StormBringer

Ch. 1

Color, vibrant color, unlike any ever beheld by human eyes. Hues so vibrant that no color of the norm could hope to contend with. That is the first thing that I noted, the first thing of note of a world beyond. I was standing within a vast valley who's soft shining grass dotted with flowers of all colors, trees as old as time casting their kind shade upon any traveler who wished to sit and rest, and far off, in the distance, the earth and it's jagged blue mountains kissed the skies. Though the earth was beautiful, it could not rival the vast, rolling skies. It was within the skies that color, beauty, power and the unknown met in a divine embrace that encompassed the world. I knew those skies, for it was within them that I was born, born with the creatures that traversed the clouds, that thrived within the heavens and their ever changing colors.

We, who are born into this unending sea above, are creatures of unrivaled power. We are creatures that have no chains that hold us down upon the hard earth, we chose what we do, were we go, and when we visit the poor creatures that are limit to the soil and rock. Many upon the worlds look up at us, with awe, wonder and fear within their eyes and hearts, and dreams to join our kind in our realm. Yet, they never will, for I believe that if they do, they will die from one of the many beast that rule the world without ground, the seas of clouds, and of course, the unrivaled storms. I looked on at this world, this world that I called home. Though there where those that share the untamed skies with me, we where different, much different.

Where these fantastical and perfect creatures flew on wings as vast as the great planes, where their minds cared for only themselves, their bodies unlike any seen on ground and sea they had only one flaw, a flaw that I lacked, they had limited lives. They could live for many millennium, but eventually, tragically time would slip them from it's hand and they will find the embrace of death. Yet I, the one creature within the sea of skies that needs the wings of another, who had taken a body like man's, I have found myself outside death's reach, and time has no hold over me, for I am immortal. I have seen the birth of the world of humanity, I have see creation begin and end, worlds formed then die in the fire of time. This unending life of mine had given me many gifts; friends, power, knowledge, and a home.

So I look at my home, the first world that man will find after they take their last rest within Earth's soft bed, I can still see the lights of souls that traverse through pine wood forests, that swim through the white capped waves, that scale the blue stone mountains in hopes to touch the flowing colors of the skies. They help me feel,... loved, yet I never reveal to them what I am, for if I did, fear and hate would be placed with in their hearts. For who could love the ruler of skies, who brings necessary destruction were ever he goes, who's soul is a dark mass of clouds, that roars with unequaled winds, flooding rain, and sparks of light and fire that crack the darkness. That is what I am, a living storm. Though, it was only a matter of time that my home, the world between the Over-world and the Under would be lost in war, a war started by the Deceiver, the Lord of Shadows, the king of the Under-world, Tenebris, and I could not stop him. All my power, all my skill and still I could not hope to fight Death.

It all began before man's fall, the first rays of day made their attempt to pierce through a dark mass of clouds. Light cracked across the sky, followed by a blood curdling growl of thunder, the wind cried out in destructive force, and rain fell down in a torrent to cover the land in floods. I was there, at the eye of the storm, upon the back of a pure white wyvern, who's scales shown like stars with rain, who's maw was filled with many sharp teeth that could rend flesh from bone with ease. I could feel it's muscle under me with each minor movement as it guided masterfully through the consistently changing flow of the winds. It was born to carry my body across the sea of air that we called home, and a true warrior's mount that knew the flow of the storm like it knew it's own breath. I inspected my self, my armor glistened with rain on the polished silver plates that covered my body in it's protective shell. I clutched the reigns tight as my body matched the beat of the wyvern's wings. I looked down to my sword, encased within a simple black scabbard, the belt pulled tight to keep the blade from slipping away into open air. I was ready, ready to start the last dance of unnecessary chaos that gripped my home, the dance that had taken many lives that should not have ended. It had taken away my shield mates, those that had life like mine yet met their end with tooth, blade, and claw. I looked towards a break within the dark clouds, and looked away, sickened from what I saw. My world, my perfect, peaceful world that so many souls had lived within, was gone.

The colors, oh all those beautiful colors, from the vibrant greens of the fields of grass and forest leaves, to the flowers that grew in spring, even the blues of the waters that flowed down from the white topped mountains, all taken away. What was left was a sick and twisted mockery of what once was; the glowing orange, and yellow flames had turned the fields and forest gray with ash, rivers stained red with blood from those who had fallen, and lands covered in darkness as the armies of the Underworld crawled from the pit that they called home. Smoke from the burnt villages twisted into the clouds of the storm that pored it's rain in hopes to smother out the flames that ate away the world it knew for so long. Those burning tongues from hell, that writhed and danced across the planes. All that became caught within their deadly hate, soon joined the mounds of the dead, as burnt and chard husks of their former selves.

I could not stop the growing fires, this fact alone forced anger into my mind and heart, for fire should not win against my winds and water, it never had till then, so I turned my anger on the creatures of the pit that had ruined my world. I had thought that my power would have been enough, yet anger that I had been wrong grew. It festered within my heart that I was wrong, and my world had payed for it.

I had begun the war with hope and spirit, thinking that I could fight off the demons that came into my paradise with my power, and I was not alone. More of my kind where there or had been on their way, immortals that ruled over the stones, the forests, the seas and flames, thirteen of us that death could not find. We could not be killed by the pathetic, twisted monstrosities that came through the cracked earth, the Rift, no they could not kill us, but we could kill them and so we did. We had lead an army of creatures from each of the thirteen's realms to war, and at first, the fighting seemed to turn in our favor, until HE appeared above the ripped earth over the Rift. Tenebris was cruel, wicked, and a living nightmare, that ruled over the Under-world with power unlike any before since he came to be.

He had chosen a body made of pure shadow and darkness, a withering smoky mass of blood, rotting flesh, and night-black bone, that light failed to find. He wore a black cloak that covered most of his long, thin, grotesque body, yet it could not hide it all. His lower body was like a wraith, black smoke were legs should have been, and he moved more like a snake or naga than man. His upper body, thin as bone yet was still so strong, his long arms, hidden within the sleeves of his ragged cloak, ended in clawed hands that were covered in horrific maws that bit with jagged teeth at anything they could, and his torso was protected within a solid black plate armor that made from the black rock of Hell. Thankfully, thick shadows hide away his face, most likely as grotesque as the rest of his body, and the hood of the cloak concealed his head so that such a nightmarish sight could not be viewed by any living thing. Finally, scores of snake like arms protruded from his back, they were as long as ten grown men put together were tall, and each were like thinner kin to the two main arms of his body. I thought of the way he fought, extending, growing, manipulating every inch of his body to be used as a weapon however he wished. He was bloodthirsty, never caring on who his claws, teeth, and blades found, only caring that they found a victim to shed blood. He was pure rage and death that left hundreds of thousands of corpses behind him. This would not have frightened any of the thirteen, until we found that he had killed one of us, he had pierced the poor man's heart and torn his body apart with his strength alone. We found fear that day, the day we realized that Death had found a way to end our immortality.

We had lost the war, I was among the few remaining members of the thirteen, yet I was the last willing to fight. The four others had fled to the world of men, fled like the dogs and cowards that they were. I had watched them leave through the Golden Gates, the only way into the mortal world from our own. I could not think of them as my brothers and sisters any longer, for they were cowards, and not worth my worry and kinship. So I turned away those thoughts from my mind, and allowed anger to boil my blood, for this was to be my final dance of war. The wyvern screeched for blood, it had known my plan, it had known who I sought and it was not long before we had found our prey. He was there, orchestrating the war from the front lines of the mangled hoard of creatures, killing any in his path with ease and skill. Yet he was over confident, for though he fought on and never revealed his back to his enemy, he was to used to the fight being on the hard and blood drenched earth, and never thought to guard himself from the air.

We shot out from the dark clouds, bolts of light cracked down and obliterated any unfortunate to be caught in the light's power. Hail rained down like millions of arrows to mow down the creatures, and the winds themselves twisted and ripped apart legions as funnels of air raked across the land. The storm was fighting the war alone, and nothing could stop my wrath.

We shot to the earth as fast as the winds of the hurricane, to skim close to the ground. We were right in the middle of the hoard of the Under World, cutting hundreds down as we flew past. The wyvern's wings tore the demons apart, blood flowed behind us like black ribbons in the breeze. Those demons were nothing to me, more a nuisance to me than a threat. So I payed no mind as I bent low to the leather of the saddle as we shot on unhindered. We were the wind, nothing could harm us, nothing could catch us, and death trailed behind. I looked to our prey, I saw him coming, and an arrow of fear pierced my heart. He was like nothing I saw before, black, orange and flame melded with the sky, red soaked the rock as more dead joined the masses, and he was in the thick of it, death in his hands. We drew closer, fast, he had to die. Closer, everything blurred as we came to the prey. We neared him, I drew my sword, the silver steel hummed with a thirst for blood. Closer, so close now that I could take his head. Time slowed, down to a near unbearable pace. I could see it all, the grotesque demons' claws and teeth, the clear crystal rain, upon the trampled field of grass a single white rose, stained red and charred from flame. I could hear the beat of the wyvern's wings, the clap of thunder up above, the constant drum of my heart and the air being cut by the edge of my blade. I pushed my sword through it's path, to finish a war that should have never been.

Suddenly, the dark king turned to me, horror filled my heart as my blade came down. Fear gripped my very soul, as I saw his shining, fire red eyes. Eyes so filled with hate, so thirsty for death, so much darkness, that I will never forget. My blade was at his throat, and the wyvern had sped on through, yet he laughed and drew a blade that should never have been forged. On that day, I had discovered fear, never have I feared a thing, not my power, my allies, my enemy, nor had I feared death to come to my body. Yet on that day, I had feared, and never had I thought that I could fear what was in front of me. With pure strength that I never saw before, and speed unlike anything I could imagine, he knocked my wyvern out of the air. I was thrown down upon my back onto the hard rock of the world. My armor bent inward, pain rushed through my body, so much so that I saw stars dance around my sight. The taste of dirt and blood filled my mouth, my shining silver blood mixed in with the black that pooled on the ground. I tried to rise from the stone, yet the demon hoard kept me down. Anger filled me, and luck was run