GuNNhead

Night falls across the battlefield. Hundreds of soldiers stand poised. The moonlight floods the scene as the sunlight dies out, billowing out their individual shadows into a conglomeration of continual darkness. Once the sun has gone, they begin forward, their armor, swords and shields gently clanging; lit in pieces by the moonshine. In the distance ahead of them, there is a beacon of light, of death.

On the other side of the field, the Lava-Steel of the FlameSword glows and burns the night air. The flames that lick the hands of its owner do not burn him, for he is Tarnaal. His muscles bulge as he lifts the sword, arms glinting with slight perspiration. His bare chest shines with the light of the FlameSword as a drop of sweat beads down in between his pecs and down his abs, down to his animal skin loin cloth. He breathes in deeply, heavily, taking in all of his surroundings.

The army is approaching. Tarnaal lifts the FlameSword over his head, and unleashes a horrifically fierce war cry. While only a yell of valor, it exudes manliness, injects the essence of man forcefully into the air. He runs toward them. A few of the soldiers run in the opposite way at the sight of this one man, screaming and brandishing a sword above his head. Some have heard the legends, some realize the source of their fright in their own imaginations. The rest regain their confidence in numbers, and pick up speed towards this sole warrior, this one man.

The opposing forces meet with screams of burning pain as the FlameSword scorches the flesh of any who it touches, in addition to cutting through the limbs. Arms and blood fly past Tarnaal. He makes his way deeper into the crowd, never stopping his assault. The battle lasts throughout the night.

As the morning sun begins to rise, the chill of the night remains. Tarnaal is the only figure that remains standing. He breathes out the cool night air into the morning, the moisture-laden air from his lungs chills into a mist. Blood is dripping off every inch of his body; his messy hair, caked and dirty. The FlameSword in his hands throbs and pulsates with energy, fed into the lava-steel. He, in his warrior mind remains confident. He did not always have the FlameSword, and used to engage in battles of this nature. Nothing has changed, only the amount of pain he inflicts towards those he cuts in twain. At the first sign of the sun appearing over the hills, it strikes his eyes, he spits upon the bodies of the dead soldiers.

He is loved, he is a friend, just not here.

In the world of Wealdland, there exists much more than those who battle only for the power spoken of in the Legends of the Primal Energy. There are people who have magicks outside of that, kingdoms and wars, untouched by the hero Firedrake, or his vengeful brother Icemarrow. The battles between the Goddess and Ahriman are still but distant and budding tales here, in the warring kingdoms of Darpol and Raugai.

This battle is not over land, but over a woman; a Princess to be exact. Though, this princess was soon to be Queen, and was to unite these two Kingdoms, but her husband to be, the great warrior Thuramen was murdered in his sleep the night before the wedding. None knows by whom, the only witness being the Princess’s cat. With no suitor able to bring a united decision to fruition, be determined as an acceptable alternative to the deceased Thuramen, a battle was to be waged.

Days have now past. Dust and sand fills the battlefield in gusts of winds. The approaching armies come nearer to their mutual demise at each others swords. Each side believes they are in the right, and will fight to their death to prove such a thing. None are more patriotic than these men, who believe in their Kingdom’s power and entitlement over all others.

Suddenly, a beam of light lands in the center of the battleground, the armies stop fighting. The Princess steps out of the bean glowing in a radiant light as a simultaneously occurring downpour soaks the opposing armies. The Princess is weeping.
“I’ve lost my cat. He’s nowhere to be found,” she chokes on her teary words, “he was the only one to comfort me in the time of Thuramen’s passing, instead of bickering over who would take his place. I loved him! And now Malek is lost! You will all find him or I will surely die of heart loss!”

The cat really did mean a lot to the girl, he was the sign of her and Thuramen’s bond between each other. The armies stunned by the Princess’ outburst of magicks beyond her age, took to looking for Malek. The Princess’ cat, which they had reason to worry, that may have been a reincarnation of the prince, or some fort of evil familiar, a bad omen.

When they found the cat, it was in the closing act of killing the castle church’s priest. They ran to stop it, but it was far too late. It had escaped into the night.

A note was left, from Thuramen, saying that his spirit was taken from his body and placed into the cat by an evil sorcerer, the priest, who would seek to claim the kingdom as his own after the battle sorted out the strongest warriors among them for his own armies. Also lost with the sorcerer’s life, however, was Thuramen’s body: the priest had intended to it make his own; both it and the old man’s bodies burned to ash in a magical fire.
And so, Thuramen, forever cursed to be trapped in that, chubby, rolly cat’s body, could no longer bear to be around the life he once knew. He resigned himself to wander to lands for eternity, knowing it would be for the betterment of all Kingdoms to believe that he had died.

Nearing completion of his training, Lunos was greeted by the wizard.

“Be the King of Night, the King of Wealdland with just one potion that I have created that gives men powers, take just one pilule: Your might will be unlimited tonight!”

Sensing hesitation in Lunos, the wizard continued:

“You can become more than a mere mortal like your brother.”

“My brother? I never told you…”

“Ah, but you did not have to, I always knew, the Goddess has chosen him as the hero of Wealdland, and he abandoned you, that is why he has never come in search of you. He has discarded you, after mocking you for your entire life, creating lies about you so that no child would go near you. Now you can have the power to destroy him, as well as the Goddess who tempted him, making a fool of you, a nothing: the mere brother of a hero, cast by the wayside. Take this, and nothing will come between you and your success, give your action this strength, so that all and sundry will bend their knees to your might.”

Lunos thought only of destroying his brother as he took the pilule. Instantly, he fell to the ground, arctic cold penetrated his soul, daggers of ice overspread his pupils, and his exhalations became naught but a frigid fog.

“What has happened to me?” Lunos asked in a now distant and monotonous voice, as if heard from the depths of an ice cavern.

“You have attained an unleashed power that has always resided in you from birth, Lunos Firedrake.”

“Firedrake… I despise that name.”

“Ah, yes, the name of your brother, who has been battling for years now, defeating the armies of Ahriman time and time again. The noble Rapacious Ahriman, who merely seeks to attain the Primal Energy to free Wealdland from the Goddess”, the wizard said, continuing, “I shall bestow upon you a new name, since it is I who awakened this power deep within your being. For now the ground behind you withers and dies with a corrosive frost emanating from your bones, you shall forevermore be known as Lunos Icemarrow.”

“Yes, I will take this name, for that is now the name of the caustic demon that shall hold Daystar Firedrake’s heart, that which beat next to mine for so long, in my hands, and purge the burning valor, replacing it only with the blackest of ice.”

Daystar Firedrake, the hero of Wealdland, was not born alone. Beside his heart that burned so bright with heroism, there also beat a heart filled with atrocity; this heart belonged to his brother, Lunos. Their childhood was one of commonplace occurrences, with neither having the knowledge of life to follow. Though, there are those who could see the warmth and forthcoming greatness in Daystar. Their birth parents died before either could remember, and the village took unto them as their own, raising them with solid moral values, teaching them the way of Wealdland. None in the land could figure out how the first born, Daystar, was able to achieve a great many friends, while Lunos spent much of his time alone, as for much of their youth, they acted the same. If asked, the children would often say that the mere presence of Lunos would send shivers up their spines and cause horripilation. If not for Daystar always wanting to recreate alongside him, challenging him in battles of the sword, none of the children would have gone near Lunos. Over time, Lunos grew distant from his brother, loathing him for his superior skill in combat and jovial nature, preferring his own tenebrous demeanour.

In their teenage years, Lunos left the village and his brother, alone, seeking his own path in life, and no longer wanting to be associated with Daystar Firedrake. Deep in the woods of Wealdland, he discovered the abode of an old wizard. This wizard offered great power to the young Lunos Firedrake.
“What I can offer you is the best weapon of men in battles for stability and strength, you will understand all the advantages this potion gives to a man after just one try, I assure you, young Lunos”, said the wizard.
Lunos, filled with the avarice of desire for great power, he partook the entirety of the potion without hesitation. Immediately, he felt a chill that he had not felt in all his life, constricting his mind, sending him too his knees.
“Do not worry, young Lunos, that which you feel is simply brain freeze, that potion used water from my well, and deep underground, there is ice. Stop doubting in your inner being, and start the age of full self-confidence. I will train you, and you will gain the power you so desire.”
Lunos understood the advantages of the potion, and agreed to the wizard’s training.

Synchronously, in the village, the Goddess appeared, and proclaimed Daystar Firedrake as the warrior to save Wealdland and protect the Primal Energy from all those who would seek to use it towards their own ends. She then took the young hero to train him for his destiny despite his protests that he must set out to find his brother, who had gone missing recently.

Years passed, and the brothers trained separately; Lunos, with the wizard and his magic, and Daystar with the Goddess. Both became master swordsman, able to defeat entire armies. Their strength was immeasurable, as was their skill in many aspects of life. However, while Daystar enjoyed the company of others, spending much of his spare time in revelry with the battalion who he trained alongside, Lunos studied magics alone, with the wizard leaving for long periods of time to tend to his own affairs.

“Our Goddess was fired,” spoke Remmah Pallow, local blacksmith, “there is nothing more we can do, I will fight beside you no longer, Daystar.”

“Aye, tis no use, we have been defeated, and with Ahriman knowing the location of the Primal Energy, the best we can do is enjoy our final moments,” agreed Elm Stellmoor. The few remaining surviving party members conceded, leaving Daystar Firedrake the only one still willing to pursue Ahriman deep within the densest forests of Wealdland to the location of the Primal Energy. Perhaps they were correct, Ahriman had suddenly, mysteriously attained great power, destroying the armies of Wealdland as well as vanquishing their Goddess who had been watching over and ensuring balance was maintained over the lands.

“I cannot believe that I have ever fought beside you chicken hearted men! No matter, I will head to the Primal Energy forsaken, and shall defeat Ahriman as well as his newfound power unassisted. What one army could not do, I will accomplish,” stated Daystar

“With Ahriman as strong as he has clearly shown here today, we have come to accept our fates, as one man, you cannot change your soft destiny, do not perish in vain, alone in the forest against that vile magus, remain here and celebrate our life and past battles won against him,” Remmah beseeched.

“That is not possible for me, Remmah, I have sworn to protect Wealdland, no matter the cost, and my fight shall never end until my life does likewise. My destiny is one that is iron enough to pierce the ceiling of the heavens, farewell.” With that, Daystar Firedrake set off towards the secluded resting place of the all powerful Primal Energy.

Daystar traveled upon the heels of Ahriman, who tore his way through the forests towards his goal, his time now almost at hand. A clear path was razed for Daystar, though, to not bring danger or misfortune upon himself, followed the path that he had come to master in his years of training. Soon, he reached the hidden clearance upon which the Primal Energy stood, surrounded by a vast expanse. It was then that he saw the wretched Rapacious Ahriman return to visibility and lift the Primal Energy from its pedestal.

“Return the Primal Energy now!” Daystar, the brave hero sworn to protect Wealdland, demanded, drawing his sword.

“It is no use, Daystar Firedrake, for I, Rapacious Ahriman, have finally succeeded in obtaining the Primal Energy that I have desired for eons! Nothing can stop me as I conquer all of Wealdland and make it my own!” Ahriman cackled from across the void. Daystar had been dreading this day for many years now, stopping Ahriman unceasingly, but he had finally failed, and the world of Wealdland would be no more.

“No, Ahriman, for you will find the Primal Energy has no use to you as I plunge my sword deep into your black heart!”

“Hahaha, fool! You have been my greatest adversary for far too long, the pleasure I will take in destroying you will be beyond that which I took from your Goddess!”

Daystar leapt across the chasm towards Ahriman, but it was no use, for the sorcerer suspended Daystar over the abyss with his magics, and as he held Daystar helpless, he crushed the air out of the hero’s lungs and the life from his body. Once the fight had finally left the hero, Ahriman released his mystical hold and Daystar Firedrake’s body fell deep into the dark abyss.