading with it. It becomes a minor concern as the surroundings become clearer, showing a small mansion that lies on the south-western coast of Shade-Isle and flanked by a magnificent garden to its left with an imposing forest to its right. Coupled with the sea in the background, with a border of grass smoothly becoming sand, it was rather picturesque.

 

It was six years since the birth of Phaenyx Ahkotsku, and already the Ahkotsku family had been blessed with another four years after him; another boy, this one with a head of azure and, sadly as it may be, blind in his left eye. His name is Dreykin Ahkotsku. We see now, a portion of the Ahkotsku family’s strength…

 

Phaenyx ran up, down and around the small hill, located near their home, that was a rather popular picnic spot located on Shade-Isle, his mother keeping a careful eye on him as she nursed the two year old Dreykin; Phaenyx had already acquired a habit of being there one moment, and then with a blink of an eye he would be some four yards away chasing something. Neiphelm had had to help another member of the thrice-branched Ahkotsku family tree, and so had promised to be there to watch the sunset at the very least.

 

 

“Mayhaps we might steal a moment of our guests time to explain the family ‘tree’?” A voice, suddenly cutting through the memory-stream like a sickle through wheat, questioned in a tone of ancient power. “It goes as thus;

 

 

“The ‘trunk’ of the tree is those that handle the hardworking side of life; the farmers, labourers and such, and is the largest of said ‘tree’, though also the most… diluted, shall we say?”

 

“The second largest are those that have ‘nobility’ status; they are gifted with handling affairs both political and practical, as well as a rather large sum of gold. However, they are also the shallowest of the three.”

 

“The last, and smallest, is the branch of the fighters. They are well known for being proficient in their own way and going great lengths to protect what they desire.”

 

As Phaenyx continued to run around (pretending to be in a Bioni-Lord battle if his mutterings and yells were anything to judge by, his mother thought), they failed to notice the shadows that steadily rose toward them. When Ielarae detected the presences, she turned to see five young men grinning nastily, their movements cocky and sure.

 

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?” the one on the far left, Warren, asked, speaking slowly to make sure that they all heard, his skin a sickly pale colour.

 

“Dun’na, but i’ look like we gotta coupla tre’pass’rs,” smirked the one to his immediate right, a rather heavyset person named Demetri.

 

 

“Yeah,” giggled Urich, the far right one, his brown eyes full of a cold glee. “Reckon they gonna fight like the last lot?”

 

 

“Please,” scoffed Jacka, scratching his mane of brown hair, next to him, “One woman and two kids? Even if they do, it’ll be a waste of time.”

 

The middle one, obviously the leader, smiled coldly as he stared into Ielarae’s calm, yet defensive eyes. Locky rubbed just under his nose as he looked and, making his decision, nodded to himself.

 

“What say we have some… ‘fun’, boys?”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

As Neiphelm rounded a stand of trees on the path to the picnic spot, he froze as he saw the five men surround his family. There was no-one else who it would be, simple as that.

 

He watched as Iela gripped Dreykin tightly to her chest, not wanting to give the thugs any chance to hurt him.

 

He watched as the heaviest one grabbed a hold of Phaenyx by the arms, and felt pride as Phaenyx launched a kick into his groin then swing his head into the man’s nose as he bent in pain.

 

 

He stared in terror as another grabbed Phaenyx’s arms from behind, while the now bleeding heavy got up and brandished a knife.

 

As Ielarae screamed, the man swept the knife towards Phaenyx.

 

As the knife got closer, Neiphelm felt his heartbeat for the first time. When he did, a pulse rushed through his body. As he looked upon the scene about to unfurl, Neiphelm decided something.

 

No-one. Hurt. His. FAMILY.

 

With that thought, came another. He would make them pay.

 

He faded into the shadows.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

“Stupid kid!” cursed Demetri as his knife almost came into contact the brat’s chest. Suddenly, he felt an immense pressure erupt on the back of his head as the rest of the gang yelped in surprise. He reached back and felt fingers, then a hand, and finally an arm. Abruptly, he found himself being dragged back then thrown into a tree. A tree that was about fifty metres away, he thought groggily before blacking out.

 

 

As Warren, Urich, Jacka and Locky stared, the arm that had so casually thrown Demetri steadily formed into the rest of the man that, just a moment ago, been nothing more the wispy shadows. Neiphelm stared back at them, his eyes hardened by controlled fury. Unnoticed by any of them, Phaenyx ran into his mothers arms, Dreykin crying from the noise.

 

Warren and Urich suddenly launched themselves at him, intending to punish him for his act. Neiphelm sidestepped past Warren, keeping him on his right before grabbing his wrist and pulling him into his knee for extra force. Warren, having been so effectively winded and stunned, didn’t even notice Neiph’s grip on his wrist was gone, nor his elbow sweeping up and smashing into the base of his nose before seeing only black.

 

Neiphelm, seeing that Warren was out cold, grabbed the latter by the shoulder and, twisting his body to remove his knee from his body whilst wrenching Warren forward and onto the ground, proceeded to kick Urich rather heavily in the sternum with his ankle. Urich, coughing and clutching at his chest, backed away a few steps before Neiph’s hook powered into the side of his face.

 

Jacka and Locky had regained their senses and both were frantically searching themselves for Orbs. As a clump of grass was crushed, the rasping noise alerting Jacka, he looked up to see Neiph’s arm coated in Shadow energy.

 

“What the?!” screamed Jacka as the Shadow infused punch collected with his body in a reverse coat hanger manoeuvre before exploding into a Shadow Crasher move. The feeling of shock was replaced by pain as his head struck the ground, then nothing.

 

Locky, having fused with a MetalBeetle spirit, couldn’t believe his eyes. A single man had somehow appeared, quite literally, out of nowhere, taken three of his friends down, before using a Shadow Element move out of Fusion. Said man was now staring at Locky, who suddenly felt a great fear and decided he would try and bargain with this monster.

 

Raising a cannoned arm at Ielarae, he prepared a single-armed Bolo Thunder. Though it would be so much weaker than normal, as it required both arms for full strength, it would still do a good enough job to create a bargaining chip.

 

“I’m gonna guess you’re here to save the lady,” started Locky, faltering as Neiph’s eyes suddenly sharpened and narrowed, “S... so how about if you let me go, I’ll let her live.”

 

Neiphelm slowly clenched his fist tightly, and then bent down as if to…

 

Locky swore then discharged his Bolo Thunder at Ielarae… only for him to notice he was actually further away from her then he started. He stared in confusion before looking down as pain grew in his chest, where the sight he saw caused his eyes to widen in horror.

 

Neiphelm was there, his fist sunken into the heavy armour plating over Locky’s chest. He took a step forward, bracing himself, then threw his entire strength into that one punch, ignoring the sharp cracks that generated from his hand, as the immensely heavy Spirit-Fused thug was flung about fifteen metres back, sliding an extra five feet before smashing his head into a sturdy boulder.

 

Turning back to his family, Neiphelm managed a wry smile as he asked,

 

 

“I’m not late, am I?”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Later, at the Shade-Isle hospital…

 

“Dad, how’d ya do that?” asked a persistent Phaenyx, his eyes wide and excited after what transpired. “Can you teach me? Is it hard to learn? Would it take long?”

 

You get the idea of his questions.

 

Neiphelm, patiently sitting as the doctor finished layering up the cast for his hand while Ielarae rocked Drekin’s pram gently, shook his head with a smile.

 

“Phey,” he began, chuckling as Phaenyx immediately quietened down to listen. “I don’t know how it happened, nor if it can be learned. At best, I’d say it’s something that only happens under great stress, or when someone you care about is in danger. But,” Neiphelm held up his uninjured left hand to point a warning finger at Phaenyx, “I don’t want to hear that you’ve been trying to learn this, understand? You could hurt yourself worse then what I’ve done today, and think of what your mother and I would feel if we found out about that.”

 

Phaenyx thought about that for a few moments, imagining the distress his parents would be in… especially if it was on purpose. He didn’t want to do that, not to his family.

 

“Okay Dad.” Phaenyx said, the matter clearly settled.

 

As the hospital room starts to fade away, the Ahkotsku’s begin discussing other, less important things. However, our attention is drawn to the hazily outlined figure watching them, before the scene fades away completely.

 

 

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Edited by Phoenixian Wraith, Apr 08 2013 - 01:35 AM.

[Phoenixian Wraith]

Chapter Three: The 'Whole Family' Part 1

Four years later…

As a rather exquisite mansion, festooned with lights and various decorations, appears over the edge of a hill, a flickeringly-edged figure fades into the shadows, their face obscured in even darker shadows by the hood of the cloak they wore. The focus of this tale, however, lies within a carriage drawn by a tamed Muaka Spirit…

“Dad, did we really need to dress up THIS much?”

Complaining about the party ahead.

Neiphelm sighed as he watched the nine-year-old Phaenyx struggle to loosen the apparently claustrophobic, though plain, tuxedo he wore. He’d already managed to demolish the poor tie, the remains of which were currently on the floor, and was now attempting to rip his jacket and dress shirt off in ‘superhero’ fashion by the look of it. With a giggle at the whole scene, Ielarae leaned in and deftly undid the top three buttons before smoothing the jacket and shirt down to push away the wrinkles.

“I mean, why couldn’t I wear the same sorta thing Drey’s got on?”

Sitting to Phaenyx’s left, Dreykin sat leaned into the corner between the seat and the door. A casual observer would assume the six-year-old was looking out into the night, but the truth was that his good, muted-emerald coloured eye was observing the goings-on with a good deal of amusement while his blinded grey-green eye simply stared hollowly at the wall behind his father. His azure hair, inherited from his mother and blond tipped for his own touch fell around his face to accentuate the sunset-red robes he wore loosely on his shoulders.

“Because,” Neiphelm started, shifting his shoulders to ease the stiffness out of the jacket he wore himself before continuing, “You are the eldest son, for one, and you didn’t ask us if you could wear something else. Drey, on the other hand, asked that first thing when we told him.”

“Well, yeah but –“

“Let it go, niisan,” Dreykin injected, smiling at the exasperated look Phaenyx gave his brother, “And just be happy that Dad’s not gonna take that tie outta your pocket money.” Hearing that, Phaenyx immediately fell silent with embarrassment as he shot a guilty glance at the aforementioned tie. Ielarae watched the exchange with a smile adorning her ruby-painted lips, her hands folded in her lap, before looking out the window to see the carriage pull up outside the mansion.

“We’re here,” called the driver as he hopped down to open the door. Neiphelm held out his hand to steady Ielarae as she stepped down, the glittering hem of her ocean-blue dress skimming just above her black, low heeled shoes, before stepping down himself. Standing on the paved ground, he turned around to see Dreykin lightly push Phaenyx outside so he could get down. With a short chorus of “Thanks” and a pet on the Muaka’s muzzle from Dreykin, the carriage was pulled away to park outside the nearby servants’ quarters.

Turning to regard the mansion, Neiphelm and Ielarae began the short walk to the door. Shaking his hair back into its usual semi-messy state, Phaenyx followed with Dreykin to his right so that the half-blind brother didn’t bump into anything. Pausing at the door, Ielarae turned to the two boys and said, “I think there’s a sort of ‘children’s party’ that’s separate from the main party in the back garden. If you feel that we adults are being too boring, please do not leave that party. Okay?”

Phaenyx and Dreykin shot glances at each other, the latter making sure that the raucous plans the former was planning were to be under restraint, to which both nodded in agreement. With that little arrangement decided on, Neiphelm raised his hand and knocked twice with a little force that caused the door to vibrate a bit. After a moment, the door opened to reveal a distinguished elderly butler… with an enormous moustache which apparently conspired to double as his beard.

“Ah, Neiphelm and Ielarae Ahkotsku with their children, yes?” He greeted them in a rather droll voice, his moustache/beard not even twitching. Dreykin shot a look at his elder brother to find Phaenyx’s lips pressed tight, with a muscle jumping round his jaw as he struggled not to chuckle.

“This way, please,” the butler requested, leading them through the mansions interior. After ten minutes of walking by various rooms, statues and paintings (it should be noted that Phaenyx nearly lost his composure on seeing the family’s dog tearing out of the kitchen with a string of sausages trailing from it’s mouth and a chef’s hat on its head with two kitchen staff racing after it) the little group arrived at the ballroom doors.

“Please, enjoy,” the butler stated before opening the doors and standing back to allow the family through.

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Edited by Phoenixian Wraith, Dec 09 2012 - 02:56 AM.

[Phoenixian Wraith]

Chapter Four: Meeting the 'Family' (part 2)

 

"Well,” Phaenyx yawned, “THAT was boring.”

 

Dreykin chuckled as he nodded. The two had managed to reign in their boredom with the party for almost ten minutes before notifying Ielarae of their intention to, as Dreykin put it, survey the children’s party (Or as Phaenyx put it, “See how much more interesting it is than this party.”) and decide whether or not to attend (If not, Phaenyx swore under his breath to “liven this living tomb up a bit”…)

 

The two were currently walking between two hedges making small talk, their destination a marquee that was lit rather brightly.

 

“So – how long you reckon ‘till that woman realizes you put that extra-hot Tabasco sauce in her drink?”

 

An agonized scream rent the air.

 

“I’d say she just found out, niisan.”

 

A high-five and a minute of chortling later, the pair came into sight of the marquee before stopping dead in absolute horror.

 

The outside was a simple white, but the inside of the marquee was different entirely. There was pink inside, all over the place. The streamers, the lanterns, the tablecloth, everything was pink.

 

“… Niisan?”

 

“Yeah, Drey?”

 

“Do you remember what this ‘party’ is meant for?”

 

“… Nope. You?”

 

“Would I ask if I did?”

 

“Point.”

 

Shaking his head vigorously to try and rid himself of the nightmare in front of him, Phaenyx caught sight of a girl laying in the grass a few feet away stargazing. Noting the simple honey-brown dress, he nudged the still shell-shocked Dreykin out of his semi-coma and asked, “Now, why can’t WE get away with that kinda dress?”

 

With a quick toss of his head and a hand rubbing above his left eye, Dreykin turned to see what his brother was talking about, when he froze once again, his eyes widening slightly and his breath actually stopped. Phaenyx blinked a few times, and then snapped his fingers in front of Dreykin’s face. “Oi, otouto, you there? Hey-lo~o?”

 

The girl seemed to notice Dreykin’s stare, because she turned her head and, on spotting the two, flexed her body up before springing onto her feet despite wearing a dress. Acting quickly, Phaenyx smacked a hand over his brothers’ good eye while closing his own before seeing the sand-coloured leggings that were hidden under the dress. Striding over, the girl slapped Dreykin, snapping him out of his trance and knocking him to the ground.

 

Reacting immediately, Phaenyx grabbed the girl by the collar of her dress and drew his fist back in preparation. “Hey! What the heck was that for?!” he demanded angrily, before being answered with a slap.

 

“That,” the girl answered coldly, “was for him staring at me just then while I got up. Yours was for covering one eye.”

 

“No real point covering the other one,” Phaenyx retorted, “’Cos the only thing he can see from there is black.” At that, the girl stiffened in surprise. “You mean…?” she hesitantly asked. A short, aggravated nod from Phaenyx served as her answer before she knocked his arm away and hurriedly knelt down to help Dreykin up.

 

“Omigosh I am SO sorry, I didn’t know!” she hastily apologized as the still-stunned Dreykin staggered up, she bracing him. Dreykin waved hand while mumbling, “S’all good… you didn’t know-” “Is there anything I can do to make it up?” she overrode, concern and guilt radiating from her worse than light from the sun.

 

“Name’d be good,” Phaenyx said, crossing his arms, still annoyed at the girl, “From there it’s up to Drey.”

 

“Amohn ‘Ammo’ Shiroame,” Amohn replied, “3^rd bloodline of Ahkotsku farmers.”

 

“’Ammo?’” asked Phaenyx, an eyebrow raised.

 

“Ahkotsku farmers? Bloodline?” asked Dreykin, only a little wobbly. In response to the two questions, Amohn looked expectantly at them with eyes flicking between them.

 

“Oh, sorry. I’m Dreykin Ahkotsku, this is Phaenyx,” Dreykin quickly interjected. “Which family?” Amohn asked, getting confused looks in reply.

 

“… Ahkotsku, were you not listening? Jeez,” Phaenyx commented, putting a hand to his head to scratch it.

 

Irritated, Amohn opened her mouth to presumably tell them off before a light of recognition sparked in her eyes and instead asked, “Is your mum Ielarae?”

 

The shocked expressions answered better then anything that came out of their mouths – “How did…” “You…” “What?”

 

Swallowing quickly, Phaenyx shoved both hands into his hair and rubbed furiously before asking, “How do you know Mum’s name?!”

 

“She’s my...” Amohn paused to think, “Aunt three families over, I think?”

 

In the ensuing silence, the sound of a children’s nursery rhyme wafted through the air, attracting the attention once more of the two boys to stare at the ‘party’. Amohn, speaking quickly, drew their attention back. “You REALLY don’t want to go in there – I’d just escaped two minutes before we… err, ‘met’…” she stated with a blush at the end, “Um… forgive me over that?” She looked hopefully at Dreykin, who nodded a bit too quickly, then to Phaenyx who eyed her for a moment, then shrugged with a half-smile. Smiling fully, she continued, “The party in there is for Emare Kinsui, the youngest daughter of the Kinsui family who own this place. She’s a cute kid, only 4, but waaay too into the ‘cute’ thing – hence the eye-melting pink in there.

 

“Anyways, ‘Ammo’ is my nickname ‘cause of my tendency to…”

 

“Overreact?” Dreykin offered.

 

“Skip the fuse and chuck the cannon?” deadpanned Phaenyx.

 

“…lose my temper quickly,” finished a blushing Amohn, “As to the bloodline thing… You’ll learn about that soon anyway. All you need to know is that everyone here has Ahkotsku blood in their heart. Though some of it -”

 

“Servant!” A boy’s voice loudly proclaimed, causing them to turn their heads and look at the new arrival that walked into the midst of the three, point a finger at Amohn and state, “I demand you get me one glass of lemonade this instant!”

 

“Who the heck’re you?” growled Dreykin, his eye flashing aggression and shocking Phaenyx. Dreykin never gotten this worked up over anything.

 

“I? I am Tiotae Kinsui, the heir to the Kinsui throne,” droned the blue-eyed boy, looking pompous with bowl-cut black hair, “and you will show respect, peasant.”

 

Phaenyx narrowed his eyes at the brat, his earlier shock at Drey’s behaviour gone and replaced by a will to break Tiotae’s nose. The two shared a glance, both acquiescing to the plan of introducing Tiotae to the Intensive Care Unit of a hospital if he made another insult.

 

“Some of it,” Amohn finished with a cold glare in her light-brown eyes, “pumps through veins of people like this guy.”

 

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Edited by Phoenixian Wraith, Apr 08 2013 - 01:36 AM.

[Phoenixian Wraith]

Chapter Five: Meeting the 'Family' (part 3)

 

“Did you not hear me, servant?” Tiotae demanded of Amohn, “I requested that you get me lemonade. Immediately.”

 

Before Dreykin went in for a swing, Amohn replied. “Learn to recognise family, punk. I’m Ahkotsku descent, just like you.”

 

To say that Tiotae was shocked would be an understatement. However, before he could splutter out a response, the tension-riddled group was interrupted by a flurry of pink that burst into the middle of them and tackle-hugged Amohn to the ground, throwing up a small cloud of dust. The two Ahkotsku boys’ focus on the spoilt brat was broken as they spun round to see a small girl with soft pink hair, wearing a small black kimono with white hems, giggling atop Amohn as she groaned.

 

“Emare… remember… what I said… about… doing… that?” Amohn wheezed, the little girl, obviously Emare Kinsui, hugging her chest.

 

“Nope!” Emare responded happily.

 

‘Well, could you… please let me… sit up…?” Amohn asked, her breath slowly returning.

 

“Ah uh!” agreed the tiny terror. She hopped off Amohn and landed with lightness akin to a petal touching a pond. Turning around, Emare was greeted with the stupefied faces of Dreykin and Phaenyx as behind her Amohn slowly made her way up, prompting her to ask, “Am-oh, who’re they?”

 

“They’re friends… and cousins,” Amohn answered, only panting slightly. Silently, she gestured to Phaenyx and Dreykin to introduce themselves to Emare.

 

“Um… I’m Phaenyx,” the former slowly said, “And I’m Dreykin,” the latter ended.

 

Emare’s light hazel eyes shone with excitement as she exclaimed, “Wow! You two’re like knights!” causing the boys’ eyebrows to rise quizzically and glance at one another. Finally, Emare took note of her older brother. “Tee-Tee, why is your hair silly?” she asked before appearing to ponder something, only to burst into giggles moments later, “I made a rhy~ime, I made a rhy~ime!”

 

“Go away, sister,” snapped Tiotae, “grown-ups are talking.”

 

“Wrong party then, bakayarō,” Phaenyx shot back, getting a face palm from Dreykin at his choice in language, “That party’s inside the house.”

 

“Do not speak unless spoken to, child.”

“How old are you then?”

“I’m eight.”
“Nine, ten in three days. Makes you the child.”

“Humph, that doesn’t matter. I’m richer than you so I can-” Tiotae’s rebuttal was interrupted by Phaenyx and Dreykin throwing their left and right punches, respectively, into his nose. He was airborne for two feet before hitting the ground, comically rolling over and over, bawling. Getting up quickly, he yelled at them as he ran, “Just wait, you poopyheads! I’ll tell Daddy on you and you’ll be in deep trouble.”

 

Phaenyx sighed as the irritating voice disappeared, shaking his hand. “We’re gonna get into some serious Maha-dung, aren’t we?” he lamented as he looked at Dreykin, who agreed silently.

 

“Oh, I dunno…” Amohn said with a sly grin, turning and bending to Emare, “Hey, Emare? Did you see what happened?”

 

“Ah huh!” Emare giggled, the brothers moods becoming gloomy at the punishment that await- “Tee-Tee ran into a tree branch!” She finished before bursting into laughter at the two boys that stood there stunned. Dreykin recovered first and started, “But he said-” “Four to one,” Phaenyx interrupted, blinking as he saw the little plan and gazing at Amohn in amazement.
 

“Huh?”

 

“His word against the four of us,” Amohn explained, “those four being two Ahkotsku boys who are taught honesty, a hard-working girl and a child.” Dreykin’s eyes widened as he too saw the simplicity of the idea. The three of them revelled in the feeling of most likely getting away with it…

 

Until Amohn’s stomach gurgled, breaking the semi-seriousness of the scene and devolving it into giggles.

 

“Well,” Dreykin asked, holding his arms out, “shall we go get some food?”

 

The other three agreed, Amohn being the quickest, and set off. Phaenyx, who somehow ended up carrying Emare (she had run up, jumped and slung her arms over his shoulders, letting her feet dangle), never noticed Dreykin wordlessly offer his hand to Amohn, blushing lightly, nor her take it.

 

As the children walk inside, to endure the dullness and, through the course of the night, become friends, the cloaked figure stares after them, shadowed eyes distant as memories of life wound into, in front and through the scenery before them. Turning to depart into the forest, a glimpse of a crest on the back of the cloak is seen.

 

A bird, wings half folded, rising from black flames.

 

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Edited by Phoenixian Wraith, Apr 08 2013 - 01:37 AM.

[Phoenixian Wraith]

Chapter Six: A Little History.

 

 

“So, Amohn,” Dreykin started, pausing in his choice of whether to get some pork or chicken, “What did you mean by ‘bloodlines’? I mean, I know that’s how to trace family, but you made it sound…”

 

“Royal?” Amohn guessed, both choosing their food and walking to the table at which Phaenyx and Emare currently sat. At Dreykin’s nod, she explained, “Well, I don’t entirely remember the whole story; you’d have to ask the Loremaster -”

 

“The what-now?” interrupted Phaenyx, his forkful of steak hanging halfway between his mouth and the plate piled almost five inches high, looking puzzled at Amohn. Emare took this moment to quickly steal his cheese-drizzled eggs, eat them and pretend nothing happened. "Loremaster, Phaenyx, the Loremaster. Basically, an elderly person who’s main duty is to tell the young their ancestral legacy,” Amohn told him, fighting to hide a smirk as Phaenyx nodded, turned back to his plate, noticed the eggs missing and started looking around with a frown for the perpetrator.

 

“Anyways, the story goes that a long, long time ago a man had four children; three boys and a girl. The first saw the fields around the house and, as they were hungry, proceeded to till and farm them. The second, born a few years after, saw that the family was living in poor conditions and began managing the coin. Their names were Qalin, who eventually started the Three Farm Family, and Hufano, who founded the Kinsui family.”

 

“The ‘Three Farm Family’?” Dreykin asked.

 

“Yeah, the Shiroame, Kokudo and Haiirohi. All three were started within a few years of each other and all have some of Qalin’s blood in them.”

 

“Odd names,” Phaenyx commented before taking going back to nibbling the bone that remained of one of three steaks. Amohn opened her mouth to reply before blinking in confusion. Didn’t he have more food than that? She asked herself, glancing between the buffet table and the scrap littered plate in front of Phaenyx.

 

Dreykin noticed this and, placing a hand over his eyes in exasperation, put the girl at ease. “Don’t worry about it, Amohn. Phaenyx simply enjoys food… to the point of finishing it that fast sometimes.”

 

Amohn blinked twice before following Dreykin’s advice. Clearing her throat, she answered the eldest at the table, “Well, they’re words from the Ancient Languages. Just like Ahkotsku.”

 

Phaenyx raised an eyebrow, keeping an eye on Emare as she ran back to the buffet to get dessert, as he asked, “Really? Huh… go figure. So, what do they all mean?”

 

“I think I can answer that better than my daughter.”

 

The group turned their heads to the voice and saw a woman around Ielarae’s age with braided white hair that fell to her neck and wrapped into a ponytail, hazel eyes and a dark red dress that was similar to Amohn’s in style.

 

“Hey, Mom, this is Dreykin and Phaenyx -” “Ahkotsku,” The woman finished, tousling Amohn’s hair affectionately before continuing, “My name is Me’vahre Shiroame.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Dreykin and Phaenyx said in perfect unison, both giving each other deadpan looks after while Me’vahre chuckled at the sight.

 

“That reminds me so much of the days when Ielarae and myself where out on our quest,” she said, eyes misting over slightly, “We’d rock up to a Battlefield, announce ourselves and we’d both shout that we wanted to be first at the exact same time for about a half hour… after a while the Element-Lords started having Apprentices on standby in case we showed up.”

 

Phaenyx chuckled at the imagery while Dreykin settled for a small smile before asking, “So, going back to what we were talking about…”

 

“Ah, yes,” Me’vahre quickly pulled out of her memories and regarded the four in front of her, Emare having returned with a head-sized mound of strawberry ice cream, before continuing, “Well, Ahkotsku is actually a more, well, Shadian use of the name Ankoku, meaning Darkness. Shiroame, Kokudo and Haiirohi mean Whiterain, Blacksoil and Greyfire, and Kinsui means Goldwater.

 

“However, there are other families that are a part of Qalin’s bloodline. The Three Families are just more directly descendant. In any case, my daughter has yet to finish her brief version of the story.”

 

Amohn jumped a little when she realized it, and sent Phaenyx a reproachful glance that caused him to look deadpanned back. With a short sigh, she went on as though there wasn’t an interruption, “After some time passed, the Man and his two sons became rather wealthy and managed to hire some of the local people to help with farming. Qalin would always be out in the field first and last to leave, while Hufano busied himself with monitoring the coin.”

 

“However, as will always be,” interjected Me’vahre, “such riches brought unwelcome attention to the House. After a particularly brutal threat, the Man bore two more children – twins, a boy and a girl. As time continued, these two trained from the moment they were strong enough, until they become accomplished swordsmen.”

 

“These two were named Kosei and Ushinawa much later, for their true names have been lost to time,” a new, male voice interrupted. The group looked at the latest member, seeing a lithe man with grey hair, a wrinkled brow and focused, yet weary blue eyes. And by his side, with a smug look on his face, was Tiotae.

 

“These are the children, Father,” he began, “These are the two that hit me, and their servant friend.”

 

Me’vahre raised an eyebrow at this and, placing her elbow to the table and her chin to her hand, proceeded to shut the boy up. “My, my, it’s been a while, Tiotae. Stopped wetting the bed yet? Or haven’t you controlled that from when I visited last year?”

 

As Phaenyx, Amohn and Emare burst out laughing and Dreykin chuckled, Tiotae turned bright red before turning to his father, only for him to hold a hand up to prevent the whining.

 

“Still sharp-tongued as ever, Me’vahre,” he stated before turning to the other children, “I am, as you can guess, Tiotae’s father. My name is Caeril Kinsui and I would like to know why my son came screaming to me in the middle of a chat about being hit. Before that, who am I talking to?”

 

“Amohn Shiroame,” she chuckled, wiping tears off her cheeks.

“Phaenyx -” he began, trying desperately to not choke on laughter.

“And Dreykin Ahkotsku, sir,” the other finished.

“Tee-Tee hit a tree!” Emare jumped in, a wide grin on her face.

 

“Emare,” Caeril said as he looked at his daughter, “please do not get involved.”

 

Emare looked at her father and, with a pout, sat back in her chair and played with her ice cream. Caeril gave her head a rub, smiling softly before turning to the two and quirking an eyebrow. “Well?”
 

Phaenyx sighed, sobered and took the hint. “We were talking with Amohn when this bakayarō,” he stuck his thumb at Tiotae, “walked in and told Amohn to get him a drink. After some… small talk, he tried to make himself out to be better.”

 

“So Niisan and I decked him for being pompous,” Dreykin finished quite calmly.

 

Caeril massaged the bridge of his nose, sighed and offhandedly asked, “Tiotae, what have I said about acting that way?”

 

“But, Father, as Kinsui I am better than them,” the boy objected before being silenced by a look from his father.

 

“Actually,” Me’vahre interjected, “and I don’t want this getting into your heads, you two,” glancing at the Ahkotsku boys, who nodded, “as Ahkotsku’s, they are better than you, kiddo.”

 

The three fell into silence at this, one of them uncharacteristically so. It didn’t last long.

 

“Well then,” Tiotae said, his chest heaving dramatically (and rather comically), “I will change that.” Turning to Phaenyx, he grabbed a napkin off the table and whipped it against the others face. “I, Tiotae Kinsui, challenge you to a duel. The loser admits the victor is better.”

 

As everyone else at the table stared at Tiotae in surprise, Phaenyx looked at him blankly. This feeling, this… excitement in my chest… what is it? he asked himself.

 

In the middle of the forest, the cloaked figure pauses mid-stride as something catches their attention. Turning back the way they came and regarding it momentarily, a black flame erupts around them, obscuring everything. A trail of flame suddenly arcs out of the small inferno and into the night sky.

 

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Edited by Phoenixian Wraith, Apr 21 2013 - 10:41 PM.