Riplette Ändern's Story

The scenery passes as the carriage steadily heads for Ailyn. Riplette was returning from a political meeting as a fill in for her father and was about 50 miles away from the island when all of a sudden a boom shook the ground. Riplette was lifted off of her seat and she struggled to keep from falling as the carriage stopped abruptly. She bit her lip and when the carriage came to a halt stepped out of the carriage, ignoring her chauffeur calling her to come back inside. Her long black hair flowed with the wind, and she looked up in disbelief. She was mesmerized by it, and it seemed to pull her towards it. The dark hollow void already had a monster, clawing its way out for destruction.

At that moment, a presence was felt in Riplette's head. It was that presence, the same one she felt three days before. It appeared while she was swimming in a river. The current became stronger than she expected, and she had to fight hard against it. That was when that presence was felt. Riplette managed to get to land, and as she did, a blue light swirled, almost danced around her. It settled and wrapped her ankles, leaving intricate markings. And right at this moment, she could feel the markings in a way respond to the demon. It was as if it was calling her, the demons. Riplette had no thought prior to what she would say, like she was subconsciously told to utter the words. But while Riplette stared at the dark arms reaching out of the cracks, Riplette uttered the word.

"Kyuun."

Riplette had not moved an inch. Her calm and blank face had very well hidden the turmoil that was occurring in her mind. How she had wanted to get back into the carriage and flee to her home in Ailyn, to snuggle serenely in her chair with a cup of tea and a novel. But she stayed rooted to the ground by an unexplainable force, no, it was not a force. Her mind was wanting one thing but her body wants another. The large dragon-like creature had disappeared back into the hole, but only to have a swarm of disgusting beasts attack instead. Riplette could feel fear daring to break onto her surface, but something held it down with sheer force.

Her chauffeur was starting to get very irritating; he had been yelling at Riplette to get back into the carriage nonstop all the while being frozen and unmoving from his own seat. Concentrating all of her focus, Riplette turned her head sharply toward the carriage and willed the horses to begin riding away. The chauffeur's calls died away as he rode off into the distance. Now that was over, there was another problem. Cries could be heard from behind her, and when she looked over to the village merely meters away, she could see it. The Imps have already begun their rampage, and the air was quickly filled with screams of fear and pain. There were mixed feelings here; Riplette had the option to run away and get attacked by an imp, or run to the village and try to help and still get attacked. Either way, she was probably going to die, so she might as well die morally good.

Riplette ran towards the screams of the people, avoiding the Imps along the way. She stopped just short, however, overwhelmed by the strong stench of blood. She could hear something dripping, and she turned slowly around, only to find an Imp with fresh blood dripping from its teeth. Cursing silently in her mind, Riplette backed away slowly, unsure whether or not running away would just quicken the killing process. She stepped back again, and felt the texture underneath her boots change. She looked down to see a puddle, and as soon as she looked up the Imp came for her. In desperation, Riplette swiped her hands in front of her in a weak attempt to keep the creature away from her. She expected that her life would end there, but the monster had not touched her, though she could feel its warm breath right near her. She opened her eyes and right before her was the Imp, unmoving and lifeless. Coming from its chest was a shard of ice which rose from the area. On the ground where there was a puddle. Frozen in disbelief, she was brought back to reality when a more vicious looking monster appeared.

Riplette had no more than five breaths of rest before she had began running away. She did not want to face it. All of her "bravery" had left her and now all she wants to do is drink tea. She wants to relax and swim in her pool. The monster came from the air and landed right in front of Riplette, and she assumed that it had jumped all the way from where it was last standing. She stared helplessly at its long claws and stumbled backwards. It ends here, she thought.

Listen to it. Riplette heard the voice in her head. It was that of a male, deep yet smooth. It flowed like water. Listen to it running underneath you.

Riplette had no idea of what was going on in her head, but she nodded and tried to calm down. Looking at the horrid creature in front of her did not help, so she closed her eyes. She could hear it. It was flowing, dripping, and being absorbed by the soil.

Now use it. It is your weapon.

Obeying the voice in her head, she focused on the water deep in the island. The monster was getting closer and she could feel the heat, and she was loosing her cool. Right when the demon had strike, Riplette opened her eyes and swiftly raised her arms, sending jets of water raising from underneath to the monster. It made a cry and dissolved into tiny little particles. Adrenaline now coursing through her, Riplette acknowledged her newfound abilities with a bit of confidence as she raced back towards the village. She attacked with water while running, spinning to dodge their attacks and gracefully moving through obstacles. Her face had stayed calm through it all.

As she finished off yet another Imp, a golden beam caught Riplette's eye. It was enchanting and seemed to be calling her towards it. Go to it. Again, the voice was heard. Riplette was grateful for the voice's guidance and obeyed, running towards the beam. But she had been following him without even knowing what he was.

Who are you? How are you doing this? Riplette asked in her mind.
I am Aquarion, god of water, ice, and mysteries. I have chosen you to become my eye.

Riplette wanted to ask why Aquarion has chosen her, but she supposed she was already satisfied with his answer. She had finally reached the beam, and to her surprise it was coming from a boy around her age who lay on the ground. Riplette studied the boy and shook her head in confusion. What was he doing...?

Clear as glass, Riplette said, "You shouldn't be lying here defenseless..." What was he doing? He was practically acting as bait. Behind her Riplette could hear monsters coming for them. There was probably around nine of them.

Aquarion spoke. Arborius.

(Edited:)
Lucien ran into gamblers row "grab weapons quickly or run there's like twenty of them behind me". It looked bad the people that didn't run or freeze, manly had sticks, a few pistols, and knifes. Lucky for him the gambler street had the white wyverns gang as the loan sharks and they were good at magic, in a minute it was over the imps had all been killed and they had only lost one man because his pistol had exploded. As they celebrated they suddenly heard laughing and they looked at the roofs they saw imps all around. Lucian yelled " anyone who prefers magic in the middle anyone else surround them, head to market street we need to save the blacksmith, alchemist, and the witch that grow plants, quickly" suddenly a golden pillar appeared "go there it's more important you go there then the market " Agatheon said. "new plan, half and half, I'll take the pillar" of the sixty following the him only fifteen followed him, thirty five went toward the market, the other headed for the path out of town.

When they got there to the pillar they saw two people, he assumed that the boy had killed the imps while protecting his girlfriend, and had burned all his magic out, but there was no time because some imps had come out from the side street. they made short work of the group of imps he told the men following him, "I'll carry the boy, lets head through the town square that the fastest way to market street, girl follow us or not, but were leaving" and they ran. as he ran through the streets he thought about the money the city guard took from the gamblers to not shut it all down, they had seen more hiding guards then dead ones, but when they got there he regretted that because the captain and some of his men were fighting and was had body’s all around them and the other guy wasn't bad either, but by this time his fifteen was down to six "here come backup, who had thought the guard and the scum fighting together".

Blackness.
Warm and fuzzy and quite nice, really, he thought. Maybe he could just lie here for a while...
If only that incessant noise would quit clawing at his eardrums. It was just on the edge of hearing, as though someone was calling out to him from very, very far away.
Oh, make it stop. It was rather pleasant to just lie here in his nothing box. No sight. No feeling. No sound. Except, of course, for that little far-away call. Shut up, will you! But it wouldn't. Fine, then... he tried to make his eyes open. It was amazing, how hard it was when you actually had to try...
Light!
Argh, too bright! The millisecond his eyes had been open had blinded him. Ow... yeah, he'd stay here a little longer...
Okay, boring.
Light!
No, sleep!
Light! Dim light!
Darkness, nothing box...
Light! A black blur on the edge of vision!
Darkness...
Light! A gaping maw of sharp, bloody teeth!
Darkness...
Light, damn it!
Darkness... wait, what?

Kederath's eyes flew open and he bolted up. He found a pretty, in his opinion, girl staring at him. About fiver feet behind her an imp was tied tightly by vines So tightly infact that it had suffocated. He looked around at all of the Kyuun that had been turned into gold. "Did I do this...?" He rhetorically asked.
Yes, came an answer in his head.
"Hi..." He said to the girl, unable to think of anything else. He had also woken up before Lucien had gotten to him. He wouldn't allow himself to be carried and dodged him when he went to pick him up.

The village was a mess, to say the least. It was encouraging, however, to see several civilians fighting back; easily defeating the weaker demons. Cray had found it surprisingly easy to reach the village, his "friends" didn't dare let any of the putrid creatures touch their master. That said, the boy had quickened his pace. The rising stench of fresh blood mad him yearn to vomit where he was standing. His mouth firmly clamped together, Cray carefully stepped over the grisly carcasses before quickly fleeing to one of the small empty houses; not daring to look back.

He slammed the door behind him, sliding down the rotting wood as he fought to keep his breath under control. What was there to do? He knew something had changed about him ever since the Harvester ants had attacked him, his entire body was vibrating with a new-found power. The boy had suddenly gained the ability to communicate with insects - which was quite frankly. splendid to know - but was that it? He had already done what he could do with this new skill by summoning all of the arthropods within this area to help. Cray, on all fours, crawled towards the open window and peeked out. What a sight to behold. However, what seemed to catch his attention was the boy lying down in the middle. The child's eyebrows rose, as a beam of golden light burst from his chest. He lifted his chin as this light shot upwards into the sky and through the clouds. Not only that, but this radiation of magic made any demon around the stranger turn into solid gold.

What a nifty skill. Thought Cray, before sitting down; his back against the mud-packed wall.
After about a minute of negotiation with himself, the boy decided to summon Alfar. Maybe he would know what exactly was going on.
Alfar? Are you there? He called, hoping for a quick answer. Sure enough, he saw an ant - the colour of crimson - scuttle out from underneath a crack in the door and approach Cray.
Yes, sir? Said Alfar.
Thank you for coming, Alfar. Do you happen to know what is going on? He replied, gazing down at the minuscule character.
A short pause came after, Cray could sense this feeling of confusion emit from the ant.
I assumed Chitin had told you, sir.
Now it was Cray's turn to be confused.
Chitin? You mean the God?
Just then, the child heard a small giggle from inside his head; disturbing his thoughts.
Took your time, didn't you?

Cray had politely dismissed Alfar with a nod and thank you, who rushed back out of the crack in the door, leaving him alone with the new individual.
You are Chitin?
Smart lad, that's what I like about ya!
Now, when Cray had thought of a God, he certainly wasn't expecting this. Chitin spoke with the pitched squeak of a young boy who had yet to touch puberty, and yet the God spoke with a hint of humour you would expect from an immature adult.
It was fun watching you figure out things about yourself. You deserve a pat on the back, learning how to talk to them ants and all. But I guess you can't pull this kind of information from your bum, know what I mean? He then laughed, presumably from his own joke.
If you say so.
Lighten up, lad. You should be celebrating! Think about it, you got chosen by the almighty Chitin! Lord of Pestilence and Arthropods! Some peoples would be begging for your paw-si-shun!
I don't think it's an appropriate time to be celebrating. Cray felt vaguely annoyed that Chitin was acting light-hearted of the situation while a wall of blood-soaked corpses rose outside.
Ah, right, right. If you want to be so darn serious, let's get down to business then. What do you want to ask of me?
The boy hesitated. Because of the lack of time, he believed it would be best if he asked one - the most useful - question now and left the others to ask later on. That is, if there was a later on for him.
Quick, what powers do I have?
Keen child, now we're talking! You've already figure one out, now have you considered actual magic? You saw that boy's firework display outside, am I right?
Of course! Cray knew the practice of magic still continued to this very day but there were no traces of it in his village, the people preferred to fight with natural materials instead of "witchcraft". He took another quick peek outside through the window, the gold beam had gone but the stranger was still there. It looked like two other people had approached him and woke him up.
It'll take a long time explaining everything to you now, by then you would most certainly be dead. However, I guarantee you'll find all the Latin gibberish inside of you, somewhere; you are intelligent.
Wait, what? Was that it? Surely he wasn't going to leave him with only that, without even a plausible hint?
Huh?
Stop your worrying, lad! But for now, farewell~! Chitin made a great deal about his leave, a loud woosh could be heard before Cray's mind became eerily silent.

Cray sighed. Chitin had talked about "latin gibberish" before he left. Did this mean, there was this storage of divine words in his brain somewhere? Cray shut his eyes, trying to nitpick through all the unnecessary information, trying to fish out phrases he had most likely never heard of before. Suddenly, a blindingly white explosion appeared behind his eyelids. The boy heard a faint bingo! echo inside his mind. He felt an unfamiliar wave of confidence flush through him, as he slipped out the house and onto the battlefield. He stiffly lifted his arms from his sides - so they were in front of him - and spread open his hands, directed towards a group of the imps. They immediately jerked their ugly heads in his direction, sensing a dangerous threat.
"Ultionem Culex," breathed Cray. He grew aware of a pool of warmth in the centre of his palms. The boy did not anticipate the short eruption of the thousands upon thousands of mosquitoes that rocketed from his small hands towards the demons. The sheer impact forced the creatures backwards, blindly swiping off the insects. The poison in these mosquitoes were far more powerful than normal ones upon observation, within seconds the demons were covered head to toe in swellings. The insects backed away, as one by one the demons fell to the ground; clearly out cold. Cray repeated the magical words a few times before a path was cleared towards the group of three in the middle.

Kederath was amazed at the new guy who had appearently shot misquitos out of his palms. He looked to his left.
"Oh shit..." Was all he managed before a group of around ten Shadow Walkers pounced at him. "Protegat!" He yelled. "Protegat, protegat, protegat!" He yelled over and over until a wall, no a dome, of wood burst up from the ground just big enough for himself, Cray, and Riplette. But it was just wood and the Shadow Walkers broke through it easily. He pointed at a Shadow Walker and muttered "Pugnare" then swept his hand across the group advacing towards him. The first Shadow Walker turned at the group. Kederath had muttered 'Fight'. Instantly chaos insued; the Shadow Walker broke out in battle, a loud howl was heard from outside the dome, then another sonic boom echoed throughout Airl. All of the Kyuun dropped dead, all of them.
Kederath blinked. "What the hell just happened?"
Arborius took her time before responding; she knew the other Gods would as well. Child, Aborius started, the Kyuun are creatures of the night. They don't fight well during the day, like morning and sunset. Noon just approached. No Kyuun will appear until seven o' clock, exactly.
Wait, wait, wait, who are you? What are Kyuun? What? Kederath asked annoyed.
I am Arborius, the Goddess who chose you as my Eye, my pupil. You will learn my path, as these other godlings in this dome are learning a different God or Goddess's way. For your second question; Kyuun are these demons you've been fighting. They are here to wipe out mankind and throw everything into Chaos. The purpose of us Gods to chose an Eye is to keep Order among this Chaos. It's confusing, I know. But for now you are safe, find the other Eyes and gather up the villagers before seven or there will be mass carnage. Chaos of propotions you've never seen. This battle was the Kyuun at their weakest. In the morning and the afternoon the Kyuun can't see well because of the sun. It clouds their minds and their judgement. There will be another battle like this at sunset but when night falls...
Agatheon protect us all... Was all Kederath said in reply.

Christine ha slept through everything. She awoke when that last boom went off, killing all the Kyuun and signalling noon.
"What the hell?" She asked, and got out of bed. She walked straight outside, and she was only dressed in a red bra, red panties, and red shorts. She was going red today. That's beside the point, though, she walked outside to see a wooden dome, partially broken, with a few people standing either inside or out. Then she saw the dead bodies of the Kyuun. She had hard the story of the gods and the Kyuun and she believed it. Now she knew; it was happening again! But these people were different... They didn't seem human, or atleast not fully human. They radiated power unlike a Kyuun and unlike a magician. She walked up to the group of people, still lightly dressed,
"Hey! What um... What happened?" She asked.

Lucien saw Christine come into the town square, he had only met her once before when she had made his knife. He called her over to a group he had gathered consisting of him, the guard captain, he had also called the four suspicious characters, because they had something about them. He asked Christine “did the group of fighters we sent make it to your shop, can you still forge weapons, and do you know if the alchemist and the witch survived the fight?” after he finished his questions he moved on to next useful person, the bug kid, “boy, I would usually tell someone your age that they should be hiding with their mother, but you seem relatively useful so what can you do, can use those bugs to scout the city, carry messages, or spy, if you can’t do any of that than your useless to me.” He quickly looked over at the couple “boy, you have a noble for a girlfriend, must be because you turning things to gold will make her rich, and you girl why is a noble here, I would of thought that you would run at the first sign of trouble. Other than magic do you have anything else that will help us, when these things return?” He then turned to the nomad, looked at him for a minute, then turned to the captain “Captain, you’ve played me in chess before you know that I’m a good strategist, I’m going to plan the defense.” He turned to the others “unless someone else wants to plan the defense, and get us killed because they think they’re smarter than then Lucien Drogo, the masked gambler who has only lost three times in chess and has won over a hundred gold in his eight year gambling career.” Before anyone could answer he continued, giving a nasty look any anyone who had open their mouth to speak “No one, well I’m shutting up now, either answer my questions, give me a useful info, or go help anyone who needs it.”

Ezall had met up with a group of survivors, a peculiar group, in the midst of a ring of gold turned demons. The most distinctive character was the girl with brown hair that was half-naked in vermillion colored under garments. Ezall grinned without showing any teeth, but his eyes darted from person to person.

There was a boy, fairly younger than him, with greenish blue hair, and green eyes who seemed to be exhausted by over exertion. Standing beside him was a girl with striking blue hair and blue eyes that had a look of innocence and nobility. Beside her was a younger boy, with black hair, and black eyes, a certain pestilence swirled around him. It seemed as if the eye and hair color of those three matched, strangely. Then there were other survivors, and another man whose face was hidden behind a beaked mask. Oddities seemed to stick to this group like pock marks, but Ezall decided he wasn’t one to call them odd. Perhaps they were the other mortals Azreal spoke of.

The fact that the fellow named Lucien Drogo merely glanced at him without barking unsavory words with that sharp tongue of his meant that they were on fairly good terms. Not that it mattered to Ezall, nor any of this. A part of him wished to aid the beleaguered people, but he felt detached about this. Nowhere in his heart did he have what would be called compassion, or if he had it, it was buried for the time being.

However, Lucien seemed like the kind of person that could turn ugly with a flip of the switch. Ezall wondered if there was a possibility that they would have to continue working with this mad man.

“He…is Lord Agatheon’s chosen,” Azreal returned to him after remaining silent for some time, “I understand. However, Agatheon knows what he chose. This mortal embodies the traits which he has been seeking for one who should walk his Path.”

“No, unfortunately, I am not allowed to reveal the sands of time to any mortal; you're an exception, but not yet,” Ezall realized that Azreal was reading his thoughts and intercepting them with his own responses. At least he didn’t have to muse to himself out load before everyone and be seen as an insane person.

“For the time being, worry about staying alive,” and that was it. The voice vanished, Ezall did not know when Azreal would return again, if he planned on returning at all.

He touted his sharpened stick and trailed off in search of any other survivors, leaving behind the gathered group as they plotted their next moves.

The small village was a tatter, the mark of destruction was imprinted as clear as day on everything and everyone there. Ezall saw a small child, bruised, and battered. It was pulling on something, flesh. Flesh of a larger figure, a figure that had already left this world. It was the child’s mother, she had been among the first to be killed when the demonic creatures poured from the sky. She had tried to protect her children, in essence, putting her life on the line. The little girl had mud on her face, and several cuts and lacerations on her arms.

She was tugging at her mother to wake up.

It was hard for Ezall to swallow, elsewhere he saw an old man limping, with the support of a crutch. He limped very slowly, trudging along the ruined streets. The survivors, were far and few. Most had attempted to leave town, only to be swallowed by the scourge.

Ezall walked up to the girl who was beside her mother’s corpse and sheathed his sharpened stick. The girl’s eyes were wide, wondering who he was, and what he was going to do. She had fear in her bones, for a child to witness such destruction first hand would be scarring to the psychological balance that was developing within her mind.

He picked her up, and held her gently as he could. He had never held a child before, this was a first. Ezall thought the child would struggle and resist his attempts to aid her. She did not. He held her, and she clung onto him fiercely. Some invisible aura about him allowed the child to trust him entirely, so she did not resist. She merely closed her eyes to the world that she once knew.

Ezall approached the old man.

“It was...” the old man paused as he looked to Ezall.

“Horrific creatures coming out of the maelstrom in the sky,” the old man was trembling as he said this. He had a white beard and hair covered his head like duck fluff. A single tear streaked down the side of his face, as he surveyed the surrounding area. Ruins, nothing but ruins, no homes, no families. The place was a wasteland, it seemed ghostly, as the corpses laid on the ground motionlessly.

“Come with me,” Ezall beckoned to the old man. He was about ready to leave this forsaken place.

The three arrived at the domed structure where the other survivors that Ezall linked up with were staying. The group wasn’t too large, nor too small. Lucien was planning with the guard Captain, while the blue-haired girl was sitting beside the green-haired boy who looked much more composed after some rest. The black haired boy, was sprawled on the ground by a spider’s nest.

Other survivors were resting among on the floor, others on cots, others sat against the walls with melancholic expressions.

They still had a one or two hours till the hoard attacked, but Lucien had come up with a plan, so called back the others. “I think our best chance is to divide into 5 groups tonight and tomorrow we break into 2 groups, but I’ll get to that later. We have about a hundred and twenty able body fighters, about fifty of those are mages and twenty of those aren’t hand to hand fighters. We have three mages, one warrior and me a support. Best guess I believe you four are Eyes like me, I’m guessing the five that are here are Arborius,” looking at a teen that he had found at the pillar of light “Chitin,” looking at the kid who used bugs “I’m Agatheon, I’m guessing your Aquarion because the magic you used” looking at the girl “and truthfully I’m not sure about you.” looking at the vagabond “I’ll take thirty-two of the men, you all can take twenty two each, and the reason I get more then you is that I have little hand to hand combat ability, and no battle magic that doesn’t render me useless after one spell. All the fighting should be close to Main Square. Whoever survives the night we take with us to the closest city, but the majorly wounded, useless women, young children, and cowards need to start now, otherwise they will need to hide in the basements of taverns. Ut consilia esse fecundae, ut die benedicentur" and collapsed on one knee “I’ve done all I can I blessed this plan, now let me rest for tonight. One last thing, Arborius’s and Aquarion’s Eyes, neither of you refuted my couple comment earlier; I would bet that you become a couple before I die.

With that said, the Eye of Agatheon weaved his spell before the group, and fell to his knee, weakened by the surge of his efforts. The other Eyes looked at each other, dumbfounded. They were merely kids, not really used to commanding people. Then again, neither was Ezall, who unsheathed his stick, and marshaled his twenty. He selected mainly fighters, with a few mages.

"Alright then, let's head to the main square," Ezall said solemnly, urging the other Eyes. He, with a group of twenty, led the townspeople directly to the square, some were armed with meek weapons, such as sticks and metal bars. They compensated such weak and dull weaponry with athletic physical forms, the trait that allowed them to survive the first wave of demons. The second wave, however, was bound to be fiercer, and they would no doubt wreak havoc on these prepared people.

Ezall walked forth, undaunted. The others looked at each other, unsure whether or not their leader wanted to commit suicide. They had had their first taste of demons, and barely survived by the skin of their teeth. However, seeing him stand alone in the midst of the square, gave them a small ounce of courage. Here was a nomad, one who did not live in their community, risking his life, to save the lives of those he did not know. Ezall hoped that he could inspire some confidence in the people to fight for their lives. He looked at each of them, some had a scowl on their face, masking the horror which lay beneath. Others, assumed characters. One fellow, looked like that of a drunken brawler. His back was arched, his fists hanging downward, and his face was dry. He seemed to be at the very end of his rope. Ezall could count on him to fight for his own survival.

Lucien was rallying his troops when the god’s voice rang through his head, he turned to look at the other eyes and heard the god say something about seeing other frequencies, suddenly everything changed and where he had saw the kid and the two love birds (they still hadn’t refuted that point) he saw a blue haired boy, an man barely covered in seaweed, and a woman in a green dress. His head hurt after that, but what happened next was a little worse Agatheon spoke up next “You really think seeing these forms are useful well I’ll bestow something I’ve already bestowed on my own Eye, the humans you lead will get something like a boost in fighting ability, at least that will give you a little more power tonight.”
He saw the peddler come into town, and after the peddler stopped talking with the captain, Lucien walked over to him and told him he could protect the rear because with his cart he could block the inn we had placed any noncombatants till the morning, also asking how much money he would need after this fight if they survived.