The Stormsender's Daughter| Prologue
Prologue| Chapter I
@ravagekamisama @aquathemermaidstripper @digitalkanvas @prettyprompto @insomniasix
The sun set awakened my slumber for the night holds the key. The key to quiet. We never realize the beauty of nature until it’s all that surrounds us, or until its gone. Willownoire. The forest of old. Beckoned the moonlight as it shown over the trees illuminating the veins in its bark, the roots at its base, the soil pulsating under my feet at every step. The flower petals glistened like a blue fire within. The subtle breeze blowing its crystal like pollen past your nose. Your eyes could follow the crystal shards into the sky and you would stop at the coeurl curled up on top of a large branch cleaning its paw. Beautiful creatures. So delicate and poised, yet electrifyingly dangerous. Still peaceful in the right setting. As were the other creatures that roamed freely and peacefully among the forest, among the people who reside within these trees. Hidden from the metallic civilizations that lie beyond the dirt and grass. Everyone….everything had a soul here. Peace. Love. Tranquility. We do not fret to misfortune and we do not fear the storm…for I am it’s sender and this was my kingdom. Welcome the downpour as it blessed my beloved and I with a humble gift, a child of royalty, beauty, and power. Asteria Zephyr; the Pythoness. She grew alongside the behemoths, brash and strong, yet elegant and beautiful. Her silver hair danced through the wind. Summoner of storms, telepathically bound to the elements. Seeing and hearing all. Adapted to all aspects of life. Knowing peace. The Astrals, as I, were not always the Gods among the elements, but the keepers of the peace. The deliverance from evil. A brotherhood of none other. Titan, Shiva, Leviathan, Bahamut, beside me to marvel at her glory in our conquest for peace. Perfection. Beloved by all. As well as those who could end her with a mere flame of a kiss. A man, so unruly yet charming, witnessed the beauty from afar. Unraveled by her angelic form, the rage of the storm surging through her veins, the burning passion brewing in his chest. In his eyes. I could sense it. He would bring destruction of everything I loved. He wooed the innocent fawn with his treacherous gaze to which I ceased without a strap of hesitation. The glare he returned to me chilled my bones to the core, but I firmly stood. Do not fret, they all said, she is a goddess among us. They judged my worry and my fear and advised I ceased for I am the storm. I am not to know fear. But I knew what remained of my heart would soon cease to exist. The man, so cunning with his ways, slowly convinced Asteria of my foolishness. That they were destined to love for eternity. That their souls were to be forever bound and to blossom. With this, the man took my beloved Asteria under the stars, illuminated by the moon. I sought to end this, but my dear Asteria would not see harm come to her beloved. She beseeched I end my worrisome ways and allow her to be free to love and know peace with the man. Alas, I sided against it much to her dismay. My beloved ashamed of my decision to break our daughter’s heart. I knew no good was to come of this man, but the thought of losing Asteria was more than my old bones could bare. I ceased my ambitions on the sole condition that he would never be given my blessing to marry my beloved child. Although her glee cooled my nerves, I felt the devil’s flame brewing beneath my feet. The man was furious, burning in anger. He loved the Pythoness and wanted nothing more in this world than to make her his own. It was his mission. His goal and he was to achieve it by any means he saw fit. The man approached my throne asking once more for Asteria’s hand in marriage, only for me to refuse. He asked once and only once before he swiftly exited and began to lay waist to my forest, to the people residing within it, with ravaging flames. The crystals were replaced with embers and floated through the blackened wind. He asked once more for Asteria’s hand. I refused. Before my eyes, my beloved was slain by a swift slice to her throat. She fell dead into my arms as I knelt cradling her corpse. The man approached and asked once more. I refused yet again. The man lunged toward my body to strike his final blow before as I hurled a bolt of lightning toward him. I was prepared to die as long as my beloved daughter would never have to live under his scourge. Just as he closed in, my dearest Asteria intercepted the blade of her beloved. No longer allowing him to lay waist to her home. Betrayed and heartbroken, the man hurled his sword into Asteria’s heart. Her blood seeped into the dirt below mixed with her salted tears as the pain seared through her fragile body. Placing her hands upon the blade, the raging flames scorched her pure essence. Her hands quivered and turned to black as the man’s vengeful daemonic essence seeped through her veins up her arms. Her legs were limp as her body chilled welcoming her death. Her weak state allowed his essence to engulf her legs. Accepting her fate, she raised her head to the man before her body began to illuminate a radiant blue from the moonlight’s gentle touch. He stared on in anger and impaled her once more. She was dying, but she still breathed, still had power. “I will not stop you…but you shall never claim me as your prize”. At her final words, the man withdrew his sword from his lover’s body, all evidence of life escaped her as her body fell to the dirt in a pile of ash. The man looked upon me, such fury emitting from his eyes. She was dead, but not gone. Asteria’s final wish, her final spell, to grant her spirit back to my being to one day deem worthy a new prodigy. A new Pythoness. The man reverted himself to a calmed tone. Grazed his blade against his palm sweating to me, an oath in blood. “Ramuh, King of Willownoire….I pledge, whenever you deem a putrid soul a worthy vessel…I will be there…somehow…someway..I will be there…and when the power of the Pythoness is in my hands….you will remember this name”. Ifrit. It was a name that was scarred into my mind. Branded in my memory for eternity, but I knew no fear. For I…am the storm.
Centuries passed. Willownoire prospered. Kings, queens. The forests grew. I ascended as well as my brethren. Ifrit was a mere memory. Erased from the prophecy. Peace was at its peak…or so I thought. War erupted between the kingdom of Niflheim and Lucis. The weakened forces of Willownoire were soon taken by the imperial army. Willownoire became an outcasted nation. Hidden within the mist and trees. Marooned. Forbidden. Forgotten. Then finally, light shown upon a bright December morning. The kingdom welcomed the tiny screams of a newborn baby. A girl. A princess. Fingertips and toes pitch black and silver hair. Merely days after her birth, word of the mysterious princess flooded throughout Eos. There was finally hope of Willownoire emerging from the shadows yet again. Alas, that hope was lost as word of the princess welcomes a maroon haired man to the forest gates. His grin appeared as bloodthirsty fangs in search for its next meal. His amber eyes displayed a forbidden flame. A man of no consequence. He peered to the newborn babe who had just awoken from her slumber to see his mischievous grin. “why…I almost did not believe it. The Pythoness…as she lives and breathes….a pleasure to meet you at last, your highness”. He bowed at her presence removing his hat in a seemingly heartfelt gesture. Though the man was gentlemanly, he was sure to reaffirm his grip on the king’s throat by demanding, as gratitude for allowing their once prosperous kingdom to live in peace, they allow him to escort the princess to Niflheim to keep as his betrothed until she was old enough to marry reassuring them they would see her again. Not willing to sacrifice the kingdom for the love of their child, they reluctantly comply. The man whisked the princess away from her family falsely leaving the sense of hope in their hearts. Hope that the storm would pass. Little did they know, the storm took the only true hope they had away and that there would only be death and destruction in its wake.
