The Plague of Lumeaux

4 posts
Random avatar
Gender Female
Points 89563
Reviews 672
Image

A mutant threat has awoken in the Northern Territories of the Nameless World. A source of pure death that threatens all therein, tribes small and massive alike.

Two in particular are already responding: Sybilius, kingdom of the Aubade Sylphs, and the Zyrean Demons.

The queen of Sybilius, Corelia Erxina, is a goddess-like figure. Her kingdom is the largest and most advanced in the mainland, despite the disadvantaged mortal race that calls it home, and any move they make—for better or worse—is bound to have a ripple effect across the entire continent. The Zyrean Demons, seven survivors of a fallen kingdom, are led by the legendary rival of Corelia, Master Leiytning. He surely won't take kindly to Sybilius's intervention here, and though less than a fraction of Sybilius's population, people fear these demons.

You hail from a small, uninvolved tribe. Your people, like the majority of this mainland, is too steeped in ages of fear, superstition, and bloody memories to aid either side. But you refuse to let the danger come to you. Your tribemates may think you're crazy. Many would say it's helpless. But you want to do something to help, even if it means setting out on your own.

Even though you're all aiming for the same target, it won't be long before you're forced to choose a side to fight with, if only for the sake of self-preservation. Will you place your bets on the Aubades or the Zyreans, for being able to overcome this greater evil?

With obstacles at every turn, there’s bound to be bloodshed, and your tribe may not even take you back. But thousands of lives are on the line, as well as the stability of thousands more. Anything dent you can make will be worth it.


Image

Spoiler
Image
**ngl, the map is sparsely detailed because I've never made one for the Northern Territories, but it still has the general shape, and critical areas are marked.

The Nameless World is utter chaos, especially on this continent. I mean, nobody even agrees on what to call the world, much less could they agree on most other things...

Magic is everywhere—its raw form saturates the earth like radiation, and it can manifest in plants, water, even strange weather phenomena, but it predominately concentrates in crystals. This magic can be capable of producing light, heat, healing properties, and wards. Some can transmit audible messages between other stones of its type, many are used for imbuing certain affinities in enchanting, some can even act as energy sources.

This fusion of magic and nature, in the cycle of evolution, creates a lot of fascinating lifeforms. And when you add a third force, the influence of a god or other divine entity, that's how you get new tribes. However, sometimes the process gets skewed and fails.

Mutants are made instead.

Gods forge their people and imbue them with their very essence, creating a cycle of symbiotic reliance. However, if a people abandon their faith, the divine essence that gave them life will darken into something else, turning them into monsters and corrupting their god. Likewise, it happens the other way around. The god can abandon its people, revoke its essence, thus corrupting itself and triggering the same effect.

This seems to be the essence of the new catastrophe sweeping the Northern Territories now, twisting large swaths of land in the south, while fleets of terrible, strong mutants run rampant.


Image

Spoiler
There are many tribes within the Northern Territories, but for the sake of staying organized, these are the tribes that we'll be using, from which your character can come.

I will also note, some tribes' systems are more fleshed-out than others. If you feel the need to tweak things or fill in blanks anywhere, by all means, please do! I do not expect anyone to be 100% faithful to existing TFR lore—I don't even expect any of you to memorize this information, it's purely for reference.


Ashen Sylphs:

Image

Traits: Ashens, like other sylphs, are mortals. Common traits for them are golden skin tones, long pointed ears, and warm shades of hair and eye color.

Territory: The Ashen Sylphs live in a unique spot in the Northern Territories, where the desert, the coast, and a large stone plane meet. The territory is called Moerutsuki. It’s very rocky, and weather is usually cold and dry. The architecture, names, and general culture are inspired by old Japanese villages. Fire is likewise an integral part of the village aesthetics, and is a common element in festivals and decorations.

Leadership: Ashens are led by a King and Queen, with a number of Lords and Ladies who act as a council.

Magic: As mortals, Ashens are not magical. They are forced to rely on crystals and other sources of natural magic, and they tend to stick to enchantments rather than direct spells (e.g, enchanting a sword to be forever sharp, rather than casting fireballs) because these get more bang for buck. Between the strenuous supplies and skill involved, enchanted items are often reserved for the elite.

Religion: Ashens aren’t required to be very religious since they’re mortals, and they're typically not. However, they are largely spiritual, with respect for the spirit realms and their own extensive legends and mythologies.

Ritin:

Image

Traits: Ritin are a one-off tribe, and nobody really knows how to classify them (even though they're magic-less with average lifespans). Traits for Ritin include eye colors reminiscent of different birds, a ring of feathers around the neck and ankles, and long tail feathers (colors are usually in hues of brown or gray, but there are rarities like black, cardinal-red, or jay-blue). Males commonly have a crest of feathers on the forehead. And of course, Ritin have an extra joint on their wrists that—along with large primary feathers—turn their arms into wings.

Territory: Ritin live atop a mountain with a small city, both of which are called Vädha. The area isn’t particularly cold or hot, but wind is strong and frequent. The city is spread across the split peaks of the mountain summit, and it’s very rustic. Buildings have carved wood architecture, and there are many wooden bridges, walkways, and landing platforms all around. The culture is humble, though wary of outsiders.

Leadership: The Ritin are led by a Chieftain, Taakär. His wife is the shaman, and he has a couple of heirs. Though they are the sole leaders, they behave gracious, knowing they could be ousted by the will of their goddess.

Magic: Ritin have no magic, only their natural gift; their wings, and the incredible mobility they bring. Their lightweight anatomy makes them a bit fragile, but it also makes them even more swift and agile fliers.

Religion: Their god is Shittorah, a glorious winged man. The Ritin are devout and praise him often, as well as the open skies themselves. Common symbols/omens for Shittorah are golden feathers and crimson cranes.

Leo Ghouls:

Image

Traits: At their core, ghouls look like humans, with long lifespans up to 180-250. Common traits for Leo Ghouls include feline eyes, whiskers, ears, claws, and tails. Sometimes these traits resemble wild cats, but traits reminiscent of the domestic species are the most common nowadays.

Territory: Leo territory, called Síloch (pronounced shee-lukh), is located within a vast evergreen woodland, and the architecture and art are inspired by old Celtic nations (particularly Irish). Themes of nature are prominent in the art and architecture. The culture is rather lively. Wary of outsiders, skeptical of change, but none too hostile. They are one of the only tribes to have been allied with the Zyreans (although said allyship was mostly in the past), so sentiments toward demons are less hostile than in other regions.

Leadership: Ghouls are led predominately by their High Cléirech/High Cleric, with a chosen Rotháite/leader to handle the bulk of common matters. A few base-level Cléirechs and Aires act as local leaders and a medium between civilians and high leadership.

Magic: Ghouls bear some magic capability, but it is not strong. It's a gray power that can be used to activate common sources of magic, and some Leos can channel it to shapeshift into cats. They also have a unique physical trait—as long they maintain their diet of raw (animal) flesh, their bodies will have fast healing/regeneration.

Religion: Their goddess is Niamhan (nee-mahn). She is said to take on many forms, but in art and iconography, she is mostly represented by a white lion wearing an emerald circlet. Most ghouls love their goddess and are devout to her.

Anima Demons:

Image

Traits: Common traits for Animas include lighter or darker spots across their skin. They likewise have eyes with slitted pupils (any color), sharp teeth, retractable claws, a long tail with a patch of fur at the end, feet shaped like talons, and animalian ears with patches of fur at their tips. It's also worth noting that demonic anatomy is different internally, with extra bones and lacking most mortal organs (this means eating and drinking is only for enjoyment or practical reasons, and their primary weak spot is the spine).

Territory: Anima Demons are nature-lovers with a deep respect for beasts, with several sanctuaries protecting rare species. Their territory, Fortuna Donum, lies in a dense patch of woodland, connecting to a humble lake and a portion of stone plain. The architecture features the dramatic Gothic styles associated with demonic tribes, but with rustic elements too—wood, stacked stone, ivy, etcetera. The culture is more upbeat and open-minded than most, but they are still highly aware of outsiders. There is an unspoken demonic "pact" that keeps sentiments from turning too hostile toward Zyreans, but sentiments toward Aubades are bitter and aggressive.

Leadership: Their leader is Master Kiraga. There is a spirit-walker (shaman) that enforces divine law, and the master's chosen beta acts as heir and third-in-command. A few lords, dukes, etcetera are elected by demons to help vote on things.

Magic: Animas are the only demonic tribe that don't use black magic. Rather, their magic deals solely in shapeshifting. Animas are able to shift into their spirit animal by nature, then any animal they have managed to form a bond with.

Religion: Animas are largely religious, and it's far from uncommon for citizens to pay homage to their god. The Anima god is only known as the Radiant Beast, a large wolf with pale gold fur, spiraling golden horns, and three tails.

Frost Elves:

Image

Traits: Frost Elves are an ancient race, with extensive lifespans up to 700-750. Common traits include very fair/cool skin tones with frost-like texturing along the arms and legs, pointed ears, and a limitless array of hair and eye colors—the latter typically being a very vibrant hue.

Territory: Frost Elves inhabit a small kingdom called Chonoît, and primarily covers a mountain known as Crête Givrée or "Frosted Ridge". Architecture and art is inspired by classical France, but with a whimsy and natural twist, like delicate leaves of frost along railings, or teardrop-shaped crystals embedded in frames. The culture is introverted, prizes art and order, and is very nervous/critical with outsiders.

Leadership: Frost Elves are led by their king, Ghylmere, with his queen and few adult children. Among the line of command are also the Marquises and the Comtes—those who work for the king and run things in specific factions of the territory.

Magic: Elves are known for being some of the best white mages, and have their own dedicated branch on the white magic tree. And of course, such magic is rarely used offensively, except perhaps in the presence of dark spirits and other evil entites. It has properties including curing, healing, warding, sealing, etcetera.

Religion: Elves are devout to their goddess, La Dame Édelie—depicted as a beautiful woman with flowing locks and winter robes, and a crown of snowdrops. She is symbolized by the tribe's sacred crystal snowdrops, and it's common to pray to her, even giving a quiet thanks after using magic.

Storm Gargoyles:

Image

Traits: Gargoyles are have a lifespan between 180-220 (sadly, most die early). Common traits for Storm Gargoyles include great height (6’0 to 9’0), and large dragon-like wings fused to their backs. They have scaly, monochromatic skin ranging from dust-gray to charcoal hues. They have thick curved claws and talons, long tails, enlarged canines, flattened serpent-like noses, and eyes with horizontal-set pupils like a goat (colors come in the standard range, plus silver, amber, or yellow).

Territory: Their territory is limited to a village built along a tall mountain, Kgavuhn-Sal. It seems like there is a constant storm here, due to the presence of a storm-eye, a concentration of raw magic that attracts clouds and electricity. The village itself is poor and run-down, save for the intricately-designed stone manor carved out of the peak. The culture is fearful of outsiders, which can often manifest as aggression.

Leadership: Storm Gargoyles are led by a Chieftain, Xetokh in this case, who is the sole leader. Outside of Xetokh's small network of designated nobles, there is no challenge to his authority, and he is unafraid to abuse it.

Magic: Storm Gargoyles are not magical. Their strength is in physical capability. They have near-immunuty to electricity and stormy conditions, with decent resilience for fire and heat. Their large size/build makes them much stronger than average, and though that weight does hinder flying capability, they are great gliders. The hooks on their wings can also help with climbing, even wet or rocky surfaces.

Religion: Through a combination of respect and fear, Storm Gargoyles love their god, Averah Xenah, who is depicted as a very powerful quad-winged gargoyle that wields lightning. Sadly, free worship was something Xetokh's predecessors took from the town early on, and Averah is more of an underground, forgotten icon now.

Sky Nymphs:

Image

Traits: Sky Nymphs have a roughly 400-500 year lifespan. Common traits include blue-tinted skin, any hue eyes with star-shaped pupils, fluffy hair textures, feathery wing-shaped ears, and long strings (like catfish whiskers) from the wrists and ankles resembling clouds.

Territory: It’s called Xasteriá, and can be found across a couple of tall isles just off the north coast. Art and architecture are inspired by Greek styles, with more whimsical detailing, and themes of spirals and/or birds. Technology is still in its early civilization phase, but magic has allowed for some shortcuts here and there, and they are especially interested in finding methods to glide/fly. The culture is peaceful, introverted, and observant of nature.

Leadership: Nymphs are led by a small council of roughly five, from the tribe’s Noble families. They are fair enough. The tribe's main issue is Sybilian control; between its proximity with Sybilius, it’s not uncommon for its leadership to influence tribe matters. This is a controversial issue among any tribe close to Sybilius; some welcome the help of the prosperous kingdom, whereas others shun its meddling.

Magic: Nymphs are black mages, deriving power from the elemental branch. The predominant elements are wind, electricity, or water, but there are rumors of other elements appearing due to hybridism (note: hybridism is rare and highly stigmatized across most tribes).

Religion: Their god is a mysterious deity known as Helia. As well as having a nymph form (both male and female), it is said to take many skyborne forms, from a white dove to a great dragon.


Image

Spoiler
A note for character creation: there will be a LOT of writing from individual characters' perspectives in this RP! Thus, if you would like to make a second character to accompany your main on their quest, to generate more dialogue and maybe help progress an arc, I am cool with that! You don't have to worry about doing separate intro posts or anything, but you will have to account for two characters during fights, interactions, etc. If you think you can handle that, go for it!


Code: Select all
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Age[/b]:
[b]Race:[/b]

[b]Skills and Affinities[/b]: (be sure to include their magic capability, if applicable!)
[b]Weapons and/or Equipment:[/b] [i](you can add to this later if you want as well!)[/i]

[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Backstory:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]

[i]Do you understand that "The Forsaken Race" is a pre-existing universe, and that Raven promises to not use any of your characters/creations in future TFR projects unless given clear and explicit permission?:[/i]


Image
Last edited by Ravena on Sat Jul 19, 2025 10:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.
(Formerly RavenAkuma)

~ "Believe only half of what you see, and nothing that you hear." ~

- Edgar Allan Poe




Random avatar
Gender Female
Points 89563
Reviews 672
Image
Written by RavenAkuma


Warning: mild gore and implied blood

The clash of pristine blades was practically white noise to Aubade soldiers by now.

They were more than ready to take on any threat. If not due to their collective years of experience, fighting everything from pesky beasts to legendary demon foes, then due to their well-known status in the Northern Territories. What did they have to fear, as the largest, most advanced kingdom? It was others who had to fear them.

The latest fleet of soldiers, clad in their shining silver armor, ran into the fight with that very confidence. And this time, it was an utter monstrisity that wound up skewered by their blades.

Hideous creatures that had rampaged across a small border village, few in number yet extremely destructive. They ranged from six to twelve feet, composed of contorted, bulbous, misshapen meat. It was barely held together by husks of slimy gray skin, like a waterlogged corpse. Their limbs ranged from long and spindly, to short and club-like. Some had enough to resemble large spiders, others forced to half-slither like serpents. Crooked jaws, missing or bulging eyes, and all manner of teeth—some growing even where there was no mouth—varied across them all.

As they ravaged the now-evacuated village, the destruction was bad, but it wasn't the buildings they cared about. No, they were hunting for life.

Eventually, the fight had boiled down to six creatures, the largest acting as some sort of alpha. The soldiers ambushed them within a pasture, while they were engorging on the flesh of fallen cattle. Behind them, smoke trailed from the fires set by fallen torches in the village, yet it did nothing to counter the reek of pestilence and death in the air.

One soldier, overwhelmed by the horror, tried to flee back toward that village.

'SNAP!'

There was no time to react. A slime-covered, grayish-black tendril lashed out like a whip, coiling around his throat. Dripping with saliva, puss, and greenish pestilence, the tendril choked him, silencing the man before yanking him into the air.

The tendril—a tongue—sank back into the sludge-laden throat of another beast, perched upon a tack shed. Drawing the poor soldiers into its maw, the jaws clamped shut with enough force to dent his armor—and more than enough force to impale his flesh, breaking any bone in the way. Gorging itself on whatever it could swallow, the beast spat out the man's red-splattered armor, the metal corroded in large swaths from its pestilent nature.

As a group of soldiers quivered at the sight, one stepped up, gripping his blade. "Pull yourselves together! We must protect the living, and avenge the fallen! At arms!"

Psyching them up, they charged back into the fight.

As they doubled down, the clash was a cacophony of hellish proportions. The creatures didn't bleed normal crimson, but a vile tar-like slag. A substance that corroded metal and grass on contact. Two beasts had fallen already, but the Aubades were in miserable condition. Battered, burned, and lashed by all manner of the monsters' weapons.

The worst part of this fight was the reaction the beasts had to damage. Every time a blade pierced their flesh, the resulting wound would gush and pulse, until black tentacles or limbs with archnid-type exoskeletons burst out to add to the amalgamation.

Amid the fray, as another monster pinned a soldier beneath its claws, the poor man narrowly gained the mind to plunge his blade past its gaped jaws, deep into its throat. Tar and pestilence spewed out, and its hook-shaped teeth scraped his gauntlet with a piercing screech, but it bought just enough time for another soldier to run over and hack through the monster's neck.

The helping soldier rammed herself into the horse-sized body, pushing it away from her friend. The pinned soldier sat up, the detached head still lodged on his sword.

"You alright?" The helper asked.

"Yeah..." The first soldier threw the head aside with a flick of his sword.

The second nodded, scanning the pasture. Sadly, there were already many more fallen sylphs than fallen beasts.

"Without a Commander, we're on our own, and tempted as I am to call a retreat..." The first soldier shook his head. "Imagine what they'll do to the next village."

As the second gripped her sword tighter, suppressing her fury, something caught her eye. A faint glint of refracted light. Her focus immediately went back to the head, where there was something just barely protruding from the flesh above the bulging eyes.

Following her stare, the first soldier used his blade to cut back the flesh. From its sticky pull, he released a metal ornament. It featured twin crescent moons with three stars, one extending from either of the crescents and one above them. The metal was tarnished, but it was clearly once gold.

The soldier turned to his companion, and spoke what was clearly both on their mind.

"This looks like a crest."

Image


By midnight, or roughly that time, things had settled across that southern region of Sybilius. Even so, the next move made amongst the Sybilian Army was more nerve-wracking yet.

As the silver moonlight rained down on the open grassland of Sybilius, it highlighted every dewdrop on every blade of meadowgrass. The breeze that glided over these rolling hills, like the lively breath of the kingdom itself, carried the fragrance of moist earth and wildflowers. In the north, the silhouette of the Royal City stood strong, towering with its aged walls, towers, and manors. Of course, none rivaled the gem at the center, the Aubade Palace.

In stark contrast, to the south was an ominous, dark forest. A place where the breath of the hills was cut off, and the fresh, hopeful air that radiated from Sybilius was replaced by a cryptic, indescribable dark aura. Some people got the feeling it was haunted, some that it was cursed, and many constantly felt like they were being watched. The prey in the face of predators.

One far more bold and wizened sylph stood between these two worlds. Her chestnut hair, streaked with violet and decorated by golden beads, whipped in the wind. The crown atop her head glistened in the faint light, as did her silver armor with violet accents.

The woman turned, her light green eyes calm. "Are you prepared, Atara?"

The soldier who accompanied her responded with a firm nod. This figure was well-known around the palace. She was tall and decently muscular. She was recognizable by her stern brown eyes flecked by burnt-orange, and storm-gray hair tied in a thick ponytail. Her armor was intricate and violet, marking her status as a Lieutenant.

"As much as I can be, I guess." Atara huffed, shaking her head. "Things are bound to turn sour with that old serpent."

"I don't blame you for being anxious..." Corelia sighed, fixing her gaze toward the woods. "Let's just hope he keeps to his word, and that nothing happens."

With that, Corelia pressed on toward the forest. Away from the sanctuary that was their city, into the darkness. In her regal armor, she was like a precise blade, cutting through the black veil that awaited them.

It didn't take long before they encountered a chilling landmark.

A stream, roughly ten feet in width, splitting the forest in two. The water was not clear, nor muddy, but an eerie crimson hue. It looked like a vein in the earth, flowing with blood. A series of stones created a path to the other side. They were weathered and scratched from ages of use, and they seemed unnatural, as if an earth mage had forced stone spires from the ground, then flattened the tops.

The other side of the forest had an even more untamed appearance, and the dark aura increased tenfold. It was enough to rattle even hardened soldiers. Atara's hand moved to the hilt of her sword, yet Corelia crossed without even a slight hesitation in her steps.

She hopped from the last stone to the opposite bank, her eyes fixed on the depth of the forest.

'THUNK!'

The queen stopped on a dime. A silver, ritualistic dagger had landed right in front of her steel-reinforced boot, the edge of the blade scraping it by a hair.

Atara braced to draw her weapons, but Corelia forced them to hold off with one calm gesture. The calmness in her demeanor remained, but now her eyes held a dark quality, wary of the wicked presence before her.

A deep, monotone voice echoed in the space around them.

"That is as far as you will be permitted, even on non-hostile terms."

Corelia watched a figure drop from the trees, landing without the slightest sound. Even directly before them, he blended with the darkness. His garb featured the colors of charcoal, ink, and deep wine, and the long mane he was famed for was deep raven-black (aside from the gray collecting along the roots). From his pointed animalian ears, talon-shaped feet, and dust-gray skin riddled with scars, it was easy to see that this was no sylph.

The man stepped forward, crossing his arms. "Although, I must admit, I was not expecting the ideas of you and 'non-hostile' to ever mesh."

"You can just say 'peaceful' and be done with it," Corelia taunted. "Demonic you may be, but I know you're capable."

The man sneered, "The day I believe anything you do is in the name of peace is the day I lose my last thread of sanity."

Corelia sighed, "Leiytning, I did not go out of my way to arrange a meeting without blades just so we can fight with words instead."

Leiytning was clearly not keen to the olive branch she was extending. Though his mane concealed the right side of his face, his left eye was narrowed into a suspicious, hateful glare. It was a deep iridescent blue color, like frigid ocean depths. Cold, dark, and treacherous. Very fitting for this infamous crownless king.

He gave a blunt gesture for her to keep talking.

Corelia continued, "I may not know what pockets of land you claim as your own, nor which ones you monitor on the regular. However, I am more than aware that you have a decent degree of security in these outer lands, certainly more than us."

"Color me shocked," Leiytning remarked.

"Yes, go ahead and take that win," Corelia said bitterly, with a false smile. "I am here to ask if you have noticed strange creatures."

"Clarify," Leiytning spat.

"I've no better word for them that 'monsters.' Entities of pure death and decay, with black blood. Not like yours, but like sludge, rife with disease. Their bodies are distorted, undefinable heaps of..." Corelia faltered, trying to find a word. "Heaps of parts—there's no sense or pattern to them. Cutting them only adds more, and burning them creates smoke so foul and potentially toxic that it's suffocating. They wreak havoc wherever they appear, and have destroyed three of my villages already..." She jabbed a finger toward him. "And before you blame our competence, even you know my army is more than capable of handling beasts. This was different. Likewise, this could easily turn into a mutual threat, and you don't exactly have great standing as a tribe of seven."

"O ye of little faith..." Leiytning partially unsheathed the shortened, pale gold spear on his back. "Say that to the thousands you've had to bury because of this blade alone."

Corelia's eyes narrowed into a cold glare.

Leiytning carelessly continued, muttering as he paced, "As compense for showing some degree of restraint—one time in a row—I suppose I can indulge your question. What you've discovered are mutants, a failed tribe abandoned by its god. That 'heap' is the result of soiled lifeblood, rapid reverse evolution, and unhinged predatory instincts. And yes, their only weak spot is the neck and-or decapitation." He sneered, "While I would love to mock you for fretting about a manageable threat, I will admit that there has been a sharp influx of numbers. Likewise, these are stronger than average."

"'Failed tribe'..." Corelia furrowed her brow. "These things, they were once people?"

Leiytning said nothing, but the no-nonsense gleam of his expression was enough of an answer.

Corelia reached under the chestplate of her armor, then held up the tarnished crest that had come from one of the mutants. Her poor, rattled Sergeants had given it to her upon returning from the fight.

"I don't suppose you know if this crest represents a tribe, do you? One prone to this sort of treatment?"

Leiytning eyed the crest for a long moment, only to answer, "No."

"Liar," Atara grumbled.

"Sit and stay like the dog you are, Akane," Leiytning taunted. "It's all your family is good for."

"You snake-!"

Atara lurched forward, but her blade only made it halfway out of its sheath before Corelia grabbed her by the wrist, immediately stopping her.

"Would it kill you to not antagonize my warriors for once?" Corelia spat.

As Corelia turned to confront Leiytning, she found him closer. She immediately reached for her own sword, only for the demon to step back, lifting the silver dagger.

"Calm down, freak," Leiytning muttered.

"As if I trust the likes of you after all this time..." Corelia sighed, "Well, as I have clearly exhausted your dialogue for now, we will take our leave. Before you lose any mind for 'non-hostility.'"

"Yes, and take your maggot followers with you," Leiytning muttered.

Atara had a look that implied she would strangle the man if she could. Alas, Corelia knew much better, ushering her back across the stream.

"And let it be known!" Corelia called. "I will be looking further into this."

Leiytning's ear twitched with irritation. "Yes, because Sybilian intervention works amazingly."

Corelia did not dignify a response. She and her escort soon vanished amid the dark forest, headed back for the moonlit meadows and regal city.

Meanwhile, from the woods behind Leiytning, another demonic figure emerged; a woman with ashen-black hair, fading to white as it fell to her hips. There were more silhouettes hanging back, deeper in the shadows.

"So she really did 'just want to talk,'" the woman spat, crossing her arms. "There's a first. Pity, I was hoping to put a dent in her."

"Calm yourself, Thundur..." Leiytning held up the tarnished crest. "We didn't walk out of this with nothing."

The woman's ears perked. "It is a small clue, but it's something."

"Exactly, and we shall investigate immediately. Not only to stay ahead of Corelia, but to get to the root of where, how, and why these mutants are manifesting." The shadow-cloaked demons followed him into the depths of the forest. "They are becoming far more of a pest than I would have initially thought. And it's not just us, nor Sybilius, that they are starting to impact."
Last edited by Ravena on Mon Aug 04, 2025 10:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
(Formerly RavenAkuma)

~ "Believe only half of what you see, and nothing that you hear." ~

- Edgar Allan Poe




Random avatar
Gender Female
Points 89563
Reviews 672
Image
Written by Ravena


**Warning for alcohol consumption and mild language


'Chop!'

The sound of an ax splitting firewood had become repetitive and monotonous to Miruki. Something that wore on his nerves a bit. Especially since it was a hot day in Sybilius, and not even the cool breeze that rolled across the green hills could counter the sun's rays, beating down against his back without mercy.

Miruki paused and stepped back from the stump, wiping his brow. The young man, about nineteen years old, stood roughly 5'11 with an average build. The white tank and dark pants he wore were soaked and clinging to his ash-white skin, riddled with minor scars, while nature-themed tattoos covered his right arm. His hair was midnight-black, fluffy and tied back in a short tail. As he removed the hand-wrappings he'd been wearing, it showed that both hands were rough with calluses, the knuckles worn raw and seconds from bleeding.

It didn't take long before a voice cut across the small lumber yard; "No breaks, Seraphel, I don't pay you to stand around!"

Miruki sneered, adjusting his square-framed glasses over his forest-green eyes. He barely got 'paid' at all—if he did, he wouldn't feel the need to take on several of these low-end jobs at once, and put up with the smug, critical sylphs seeking to exploit his desperation. Unfortunately, nowhere better had the desire to hire someone with such an 'infamous' name.

Seraphel. That name had been his curse since birth. Sometimes it came in use, but more often than not, it just drew unnecessary attention. Needless to mention the generational reputation that got passed around, especially in Sybilian cities. Miruki couldn't blame people for being wary; the heroic stories of leaving a seedy life behind and redeeming oneself were rare in the real world, especially when the criminals had legions of luxuries bought through blood money. But at the same time, too many average sylphs took it a step further, treating him either like a rapid dog to muzzle and fear, or a pack mule to whip and abuse.

Miruki sighed deeply, checking the gold pocket watch he kept on his person. Six-twenty. That was twenty minutes past his agreed work time, contrary to the owner pushing him to keep going.

Sucking in a deep breath, Miruki chopped his way through just a few more logs before slamming his ax into the stump and heading back toward the main building. As he told the man at the front counter that he was done for the day, all he got was a quiet glower in response. So typical.

Heading down the stretch of dirt path, the lone sylph made it to the main road of his village, Thistleton. Normally, he would tidy up at his house, conveniently located on the outskirts of the village and far away from the common population. But with no patience or energy left in him, he went straight down to the local tavern. A historic building with aged wood, and there would be many more in this region of Sybilius if not for the past wars. Especially with the Zyrean Demons, a tribe that most sylph civilians didn't even know about nowadays.

Entering the tavern, Miruki settled down at a table in the far corner. He avoided the civilians, and they avoided him as always. Instead, he tried to lose himself in a pint of cold, frothy beer that had been brought to him by a wary waitress.

Before long, traffic picked up, and the tavern grew loud and rowdy. It was prime time for local workers to head down for a drink, some hoping to numb their minds like Miruki, some simply looking to socialize. There was still always at least one table between Miruki and any visitors, and the more the noise went up, the more tempted he was to leave. Instead, he figured he could at least finish his drink, instead of wasting a perfectly good brew.

Eventually, however, his interest was drawn to the table next to him.

Rather than the typical roster of vaguely familiar faces, they were two soldiers. Even though they were in plain clothes instead of the iconic silver armor, Miruki recognized the uniforms as a type given out by the Sybilian army, for soldiers to use while they were inactive on missions. Naturally, he had no experience in the army, but thanks to the criminal syndicate that was his family, he had heard plenty of rumors and confirmed wisdom. Things like this came in use for dodging authorities (or worse).

Naturally, Miruki had no desire to bring any trouble to these men. However, he couldn't resist keeping an eye on them. After all, it wasn't every day that soldiers came through Thistleton. Even if it was a village close to the border, and therefore a prime target for beasts and invaders to attack, it was usually too small to draw attention.

He heard one of the soldiers speaking in a quiet tone, "I don't know about you, but I'm starting to get nervous about these missions. If we have to fight more of those things..."

That caught Miruki's attention, and at this point, he couldn't resist eavesdropping.

The second soldier spoke equally quietly—words that would've gone unnoticed to anyone who wasn't explicitly paying attention; "I know. But if we don't do something, who will? These things are a real menace..." The man sighed, sipping from a glass of water. "Did you know that even Corelia herself felt the need to turn to the Infernal Alpha for information?"

There, Miruki froze, nearly choking on his swig of beer. Just as he knew about the uniform, he had picked up plenty of 'code terms' from the army. And if he was remembering correctly, the 'Infernal Alpha' was a reference to him.

The notorious demon king, Leiytning the Heretic.

Miruki thought to himself, If I heard that right, Corelia went to HIM for information?

He heard the soldier summarize that same thought; "Whether it worked or not, she wouldn't do such a thing unless the situation were desperate."

The other soldier sneered, "No kidding...Gods, I hope we resolve this soon."

While the soldiers settled down, trying to unwind with their respective choices in alcohol, Miruki downed his final swig of beer and tried to discreetly hurry out of the tavern.

Image


In his shabby house, secluded in the rural edges of Thistleton, Miruki had practically torn the cramped quarters apart to find what he needed. The single connected living room-kitchen space had boxes strewn across its small round table, and occupying the lonely chair by the humble fireplace. The stairs, steep and narrow enough to be more like a ladder, led to the loft where his bedroll was, and the final couple of boxes.

Sure, the place was tiny, and he didn't have even a fraction of the luxuries that most Sybilians, even among the poorer classes, got nowadays. But even this was better than the hellhole he had come from, in his eyes. There were just a select few things (or rather, contraband) from his former life that he held onto, for practicality's sake.

Finally, Miruki found the one he was looking for: a dark blue crystal with clean-cut, sharp ends. There was also a lantern-shaped contraption with carvings along the iron base.

Taking both pieces down to the room below, Miruki cleared enough space on the table to set down the lantern. Then, he set the crystal in the silver ring within the lantern, where it seemed a candle was meant to go.

The faintest bit of silver light coursed through the lantern, only to grow brighter as Miruki placed one hand atop it and spoke a quiet incantation;

"Fer nuntium meum, vas fictile."

The crystal flashed with a deep blue glow, and lantern coursed with light, radiating through its engravings.

Within a moment, the crystal glowed brighter, holding the light this time. As did the engravings with their silvery sheen. The true trick, however, lay in the voice that came through the magic stone. The voice on the other end was rough with a low-end accent, yet the crystalline host gave it a mystical ring.

"Oi? That you, Rukes?"

"Aye," Miruki responded. "Sabian, you read?"

The voice chuckled, "It's been some time, kid! I'd like to think you just missed me that much, but we both know you wouldn't take the risk of contacting anyone out here unless there was somethin' serious on your plate. So..." The sound of patiently-tapping nails narrowly made it through the crystal. "What are you after?"

"Have you heard any news about the Zyrean Demons?" Miruki asked. "Or any recent clashes with Sybilian ranks?"

"The Zyreans, eh? Almost forgot those fossils even existed..." Sabian sighed, "I haven't heard anything about Zyreans in particular, but why do you ask?"

"I picked up some intel from a couple of soldiers earlier," Miruki explained. "Apparently, something spooked the majesty-lady herself into meeting up with their alpha. Now, I ain't exactly in-tune with Sybilian politics, but I know enough to know THAT ain't normal. Those two got a rivalry that transcends any language or regional barrier, even if it's in the form of some basic nursery rhyme."

Sabian let out a wheezy laugh, "You are probably the first Aubade I've known, even in your family's circles, that referred to Corelia as 'the majesty-lady,' and is this clueless about the state of your own home territory."

"Ah, shut it," Miruki argued. "This ain't even my home territory, and I was a little more focused on survival than the happenings in a territory I got no connection to, thank you."

"Then why are you living there, if you got no interest?"

Miruki's brow furrowed at the thought. "It's not like, in the state of this world, you have a lotta options for movin' around."

"Yeah, I guess..." Sabian cleared his throat. "Well, kid, you got one thing right. It is real strange to hear about Aubades consulting Zyreans, or vice-versa. Much less the two leaders. And I may not have heard anything regarding those two tribes specifically, but I do have a couple of rumors from some vagrants, scrappers, and degenerates abroad. Somethin' that would no doubt catch the eye of the largest territory on the mainland and its oblivious mortal queen. Enough to maybe resort to dealin' with that old devil."

Miruki sank deeper into his seat, trying to think about it. "Go on."

"There's a new and unexplained phenomenon going on in the corners of this land. Stuff regarding some nasty monsters. Mutants."

Miruki sneered, "Oh please, mutants ain't new—just 'cause you don't see or fight 'em every day, it don't mean they haven't popped up before. One little tribe fails, collapses in on itself, and the remnants squirm until nature kills 'em off."

"Yeah? Well, that ain't happening here, kid. From what I heard, it's the other way around. Not only are these mutants stronger than average, and creepin' all over the continent, but they come with an anomaly. Some report thick black, thorny roots that don't fit the nature around them. Some report large black buds, almost like forming flowers. Some report nasty, snagging vines that seem to have no end. The list continues, and in almost every case, these things kill the nature around them, not the other way around."

Miruki's eyes narrowed. "And you've confirmed these things and the mutants are related?"

"That's right. If mutants are in the area, they often congregate around those things, especially the buds. Even the way they've branched out seems almost strategically random. Sure, they still attack with no thought whatsoever, but they have enough sense to know when to retreat, when to clump up, and when to disperse—another very atypical habit for these monsters."

"Aye, that it is..." Miruki murmured, starting to fidget with a deck of worn cards in his pocket.

"Now here's my question; what are you doing with this information? Take up arms in the name of your 'majesty-lady,' eh?"

While Sabian laughed, Miruki sneered, "I don't think Corelia'd enlist the likes of me on a good day. But since this seems rooted outside most major territories, and it's drawing attention from Sybilius—which will no doubt catch the Zyreans' interest too..." He hesitated. "I do almost have the compulsion to investigate this."

"Do it at your own peril, kid, but think this through. Do you really wanna risk throwin' away your progress after resettling there, just to dive headfirst into a bunch of rumors and potentially unchecked danger?"

Miruki sneered, "I really don't have anything right now that isn't worth throwing away, trust me. Besides, Sybilius is a massive territory; with our lineup of tricks, I can fail in one town and restart in the next, no questions asked. It may be a pain-in-the-ass, but frankly, I'd rather take the risk and check this out than keep choppin' firewood with a bunch a' oblivious sylphs. And who knows..." He smirked, blindly drawing one card from the deck—a red ace. "Maybe this situation could use some Seraphel cunning."

Sabian sighed, "If you say so. But you better know what you're doing, and don't come cryin' if this blows up somehow, got it?"

"It won't," Miruki said dismissively. "I know what I'm doing."
(Formerly RavenAkuma)

~ "Believe only half of what you see, and nothing that you hear." ~

- Edgar Allan Poe




User avatar
Gender Male
Points 12468
Reviews 158
Image
Written by goodolnoah

Warning: Descriptions of gore!

A little girl peeked through a large collection of foliage. Her pale skin was littered with cuts from the thorny bushes she’d pushed through, her dress was similarly wracked with loose fabric and the occasional small rip. She playfully jumped across rock formations in the ground, staying away from the grass as if it was lava.

Her game ended when something caught her eye from across the empty field. A black bud.

She looked around, scanning for onlookers. When she realized it was only herself, she made the move to examine the anomaly. The stem and surface of the flower was a near-perfect black. Like a void had formed within nature itself. She stepped closer to the object, admiring it despite the abnormality of the situation. There had been echoes of panic over the black buds within her village, but she never understood why everyone was so put off by them. Was it a natural sight? Was it an invasive species? Maybe it was a new genus of flower?

As the little girl’s curiosity got the best of her, she reached for it.

“Halt!” A voice called out, seemingly from the heavens itself.

The girl’s eyes flew to the sky. Something or someone was gliding above the clouds. It circled in the way a vulture might. It spun in a tailspin and angled itself straight down at the ground. Violently rocketing towards the girl. As the figure came into sight, she recognized a species that wasn’t familiar. She stumbled backwards, her heart beating fast. Could it be a demon? She was not prepared to fight for herself.

The little girl was ready to scream when the person attached to the air glider landed. This was not a demon. It was another species she wasn’t familiar with. She was far taller than her, with blue skin and short hair. Her ears were unlike that of the Sylphs. Instead of pointy and elf-like, the Nymph before her had hairy tufts that protruded through her dark red hair. The flight suit she wore was stubborn with the color it wanted to be, but it began to settle on a vibrant red color. The goggles she wore made her seem extra threatening. Her air glider folded in on itself, allowing for the woman to attach it to her person.

She pulled her goggles down, revealing blue, star-like eyes. Despite her seemingly aggressive landing, the women before her exuded a spiritual aura. Cloud-like protrusions came from her wrists, absent-mindedly floating into the air. “Hey there. Are you alright? Step back from that thing.”

The little girl stuttered “Why? It’s a flower.”

“I’m sure your parents told you to stay away from it.”

“Well…They didn’t tell me what made the flower dangerous.”

The woman scoffed. “Listen here young one. This will be a black flower. I’m not sure how, but it’s related to mutant activity. Hear that? That’s why yokŏr like myself have been ordered to keep watch and destroy any signs of the monsters.”

An energy began to slink around the woman’s hand. The cloud-like extensions that came from her wrists turned a deeper gray color as lightning trailed around her body. The woman pointed her finger at the black bud, and expended the light amount of energy in one flourish, obliterating the remnants of the flower.

“What’s a…yokŏr?” The little girl asked.

“I’m a searcher. I watch for abnormalities in nature. Even sinister forces as little as this black bud don't get past me!” The woman proclaimed. She didn’t touch the little girl, but she knelt down to her height. She was aware of the potential fear that might arise from an outsider.

“Here.” She reached into the satchel on her hip and pulled out a white flower that had a subtle sparkle to it. “A symbol of peace between tribes. My people call it a Tsukihana. Plus, it won’t pose any danger to you. Only a symbol of light to look for in the night.”

The little girl took the flower and held it close. “Pretty…”

“If I see you again, I’m Hiko. Stay safe, and don’t play outdoors so far away from your parents. I’m sure they must be worried.”

Hiko left the girl alone, gave her a kind nod, and rose herself to higher ground where she could begin to glide. With the assistance of some wind magic, she rose into the sky and caught a clear gust of wind in order to float above the heavens. The sun was beginning to set, and the land below would soon become an infinite expanse of darkness.

Hiko arrived at a circular structure that was built into the side of a mountainous protrusion in her homeland of Xasteria. It was riddled with mountains. At the very edge of the island, overlooking the water was the largest mountain in the tribe. The Sky Nymphs could act like guardian overseers of the land of the north.

The yokŏr were the people who surveyed the land with their air gliders. It was natural that many of them would be invested in the well-being of nature, too. That was their main concern. Invasive species, forest fires, and environmental destruction were the main things they handled on a day-to-day basis. However, the threat of mutants was becoming more and more prevalent as the months dragged on.

Hiko met some fellow yokŏr when she arrived. They helped her out of her flight gear, and they shared a hearty dinner while looking over the setting sun.

Hiko reported to her superior as they ate. “I destroyed more of those black buds today. Not much more to report. I met with the Sylbian soldiers. They were sending forces down to the south to help with this black plague situation.”

“We are lucky we are northbound. It seems like the problem is prevalent in the south.”

The other yokŏr said, “When the north is overrun, our heart will be exposed. We can’t afford for this to get worse.”

The superior yokŏr rubbed his chin. “Ursula and I will head into Sybilius to get a bigger picture. You have the coming days off, right, Hiko? Family time, correct?”

“The Kumociel’s Katukyo day is coming.”

“Yes. How could I forget?”

Katukyo day was something like a dedicated family day. Every family in Xasteria was given their own “personal days” that would usually include a family gathering. With all the chaos, and the Kumociel family being a royal family on top of that, there wasn’t as much time for family as everyone would like.

Besides, Hiko wasn’t exactly the family favorite, she thought as she entered her house. The houses of the Sky Nymphs took the form of small huts, usually with a few dedicated rooms. Their island-bound lives among the mountains forced them to be conservative with living arrangements, leaving room for nature to grow naturally around them.

“Sister. I hope work went well.” A voice echoed from the bathroom. Chi-Chi was probably in the middle of her bath.

It was every night that Chi-Chi bathed. Every day she would convene with their god Helia. According to Xasteria myth, the deity was real, and had contacted certain subsects of royalty, especially those who were spiritually in tune with nature.

Chi-Chi works as a patron saint under the Kumociel royal family. She is one of the main people who can speak for Helia. Hiko always admitted that she wasn’t fit for this role. Staying in tune with nature was something embedded in their society, but staying in tune with nature and expecting it to give you something back? Even the god-fearing people of Xasteria clung to their traditions out of fear. Hiko loved nature for the sake of loving nature.

Besides, she wasn’t the type who had the confidence or the “purity” to bless the less fortunate.

Hiko unzipped her pouch and pulled some books out, placing them at the edge of the dinner table. Some of them were in Sybilian tongue that she didn’t fully understand. Others were from far away tribes.

“Got those books you wanted! You wanted the one called…The Siloch Treaty right?”

Chi-Chi was out of the bath. It was at night that she dressed light. A nightgown that lacked the often heavy ceremonial clothing she wore otherwise. She corrected Hiko lightly. “It was The Siloch Hauntings, but this will do. As long as it looks interesting.”

Hiko closed the blinds in their home, gearing up for the night. She ignited some candles around the home, lazily pointing and shooting small bursts of lightning around to light the wicks. She placed the collection of tsukihana she’d found into a vase, creating a small light source at the dinner table.

“One of the council was reported dead today.” Chi-Chi blurted. “Representative Blixca.”

Hiko reacted heedlessly. “Wow. I would've thought Senga was the first to go. Was it sudden?”

“I know you don’t like Senga. I…don’t much either, but this is big news. It was sudden and without warning. A patron saint might have to step up while the council decides which of his kin will take his place.” Chi-Chi informed with her hands crossed. She folded her long hair between her fingers.

“So that means they might choose you to step up in his place? I’m starting to think maybe you killed him.” Hiko joked.

“Don’t say things like that! This is serious business. If I were to be moved up…I would have access to more records. Maybe some records about a certain…” Chi-Chi trailed off. Trying not to say the quiet part out loud.

Hiko remembered as well as Chi-Chi did. The event that sent them on two different paths. One that made Chi-Chi double down on her involvement in royal matters, and one that made Hiko abandon them altogether.

Years ago, a member of the council, Senga was caught by a yokŏr conspiring with the Zyrean Demons, Sybilius’ direct enemy. Xaestria was a trusted confidant of Sybilius royalty in a rare peaceful agreement between tribes.

As children, they stumbled upon Senga covering up his own misdeeds. He killed the yokŏr which had threatened to expose him before their eyes. Blood pooled under the door that they were listening close to from behind, soaking each of their feet.

The sisters wanted to expose Senga, but it seemed his own work was covered up by the tribe. There was a hidden truth somewhere out there. Buried under years of records. A traitor laid within their ranks, and they couldn’t do anything to stop him.

An advancement in position would mean Chi-Chi might finally be able to uncover the past.

Hiko interrupted her sister, “you can do what you want. But I told you to stay away from that. If we get close to the truth, we could just become another body in the pile of forbidden secrets. Don’t do anything you think you’ll regret.”

Image


After Hiko went to bed, Chi-Chi sat in her bedroom, frozen in a meditative position. She placed a wooden totem that had words written in ancient Xaestrian language. She lit some incense, and used it to light candles that surrounded her. She brought a blindfold to her face and held the totem close while whispering foreign words.

The smell of incense and smoke invaded her senses. She ascended to a land of darkness. “Helia. Lend me your eyes and ears. Please.” She whispered in an ancient tune.

Helia did not speak to her. Chi-Chi had to interpret its feelings. Usually Helia’s feelings were much more interpretive. This time, the connection was strong. Chi-Chi felt one emotion from her god.

Dread

This time, Helia did not offer Chi-Chi its eyes. But she did offer her its ears.

The ear-splitting noise of wailing echoed in her ears. It overtook the wind between her hair, the white noise coming from the fire, the sounds of her nails scratching against the floor. Screams, flesh tearing, and cries for a nonexistent god nearly deafened her. Like a violent wind, it didn’t stop. More and more voices joined in a chorus of demonic shouts of terror and burning.

Chi-Chi tore the blindfold from her face, her heart beating from her chest. The panic stayed present in her body as she put out the candles and incense. She slunk out of her room into clean air, finding her way to the dinner table where the Tsukihana sat. A light to calm her trepidation.

Her eyes hovered over Hiko’s door.

“No…She wouldn’t understand…” She told herself.



Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.
— Leonardo da Vinci