Obi Land

Fallen

One

~~~~

Chains rip against my skin, tearing flesh with their jagged edges. My raw skin screams, and I am punished for it. I look up at my holder, my keeper, my torturer, and I smirk. I won't be here much longer.

~~~~

People always assume I do not remember the events that occurred during the first few years of my life. They all seem to think I am like them, that I too am restricted by the pitiful weakness of the human mind. Ha! The fools. They swarm around, doing as they are told, even if they are not aware they received any orders. Pathetic!

Upon my exiting of the womb, the woman I would have called mother was slain. This is reasonable seeing as they no longer had any use for her. I was carried by a reserved, dark skinned man to a room adorned with a various array of occult related objects. The man, whose name I was never told, set me upon a soft cushion.

I did not shed infinite, pointless tears, as most children would have, I had not cried yet. At first everyone had worried that I could not breath, that their little "experiment" would not succeed because it, I, would die. Then, the idiots actually figured out that I was breathing.

A matter of minutes after I had been placed upon the velvet black cushion, another man, this one blonde and fair skinned, entered the room bearing what appeared to be a bucket containing some form of dark liquid. He poured it gently into a hollowed square object. They then carried me to it, held me over the think, red liquid. And then…

I was baptized in my mother's blood.

The men placed me atop the floor, within a strange symbol. Blood dripped down my baby fat face as I sat intently watching the men do what appeared to be a stupid hopping…thing. It was a ritual dance.

The lines of the symbol burst into beautiful red flames as the men continued their chanting and dancing. Dancing flames became black as I watched, unsure of what was going on. Confused, yet intrigued, as much as a newborn babe could be anyway, I assumed the role of the silent audience to a dark ritual. The jet-black smoke rising from the burning dance of dark light began to take form.

The idiots ceased their ridiculous dancing and chanting as the smoke took the form of a man in his thirties with elegant wings of darkness sprouting from his back. He seemed to glow with his own eerie light, as though he could light the room on his own. He reached a clawed hand to me, his blood red eyes flaring.

"Why is it not sobbing? Why does the child not fear me? Did you not obey me?" His voice echoed throughout the room. It's resonating sound returning to my ears even after it had faded away.

One of the idiots stepped forward, obviously trembling. "I-I-I'm s-sorry, Lord…we d-d-d-did just as…just as you ordered us to!" The idiot coward flinched, though the dark man had done nothing.

"I shall return when this boy has stolen eleven more years worth of air from my land. Perhaps he has simply yet to learn of fear." With a wave of his hand, the man disappeared, not even leaving a tacky puff of smoke in his wake.

I was then taken from the room. The same man who had carried me before, now cradled me in his arms as I was taken to what would become my home. He laid me in a crude cradle that rested in a small room. Looking around I saw what I did not know at the time to be obvious signs that no one had lived here for many years. What I did know was that a dark aura, nothing like the winged man's, smoothly glided throughout this place.

For seven years I was trained and taught of many things. I was instructed by all the best teachers in how to commence battle; I was taught of ritual; I was taught of intelligent matters. I even learned how to play a ridiculous musical instrument. Throughout the entirety of this time, I thought of those around me as idiots. They were quite obviously not worth my time, but being so young, I could still learn a few things from them. I had decided I would squeeze as much usefulness out of them as possible, and then I would leave. If I was in a good mood, I might even let a few of them live.

The day after my seventh birthday, the man teaching my to play the completely useless excuse for an instrument, also known as a guitar, approached me as I was…not enjoying my lunch.

He stood before me, blocking my view of the pitiful morons roaming the dreary streets. "Hello, Naid," He said, using my nickname. It was the one thing I didn't disliked about him; He was the only person I could convince not to call me Naidisian.

"Hn." I wasn't very much of a speaker.

He didn't even blink at my terrible excuse for a greeting; he had known me for four years after all. "I was thinking…and I think maybe it'd be better if I taught you something else. You obviously aren't interested in guitar anyway."

"And what will you be forcing me into now, Tenna-sensei?"

He smiled. "Why do you insist on calling your teachers sensei? Do you even know what that means?"

"It means teacher. You didn't answer me." I looked up at him, my expression unreadable.

"At first this may seem to be something you would…well...hate, but I think you'll-"

"Get on with it, sensei"

"Writing."

"You were right." I looked back at my food, bored. "Sounds like I'll hate it."

His eyes turned nearly pleading as he gazed down at me. Sometimes, I really hated being short. "It's nothing like those writings you do for your English teacher." He scratched at his head. "It's far better, trust me."

I turn my head up, looking him in the eye. "No more guitar?"

"No more guitar."

"Okay then, I'll try."

He looked slightly pleased, but only slightly, and turned to leave. "Sensei..." He turned back with a questioning look. "What if I want to write one of the things we don't have words for?" He did no more than look at me strangely before grinning, ruffling my hair, and turning back to wherever he had to be.

Two

~~~~

He throws me down, sending me into the hard stone floor beneath our feet. The cold of it seeps through my skin as I lie unable to move any longer. I forcefully take dead air into my lungs, creating a burning sensation in my neck as I harm the already raw inside of my throat.

~~~~

Four more years of a useless education after somehow being freed of the guitar later, I found myself once again in the room. I could see it better, find more detail. Even I, as an infant, was limited in ability. The floor was grimy outside the symbol, which had become boring in years of lectures. The ceiling was low, only high enough to allow room for the winged man to stand.

And stand he did. Before me, staring down into my eyes from what he obviously thought was his seat up high. Anger was reflected in his eyes. A malignant need to be feared clearly flowed from him, though for some reason I was the only one able to notice. The priests throughout the room were bent over, bowing before the most terrible being they had ever seen. Secretly bowing in some extent to their less feared creation.

He reached a pale, clawed hand towards my face. His hands were cold. It reminded me of death. Death is cold. But a release, his hands release nothing, they only enslave! They take and steal; they wreck and ravage; they destroy all they touch. It surprised me that my face did not decay at his touch. Then, it surprised me more at the turn my thoughts had taken.

Those were not my thoughts.

The dark man looked at me oddly, seeing that my mind was not with him in the dark little room, which had seemed so much larger the last time I had been in it. Rage flared in his eyes and his aura as he moved his hand from me, only to crash it into my face with force enough to send my flying through the wall to my right.

Wood splintered at the impact, cement cracked at the force, and I was in a great deal more pain than anyone had ever before dared to put me in. Being thrown through walls really hurts. Blood seeped from gashes in my skin, skin which had once held the perfection gained from too little sunlight and too much training.

I stood. I faced the man with wings of darkness sprouting gracefully from his back. He expected me to be afraid, to be pained. He honestly thought I would give a fuck about anything other than hurting him back. Turns out, the Dark Lord Chaos of Nihrathi was just as stupid as the miserable people he ruled over.

For eleven years I had thought of him as better than them, as someone actually capable of some semblance of intelligent thought. Finally knowing better, finally seeing him as the pathetic, holier than thou idiot he was, I found myself capable of doing more than staring at him unafraid, uncaring.

I was angry.

And you did not want me to be angry if you valued your life.

I know he didn't.

An almost static energy rushed through my body, flowing like water, burning as though it were flame, crackling like lightning, powerful nearly as the earth itself. My raven hair flowed upwards in the power. My obsidian eyes showed all that was within me, became windows into a soul previously closed off.

The floor beneath me shattered as I lunged at him, grinning. He was afraid. Bloodshot eyes widened as I approached him, revealing his fear to the terrified priests scattered throughout the dimly lit room. They looked on amazed from their dingy corners, somehow not at all finding any sort of pleasant emotion in knowing their Naidisian was fulfilling their wishes as they gawked.

I was, after all, attempting to destroy their Lord. I was trying for the first time to steal the flame of life from Chaos, monarch of Nihrathi, the land composed of the majority of the plant known as Earth. I was, however, about to fail. Maybe…maybe they knew. Maybe, for once those idiots knew something I did not. No, it is not at all possible. They were no more than sniveling idiots with no more purpose than to bring about Armageddon!

At the last instant before I made contact with him, Chaos lifted his left hand. I filed that away: 'Chaos is left handed.' His hand emitted a power so much greater than mine that I actually almost felt what most would call fear. Almost.

I once again collided with the hard, cement floor, but this time I stayed there, weakened both by the use of untamed power, and by the blow of greater power. From what truly was a high seat above all others, including me, he sneered. Burning hate filled his gaze as he stared down at me. "What is this?" He struck me with his foot, sending pain through my ribs.

No one moved, the priests barely even shivered or cowered they were so afraid. They had been caught.

"No answer? Does no one answer me?"

One of them, robed in black and wearing a large gold medallion engraved with a pair of wings, stepped forward. "M-m-meh…My Lord…this is an anomaly. He…he somehow did not become as he was meant to be. We recently came to suspect that he was given the soul of one who would…"

"Who would what?"

"One who would wish destruction of your holiness!" The man cried out, stepping back into the corner he had come out of.

Chaos smirked. "He'll fail." The scattered priest all nodded profusely. "You had his paternal guardian father another child?"

"Y-y-…yes, sire." The robed man stuttered.

"Good. Next time, rather than being baptized in a mother's blood or drinking the blood of a father, he will be the one to slay and eat the heart of a sibling." More nodding. "When he has lived fore a whole of seventeen years, I'll return." Again, they nodded.

A burst of flame signaled his leaving. I was less disappointed that time. I stumbled to my feet, bloodied and damaged. Somehow, I felt far more alive when nearly dead than I had throughout the entirety of my life beforehand. They stared amazed that I was still capable of movement. They thought I would have stood if I were able to; they had trained me that way, made me that way. But I was far more than they had ever thought, and I knew when to back down. My eyes, once more blank, turned to them, found the man in the medallion. I smirked. "You're a good liar." I spoke, slightly amused.

The priests stood gawking at me. Not one of them had ever heard me speak in a tone that was not dead, flat, uncaring. I saved my other voice for Tenna-sensei. They had finally seen a glimpse of what hid beneath the mask I wore over my thoughts. I don't think they liked it. After all…

I wasn't supposed to be human.

Three

~~~~

I try to cry out, only to find I can't. Not only because I have no voice, not only because my throat feels as though it has been ripped out, torn the shreds, and then shoved back in with the expectation that I will still be able to use it, but, rather, because I do not know how.

~~~~

They locked me into a room I had not visited since I was no more than an infant. The strange aura not quite like that of the winged man still flowed throughout it, but stronger than before. It held a power beyond that which I had remembered it having. I could almost see it if I forced my self to stare at a wall, or any other blank space in the room.

Besides that, the room was just as I had remembered it: dark, little larger than the ritual room, and looking as though it had not been visited for quite a number of years. Reflecting on my last visit to this particular room, I found I could remember nothing what had happened after being placed in it.

I assumed I had simply fallen asleep. That is what infants do, right? They sleep. I chose to investigate the small room since I was obviously going to be stuck there a while. Looking around I found very little. There was a small mirror, a bed, which had replaced the crib from years earlier, and a small shelf filled with books.

I pulled down one of the books out of curiosity. I found the front cover to be on the wrong side; it was on the right instead of the left. That made no sense, but I opened the book anyway. Inside it was filled with captivating pictures and strange symbols, which were obviously meant to be words of some kind. The book was old, and unreadable, so I replaced it and pulled out another one. This one appeared to be a normal book, but the words on the back were so much more amazing than those that I'd seen on books previously that I knew it as well was different.

Looking through as many of the books as I could, I found the all to be ancient. I soon realized they must be books from the time before Chaos. Books from before Nihrathi. Books…books that were forbidden.

I found my hand almost of it's own will moving towards a book I had already set aside as being not worth my time. The cover said something about a Dictionary. I already knew my vocabulary well, so I didn't see why I should look.

Despite my logic, I opened to book. I repeatedly saw words I'd never known before, or had somehow known how to use but had not understood. I was flipping through the J's when something made me stop. I scanned the page and found myself staring at a word with a definition as confusing as the word itself.

Some might think I was undereducated if they hadn't seen the word. If I had simply walked up to someone and said, "I saw this three letter word in the dictionary, but I don't know what it means." They would laugh at me.

At least, they would laugh until I told them what it was. After that, they would stop. They'd stop because…because the word "joy" could not be found in any other dictionary in all of Nihrathi.

I sat for a long time thinking, reading the definition, and wondering why we would let so many words disappear. Why would we let such simple words disappear? I couldn't make any sense of it until I thought of Chaos.

Chaos ruled everything of Nihrathi, and had left the rest of Earth in ruins. He didn't want people to have what this dictionary called "hope". He didn't even want them…us to know what it was. He took all words that were…the opposite of bad, angry, sad, broken…and other such words, and erased them from our history.

I fumed in the dark little room, and as I fumed, the aura became stronger and stronger. Eventually three men entered the room. They filed in slowly and stood near the door even after closing it behind them. "Naid?" one whispered as another said "Rei?"

Somehow this didn't seem odd to me, and for a second I almost felt that I was called by both those names, but I didn't get much time to think that over. The world went black and by the time I woke, I was in a fairly lit room with a little girl poking my arm repeatedly.

Four

~~~~

Sharp, shining steel digs its way smoothly into my flesh. It burns and freezes my skin simultaneously as it refuses to leave. Another blade, this one faster, makes its way deep into my arm. Flames seem to lick at my body as a third finds it's way through the bars before me. Somehow through all this, I kneel quietly, expressionless. This only brings the pain to me even more.

~~~~

"Hello?" A high-pitched voice spoke to me from the mouth of the poking little girl. "You're Naid, right?"

I looked at her for a few seconds before answering. "Yes."

She nearly flinched at the coldness of my voice, but instead showed her teeth in a very non-violent way that only children could manage and said, "I'm Aya! I'm this many!" She held up five fingers to indicate her age. "How many are you?"

"Eleven."

"Wow! You're old!" She sounded amazed that a person could live so long.

"Not really."

"I know!" She moved up and down still showing her teeth in that odd way. What was it called again? I had read it in the dictionary just that night…grinning! That was it. Aya was grinning. "Daddy!" She squealed as Tenna entered the room carrying a toddler.

"Hello, Aya." Tenna curved his lips upwards in a pale imitation of Aya's grin. "Naid, this is your little brother, Tai." I stared at the little boy. He had blonde hair (I guessed that was from his mother), but he had the black eyes from my father. They looked odd on him.

"You should say hi." Aya chimed in.

I shot her a glare, but she ignored me. I looked back to Tenna and Tai. "Hi…"

Tenna smiled. "See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

"I guess not."

"Ha!" the little girl, whose violet eyes were by that time shining, pronounced triumphantly. "It was…erm…blank!"

Tenna looked…amused. "She does that a lot. Don't mind it."

I looked at him with slight confusion. "You don't find it odd that she can think of no opposite for bad?"

"Kids…" Tenna mumbled. "Of course not."

I looked more confused and even cocked my head. "Why?"

"Because, Naid." Tenna said, obviously thinking I should have known this already, "There's no such thing as an opposite for bad."

I shook my head as he left with Tai. Aya looked up at me. "You know too?" She asked. "I thought I was the only one." She sounded so much older than before when she said that, that I actually allowed my eyes to widen and my barrier to fall slightly.

"So did I." As an afterthought I added. "Aya-chan."

She grinned at me. "What is the opposite of bad, Naid?

"I curled the edges of my mouth slightly. "The opposite of bad is…good."

"Good?"

I hadn't found that word in the dictionary (I must have passed it). Instead I…instead I somehow knew it. Instinctively my mind set 'bad' and 'good' beside 'light' and 'dark'. Somehow I knew that 'bad' could be 'evil' as well. "Yes…good."

Aya resumed her mindless bouncing and even dared to ask me to join her. I replied coldly, but stayed and watched her strange bouncing and spinning movements. It reminded me of the word I'd seen last night. It reminded me of 'joy'.

Tenna returned later to tell me it was time for my class with him. He handed me a piece of paper and a pencil. All he said was "Write poetry." My teacher then sat on the floor and waited for me to come up with something.

For a great many minutes I simply stared at the paper. Then, as if on its own, the pencil began to form words on the paper. They formed in my mind and appeared before me almost simultaneously.

When I had finished I handed Tenna the paper. He read it aloud, almost not believing I had written it.

"A fallen star, a broken wing
To broken shreds of life I cling

Light is fading ever more
Shadows deep within my core

A fallen star, a shredded soul
My sanity the Darkness stole

Running, running ever more
Fallen now unto my floor

A fallen star, my light no more
A fantasy of myth and lore"

I sat staring at him, wondering why he was behaving so strangely. "Hn…?"

"I'd almost given up on you Naid. But somehow you managed to write this!" Man, was he…blank…

"Uh…okay…" I said confused. "Can I go now?"

"No."

"What?"

"You finally write something that actually shows that you indeed are human, and then you leave? I don't think so, mister!"

"Yea…but I…do."

"Uh…" He looked at his watch. "Fine, but only because Dreken would kill me if I kept you any longer." Dreken, my weapons teacher, really would kill Tenna if he kept me late.

"Hn." I stood and walked wordlessly through the door.

"Oh! Come back here after your classes though you and Tai are gonna be livin' with us since your dad died."

"Kay." I continued on to Dreken's class.

After my classes I returned to Tenna's house where I met his wife, Nara. She had golden hair like Aya, but her eyes were green and dull. Aya's light only seemed to live in two pairs of eyes. Aya's and Tenna's. Maybe it was the color. Violet was a very rare color for anything; it was a miracle that either, much less both, of them had such rare eyes. Then again, they'd probably hold the same light even if they were green.

Aya and Tenna had something neither understood, something that was believed to have been stamped out of humanity long ago. It was called 'hope'.