Writing speed: snail
Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Porto, Portugal
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Re: Naruto Fan Fiction Thread!!
Links to Chapter 0: 1st
Links to Chapter 1: 1st
Link to the map
The Gorgon Sisters' Theme: Camille Saint-Saëns' The Fossils (9th movement of "Le Carnaval des Animaux")
Shiroi Kiba's Theme: Björk's Thunderbolt (Live from Manchester version)
Shiroi Kiba vs Jacob Theme: Chris Cornell's You Know My Name
Mikmereth Headquarters Theme: Nobuo Uematsu's SeeD
Esau's Theme: Björk's Solstice
Miburo's Theme: Jeremy Soule's Sovngarde
Iemitsu's Theme: Ikue Asazaki's Obokuri Eeumi
High Temple of Tav's Theme: Björk's Dark Matter
Shin, the Judge of Æons' Theme: Hitoshi Sakimoto's Esper Battle
The Sundering/Quake's Theme: Hitoshi Sakimoto's Esper
Ietsuna's Theme: Nobuo Uematsu's Fragments of Memories
The Aftermath' Theme: Amália Rodrigues' Gaivota
Prologue (Part 3 of 3)
The Plains of Forbidden Sights, near Mikmereth, Land of Marduk
Hundredth First Day of Pisces, The Fall
Sathariel: My people!
Standing on a balcony on the top of the headquarters, accompanied by the Qliphoth generals, Isaac, Esau and Cathariel, Sathariel screams to rally 160 units of 2 million Daemon that almost disappear into the horizon.
Sathariel: Beth of the Word said that the Malakeben emanated the Divine Light of Tav and we, Daemon, were the husks of the land where the Divine Light shines on. The light shines to shun the shadows, but when I see Eretsaphir drowned in shadows, I must ask: does the light not shine or does the land refuse to be lit? Only one side of the dichotomy is true and the land is not to blame! What to do with the light that doesn’t shine? If the light loses its shine, what else will shine on us? As the light that shines on the land reserves our unconditional faith, the light that doesn’t shine at all only deserves our spite. So what must we do, lowly husks of the land? Well, the husks and the light share two properties: they surround what is good and keep it away from corruption. I am not a fool, I know that there are husks already corrupted by the shadows and even those which brew shadows within them instead of good, but is the function of the light to restrain them from corrupting others. Considering the light doesn’t shine, isn’t it corrupted too? And as we throw away the husks that are corrupted, so we must throw away the light that is corrupted. The Malakeben might be our creators, but they clearly have been corrupted by their own sense of grandiose. And we, the Daemon, will knock the Malakeben down and prove that they are the true Divine Light. We’ll no longer be the Qliphoth, “the husks” who receive the Light, we’ll be the Sephiroth, “the emanations” of the Light!
Excited cries propagate through the ranks, much to the joy of Sathariel.
Isaac: Magnificent speech, melech. Fitting of the last of the race of the “bringers of light”.
Sathariel: Let’s hope it won’t fall victim to the cruel grasp or irony. Generals, be at the front lines in fifteen minutes. Warn the colonels and majors in charge of units to be there. Isaac, Esau, Cathariel, take care of the headquarters while we’re away.
Thamiel: Sure thing, melech.
Isaac: As you please, melech.
Fourteen minutes later, a stampede of more than a thousand hooves sounds the departure of the harras of sleipnir, eight-legged steeds of the Land of Forseti, gray as the rocky fjords that limit the pastures they graze, orange as their bewildered mane. Running at a velocity of 88 kilometers per hour, they quickly send the unit leaders riding them into the front lines. There, Sathariel raises his arm and quickly points forward, declaring the beginning of the march of his army into their last residence.
Inside the headquarters, on a private living room, Cathariel seats on an armchair while Esau helps Isaac seat on the sofa.
Isaac: Thank you, my son.
Esau seats next to his father, letting out a disappointed sigh before he stares at the ceiling.
Isaac: What’s the matter? You don’t seem well.
Esau: It’s just that… I wanted to go with them! So my sword would serve my melech!
Isaac: You know very well why you can’t go.
Esau: I know, but sometimes I dread the possibility of melech losing because I wasn’t there! If that were to happen, I couldn’t bear the crown with such guilt!
Cathariel: Either they win by a landslide or lose by a landslide, so you wouldn’t make the difference between victory and defeat.
Cathariel: Don’t you think I’d battle alongside my father if given the chance? But Eretsaphir is above our desires.
Esau sighs more frustratingly.
Isaac: Put your head to rest, my son. At least you want to serve higher purposes, unlike your brother.
Esau: Father, don’t worry yourself with Jacob, he probably doesn’t anyway.
Isaac: It’s easy for you to say, my son, you don’t have children of your own. Even if he abandoned the Ward of the Sword Saint, even if he abandoned us for years, he’s still my flesh and blood. If only I had a way to know where he is and what he’s doing and, more importantly, the why behind his desertion.
Miburo, on the northern slope of the Yamakujira, near Nagasukujira, Land of Izanami
Crowning the south of the Land of Izanami, Yamakujira is the only volcano in all of Eretsaphir and, while eruptions are an extremely rare event, it’s still active with magma circulating in its core and emanating sulfurous gases on the forsaken western slope. Nagasukujira, the capital of the Land of Izanami, lies in the fertile soils found in the south and is habited by more than half a million people. The eastern slope is marked by basalt beaches and the northern slope is marked by dark fields of basalt with some green of persistent oaks sprinkling in the midst. It is unknown if Yamakujira was named after the razorback whales that pass by the nearby shore or by the wild boars that are seen munching on the acorns the mountain provides, but either way it definitely marks the landscape as the biggest solitary mountainous formation, passing with ease the six kilometer height mark.
On the northern slope, secluded from the rest of the populace, lies a forge that uses the natural heat emanating from Yamakujira to produce Darksteel, a special kind of steel known to being able to harness and cut through elemental spells. The forge is named Miburo, “the forge of the martial body”, alluding the brawny orc operating it for 30 years. Such is the mystery around the orc that even he adopted the name of the forge, making many people suspect he left Sathariel Lucifer’s empire to be forgotten. What many don’t know is that he was once a Qliphoth general that fell from grace after attempting against his emperor’s life. What led him to such act, nobody but him knows.
After dropping an heated sword in fresh water in order to temper it, Miburo gently rubs his right eye, the only that still can see, but suddenly stops. There’s someone in the forge with him.
Voice: Miburo, isn’t it?!
Miburo: You speak the language of the Empire but you have no discernable accent. That tells me you’re one of two things: either you’re a scholar of scripture who took the dumb turn the way home or you’re an assassin.
Jacob shows himself to Miburo.
Jacob: Your wits are as sharp as the stories around you told. I’m Jacob Alastor.
Jacob extends his hand to be left with no response. He slowly moves it back.
Miburo: And I’m a smith, so, unless you want a weapon, get the fuck out of my forge.
Jacob: What I want isn’t a weapon, it’s a way into Iemitsu’s court.
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