Speed - Galaxy ~~ Grand Re-Opening!

[The Host]

 The gray coloured deamon launched himself forwards, his claws extending to cut right through Crioone's hide. But just as he neared the silver and blue coloured deamon, Crioone whipped around, the glowing gem protruding into the gray coloured deamon's skin, causing him to cry out in pain. Somehow, throughout the whole attack and fall of her teammates, Crioone had still been able to sence the deamon's approach and attack.
 The gray deamon howled in pain, his hand clutching his chest where the gem had torn the skin open.
 "How... how did you know..." the gray deamon gasped, his lifetime almost up. Crioone looked at him with hatred in her eyes, the normally calm deamon now in a state of fury and rage. Crioone's foot moved forwards, her claws extending. Picking up the gray deamon, Crioone's claws pierced the deamon's skin once more, and then, with her second foot, she reached deep within the deamon's body, moving her claws around, searching for an object.
 "The sixth sense is a wonderfull thing. Sometimes, it can be used for evil, while at others, it can cause great actions of benevolence. At this time, I have been watching you for three hours. You have something in you. If you died on your mission, nothing would go wrong. But your masters were wrong. They don't know the full extent to my powers. No one does, and no one ever will. It is your time to die, and my time to take the object from your dead body..." Crioone's hand jerked backwards, the grey deamon slumping into an odd position and staying there, frozen in death.
 Crioone stepped back, the object covered in bloodred lumps and liquid. Crioone turned around, facing her companions- who were still unmoving. Don't let them die... please, don't let them die... Crioone held her head up high, opening her mouth as wide as it would go. Throwing the bloodied object into the air and letting it drop down into her mouth, Crioone spread her wings far apart, swallowing, and lifted herself up, taking to the air, and crashing through the low rock cieling. The sunlight shone through the hole, and as Crioone dove back into the fortress to recover her companions, not a single being in the world would see her. She had entered the realm of the unknown, the lost map trail would lead her and her companions onwards, deeper into the fortress of history. This was just a small resting point, completely oblivious to all outsiders...

[The Host]

Interlude Three
Exaltoskull's Story

 From the slowly dissipating fog approached a deamon clad in a dark cape, hiding the completely white body inside, keeping the hunt leader hidden from all intruding eyes. The dog-like deamon -now completely in the control of the Attalna, and more so, by the hunt leader himself- moved backwards, away from Exaltoskull, and towards his master.
 "Exaltoskull... your time has come... to die..." the hunt leader proclaimed, his dark cape now thrown to the ground, his white coloured body an eerie glow in the dark fog consumed night.
 Exaltoskull fell to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head. The hunt was over...

[The Host]

Chapter Three
The Scripter

 History of a Kingdom...Part Two

...

 -the dawn of sacrifice. Three millenia later, the deamons were seen once more by the dull fading eyes of the mages and magicians of Terra Eterna. The only living beings that could withstand the great fall witnessed the deamons return to life. The deamon lords and masters arose, their gargantuan bodies overturning mountains and emptying oceans. The mages and magicians could only watch in horror, their powers only strong enough to set up gates that would prevent any more deamons from entering the dying planet.
 In only months, the planet known as Terra Eterna was shattered. The deamons, saw the destruction they had caused, and also that the people on that planet could not be ruled. The deamons left Terra Eterna, leaving the destroyed and desolate planet to die.
 But Terra Eterna did not die. After the exodus of the deamons, the mages and magicians joined their powers, sacrificing themselves to bring  back into being the ultimate creation. True humans.

...

 The man cloaked in a dark red outfit turned his face towards the man slumped in the corner. Pointing the shiny metalic object in his hand towards the man, his finger slipped backwards, the dying man's face struck backwards, blood slowly trickling down his chin and onto his old tattered robe. The man in dark red turned backwards, his hand grabbing the pen once more, and putting it down to the piece of parchment.

Note: if my death may come, this manuscript has been written by-

...

[The Host]

 History of a kingdom...Part Three

...

 -Hawk, deamon captive, chronicler of all deamon events up to the present.

...

 Hawk looked up at the cieling, his thoughts now clouded and unsure of what to write next. The man's eyes closed, his breathing slowed down, his hand moving in circles over the page, the pen not quite touching the paper.
 A winged deamon flew down from the rafters above Hawk, landing beside the man- who didn't seem to notice. The deamon, roughly the same size as Hawk, raised both of his clawed hands, grabbing Hawk's head and squeezing until blood showed. Hawk screeched in pain, and as his hands went up to try to shake the deamon away, he fell back, a loud crack sounded out as the wood below him splintered. The deamon broke away from Hawk, its hands sealing the wounds as it moved back.
 "You've stopped working- my precious slave writer- and with that comes great punishment," said the deamon to Hawk, his face obviously displeased. Hawk stared back, his eyes going wide. Punishment was not a good thing, and it always created great pain. Almost deathlike pain.
 "I... I stopped an attacker today... doesn't... doesn't that count for... any...thing?..." stammered Hawk, his eyes shaking in fear. The deamon looked at him for a while, uncetain of what to say. Pondering for a bit, the deamon floated into the air, his hands moving around as if organising an imaginary collection of photos.
 "Hmm... if what you say is true... I shall spare you the true punishment, and give you one far less... painful..." Hawk looked at his master, the fear slowly fading from his face.
 "Yes... anything is better... than the true punishment..." Hawk said, practically begging for anything else. The deamon eyed him coldly, than raised a hand out towards Hawk, a small eyeball like creature forming in his hand.
 "As I'm sure you know, this is an Attalna, a deamon with its eye set on hunting to kill. Follow this deamon to a place called the Eterna Peninsula. There you will need to seek out a quite annoying deamon, one with his eyes set out to finish the hunters off forever. Your mission is to kill him." The deamon turned around and began heading towards the doorway at the end of the small room.
 Hawk's eyes followed him all the way to the door. He had survived one more day, but his journey would now lead him into danger- fighting any deamon with only human abilities was near impossible. But as Hawk watched the white coloured deamon leave, he was only glad that  the true punishment had not been given. Because fighting the white coloured deamon's dog was a deathmatch...

***

 ... The Attalna floated away... The dog turned its back... The white coloured deamon dissapeared into the darkness... The deamon lying on the floor dissapeared, still very much alive... The hunt leader growled in hatred...

[The Host]

 Metawar

 Crioone raised her head, looking around at the seemingly large open space around her. The crumbling rocks and dry sandy ground looked the same as everywhere else on the deamon's home planet, and yet, it looked strange and different to her, as if it was not naturally like this because of the Attalna, but staged like this as a horrible reminder. Crioone crained her neck to the side, trying to avoid eye contact with the disturbing ground, and found herself looking at a large towering wall, erected alone, as if to block something from her sight. Since Taverna and Nara were still lying on the ground, their breathing slow and unchanging, Crioone began to head for the lonely wall.
 Only a few paces into her destination, Crioone turned back. Looking at her companions lying on the ground, her eyes saddened, and she flew back to them. Upon landing, Nara's head turned to the side, her mouth slowly opening.
 "Wha...?" Nara's voice was shallow and hoarse, her quiet rasping voice showing a lot of pain. Crioone immediately dropped to the ground, looking at Nara.
 "Nara... I'm so sorry that..." But Crioone wasn't able to finish her sentence, as Nara began to rise to her feet, her face detremined, and the look of 'it's not your fault' in her eyes. Once she was standing, Nara spread her wings, wincing as they moved further apart.
 "Nara... don't hurt..." But once again Crioone was stopped, and as Nara began to rise into the air, Crioone's face began to grow less sad. Slowly at first, Nara flew forwards and back, trying to ease the great pain. But her wings were still distorted in form, and her flying wouldn't be nearly as good for quite a while. Crioone watched her, and as their were now two of them able to move, it would to be time continue onwards further into the fortress, or leave and return at another time. Crioone spread her wings, pushing down and soaring up to meet with Nara.
 "So... what do we do now...?" Crioone looked at Nara for an answer. Nara shook her head.
 "Taverna would want us to continue, but in a situation like this, we need to go back. We don't stand a chance if we get into another fight. We'd lose for sure." Nara turned to face Crioone, and Crioone nodded.
 "I'll take Taverna, you concentrate on not getting more hurt," said Crioone, and as one, the two deamons flew down to the ground, Crioone picking up Taverna, Nara retrieving the remainder of their tools and the map. Returning to the hole Crioone had made, both deamons dropped down and began their journey to the exit of Metawar...

***

 Hawk looked around the area he was now seeing. Having been brought into this world blinded and basically dead, he had never seen the outside world before, and as he looked around, he was amazed and disgusted by what he saw. The rolling hills and valleys were brown and gray, the bare rocks long ago burnt of whatever once grew upon them. The last remaining soil was dry and baked, and would never grow any sort of vegetation again. The trees that lay on their sides were torn apart and chared to the core in someplaces, and the wind that wistled throughout the region gave an awful wining sound. Their were no deamons visble in this area, only large caves that dotted the mountainsides for miles.
 The Attalna residing in Hawk's tattered pocket hovered out, the eyeball like deamon moving forwards at a slow pace. Hawk began to follow it, pulling a small map encrusted in dust from ages of non use. Unfolding the map, Hawk located his master's cavern, and traced a line with his finger over to Eterna Peninsula. The map had no legend, so there was no way of telling how far away his destination was. The Attalna leading Hawk flew back, leeching onto the distant human with vampiric teeth, causing Hawk to cry out in pain. Then the Attalna spoke:
 "Stop fooling around human, and get going!" although it was not the voice of an Attalna, as they have no voice. It was his master, and when the white coloured deamon gave an order, it was meant to be followed.
 Hawk swallowed, then nodded, and together, human and Attalna, the two began their journey towards the Eterna Peninsula...
 

[The Host]

 ...I am The Scripter... as one of the only humans to ever enter the world of the deadly beings known as deamons, it has become my duty to write and record all of the history of the deamons. I have given my work the title: History of a Kingdom. The deamons will rise into power again, and only the fallen mages and the true souled deamons will be able to fight back. I am calling on the magicians of Terra Eterna, the sages of Area Distortia, and of the free living deamons to come to me and release me from my imprisonment. If you wish to help me, do so soon...
 
 The Attalna following Hawk slowed its pace as if sensing something, but Hawk's minimal powers were able to block the telepathy. As the Attalna came up close to Hawk, the human chose his time to strike.
 "Others are coming, and you pose a threat to them. This planet... no, this world is coming to an end under Axerion's rule. I will terminate you here and now, and the beginning of a new era shall soon arise! Aghhhh!" ... ... ... ...

... ... Wha...what... happened... ... ... ...

 Bellcast is my name... though you've seen me before, you didn't know me truly... You have betrayed my orders Hawk... and for this, your death shall be one that is most painful... ...


 Tearing one's soul is probably the hardest thing to do as a mage... but I've succeeded. My body may be worthless, but I have survived, though barely... The meeting point is... Eterna Peninsula... ...

[The Host]

Interlude Four
Exaltoskull's Story

 Death is a horrible thing. Some embrace it, while others reject it completely. My name is Exaltoskull. I reject death, almost daily. Fighting the Attalna is one of the hardest things to do, and fighting their leader is an even worse death penalty. And so, with these final words... ...

 "Hey... hey you... are you? ... dead... ?"

 What's this... someone who's come to ensure my death... what do you... what do you want...?"

 The deamon called Exaltoskull closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting apart. As he shifted away from the deamon world into his own dark world, his body dragged across the rough ground, the small forest area in the middle of the swamp he was in nearing as the small green deamon pulled him along. The mysterious forest of Eterna Peninsula loomed ahead, the dark fog and low hanging branches hiding the many paths that Exaltoskull would soon be dragged over...

[The Host]

Chapter Four
Death's Face

 Axerion looked through the small holes in Metawar's fortress walls. The two flying deamons trying to escape his palace would find that doing so was harder than they thought. Because when a fortress came to life right into your face, escape would become the last thing on you mind.
 Behind Axerion, six of the seven Deamon Lords surveyed the scene along with their king. And one by one, they began to leave the king's presence.
 "We will meet here two weeks from now, when the sun is at its brightest, and the night hunters have retreated. For now, survey the rebels from your towers. Do not interfere with their plans, but find out as much as possible. The seventh lord is away at the moment, do not seek him out. If you do not listen... ... you will die!" Axerion turned backwards, facing away from his warlords. "Begone," were his final words, and as his mouth closed, the throne room became empty, everyone was gone...

***

 Crioone dipped low, avoiding yet another wall slid into her way. Nara narrowly avoided the wall, but instead of dipping, she dropped, stopped flying completely, letting herself touch the ground. Running along close behind Crioone and the unconscious Taverna, Nara called out, "What the heck's going on? The walls are... alive...!"
 Crioone flew down closer to her, and began to reply , just as a wall threw itself up underneath them.
 "What the- " Nara said, before her instinct took over, and she took to the air.
 "The fortress... someone's controlling it... they know of our presence... we need to..."
 "Shut up! you really are dumb aren't you? It's been me all along, and now I'm taking you out with me... so Crioone... die!"
 Crioone's wings snapped back against her back, causing her to fall towards the ground. Somehow, she managed to keep hold of Taverna, but it was all she could to. The punch from Nara had hurt, though not as much as she'd expected. Then came the second blow. Nara's fists flew forwards, grabbing Crioone and holding her up just long enough for the next wall to throw itself at the two of them.
 It happened quickly, the wall came crashing down. Crioone screamed. Nara let go of Crioone, but it was too late. The wall hit them both, delivering a swift but effective blow to the three deamons. Nara cried out in pain, but it was much to late. The wall crashed into the ground, and as it did so, a cloud of dust erupted all around them, silencing Crioone's last scream...

[The Host]

 ..."What the hell just happened!?! Where am I?" Crioone looked around, taking in the scene surrounding her in all at once. The darkness was dimly lit in the four corners by small torches. Crioone found herself able to stand, but the feeling was gone from her legs. Next to her, groaning in pain, was Taverna. Now awake, the green deamon warrior slowly began to stand, but found himself falling back after each try.
 "Taverna... stop... just rest..." Taverna faced Crioone, then nodded. 
 "I remember... Nara's betrayal... ... but why? Why would she do that?" Crioone looked at Taverna, then shrugged, softly moaning in pain. Taverna lay down, his wings bending back at an odd angle. Crioone watched Taverna for a while, then slowly move towards the corner of the room.
 "Where's Nara... she got hit too... she should be here too..." Crioone looked for Taverna for a reply, but Taverna was out cold once again, the pain having come back. Crioone faded out of reality...

[The Host]

 The room holding Taverna and Crioone blasted open as the fierce deamon warrior punched his way out. Taverna's emerald coloured hands were a dark shade of navy blue, the colour of deamon blood. Behind him, Crioone bursted out, map and other tools held on her back in a bag of poor condition. Taverna knelt on the ground, his body exhausted from the small amount of energy he had only seconds ago used. Crioone rushed up to him, but Taverna held her back.
 "I'm... fine for..." said Taverna, slowly getting back up, "But where... are we...?"
 "You're in the world of Mitora, the space in between the world of the living and dead." The voice came from a small deamon to Crioone's right. "To explain it in all truth, you almost died, along with your companion. The two of you blacked out, but your souls had been torn almost completely apart, to the point where they were mere strings, instead of the healthy circle of life. You were forced to the area of the afterlife, but the souls weren't fully ready to deaprt the living. Therefore, you wer put in Mitora. You have looked at what the dead look at each day, yet you were not forced to experience it. Having broken out of the Kodri, or cell of devastation, you have succeeded in temporarily repairing your soul. But to completely repair your soul, as well as your body, you must return to the world of the living.
 Breaking out of the Kodri was the first step towards life. Fighting your way out of Mitora is the second. And the last step towards complete soul restructure is leaving the place of darkness from where you were transported here. After that, you should have a full recovery...
 But if you fail to leave Mitora in two nightfalls, you will forever live in the land of the dead." The small deamon turned away from Crioone and Taverna, leaving a small shadow as their only company. "Farewell Crioone of Extapolis and Taverna of Renkapolis... and as I know you wish to know, my name will soon be revealed to you, and my appearence is only a small disguise. You will come to know my true identity when the time is right. For now though, you have only so many hours left to escape, I won't bother you with any more talk." And with his final words, the deamon crept away, his shadow dissapearing completely, leaving Crioone and Taverna alone in the land of Mitora...

 "So what now?" asked Taverna, "How do we leave this place?" Taverna looked around, as did Crioone. There was no apparent escape, and the light of the day was slowly fading. Crioone's wings bent out, lifting her off of the ground, and Taverna followed.
 "The exit should be somewhere out of our line of vision. We somehow ended up in here, so there must be a gate or tear in this place showing where we came in. We just need to find it..."

[The Host]

 The cold cell holding a red deamon creaked as the metal bars bent apart, the deamon's fist clenched around the iron, her determination easily seen. Escape was necessary if she was to stop her former comrades. Nothing mattered more to her than stopping the plan. And so therefore, there was nothing able to stop her from leaving at that time and place. The shattered cell lay on the ground, ready to be devoured by the darkness of nightfall while the red coloured deamon flew off into the night, the blue blood dripping slowly down the sides of the broken bars...


 Mitora extended much further than either Taverna or Crioone had expected. The mountainous landscape combined with stale air and rolling sand and dust made an environnement that slowly took the life out of you, and in a place like this, losing the little amount of life that remained was not a good thing.
 After topping the latest mountain, Crioone paused for a moment, resting her four legs atop the peak of the mountain while Taverna dropped to the ground, kneeling once more. Crioone pulled the bag off of her back, spilling the contents out onto the mountain, looking for anything useful.
 "Find anything?" asked Taverna, looing at the objects that spilled from the bag. Crioone shook her head, her two forelegs reefing through the objects faster than Taverna could keep track of. Finally, she came to the gem and map, the last things that might have been helpful. But neither proved to be of any use, as the map remained a map, and the dimly glowing gem didn't shine any brighter.
 Crioone stuffed the objects back into the bag, putting it back onto her shoulder blades and flying into the air. Taverna followed, but his normal bravado was gone, and for one of the first times, Taverna seemed concerned that they would not succeed this time.
 Once in the air, Crioone headed for the next mountain chain, and as Taverna followed her, both deamons wondered wether or not they would ever escape from the place known as Mitora...

[The Host]

 The long peninsula of rock and sand extended far into the distance. After crossing many mountains and passing over multiple valleys, Taverna and Crioone had arrived at the end of the point of land. The large sea looked seemingly endless, and the peninsula that jutted out into the sea looked eerie and deadly. Taverna and Crioone touched down to the ground, surveying the landmass ahead of them.
 "If this doesn't lead back to the fortress and our world, I'm not sure if we'll be alive for much longer," said Crioone, out of breath and almost out of hope. Taverna nodded solemly, his eyes on the ground.
 "We need to get to the end of the peninsula, and hope that the answers and the way back to our world is there," replied Taverna, and both deamons continued their journey to the end of the landmass.



 Hawk shuddered in the harsh cold temperatures of the Expansion Desert. The land was covered in sand and rocks, and the fridgid temperatures made it even worse. Far off in the distance, Hawk could see a small patch of dull green, a sure sign of the northwestern marsh. Beyond that lay Hawks destination. He had to make it. The deamon world, as well as his own depended on his success. The Eterna Peninsula was the ultimate destination...

[The Host]

Interlude Five
Exaltoskull's Story

 "Where... where am I?" shouted Exaltoskull, his surroundings a mere blur to his squinted and scratched up eyes. Unbenounced to him, surrounding Exaltoskull was the Forest of the Sacred Ones, the only true remaining forested area on the mainland.
 "You've been brought to... my council, Exaltoskull. Your beliefs and actions have come to my attention, as well as that of many others, and I have brought you here to help you fulfill your destiny. The only thing is..." the small green deamon paused, looking away from Exaltoskull for a moment.
 "What is the only thing?" asked Exaltoskull, his eyes trained and focussed on the deamon next to him while the rest of his vision remained blurred.
 "I must take away your soul... and let you become a reaper of the night... a Deamon Shadow..."

... ... ...

[The Host]

Chapter Five
The Rift

 A large circular design was etched into the ground at the end of the peninsula. Surrounding the pattern were seven stones erected in such a way as to form a kind of hut, each stone leaning in towards the center of the circle. Crioone and Taverna stepped carefully around the mysterious looking shape, not sure of what it was. But they were certain of one thing: the markings were not natural, nor did they fit into the rest of the landmass.
 The waves hitting the peninsula splashed upwards towards the two deamons, the blue-grey water landing on the ground, then receeding back towards the ocean.
 "So what now?..." Crioone turned back to come face to face with an old face.
 A large sized deamon stood behind Crioone and Taverna, his face full of wisdom. Although his physical appearence and size had changed, the face of the small deamon of Mitora remained the same.
 "What are you-?" Taverna exclaimed.
 "Your time is almost up, Taverna the emerald and Crioone the blue. What you see before you is known as the circle of space. Stepping into it will open a window in time and space, allowing you to return to your own world. This rift will appear at the end of the peninsula, and will stay for only a few seconds after you leave the circle. Concentrate your whole willpower on the rift to hold it for as long as possible, and get into it. Once in the rift, you will go unconscious for as long as it takes to get back to your world. Your thoughts before and after your get into the rift must be one and the same: your destination. If they are not powerful and true, your lives will be taken, and your life will end in the rift. You knwo have only little time to remove yourselves from Mitora, as well as your next destination. Now go... you have used enough time." The deamon moved back from Crioone and Taverna, letting them step forwards towards the circle of space. As soon as Crioone's foot touched the circle, the mysterious deamon was gone, leaving Crioone, Taverna and the rift the only things left in their states of mind...

[The Host]

 A wide circular window like field of energy came into being only a few feet from Crioone and Taverna. The purple window slowly grew in size, until it was large enough to fit both Crioone and Taverna in at once, with space remaining. Then the energy of the window became a mass of swirling shades of purle, until it finally split into thousands of pieces, each one flowing apart from one another, until the window was no more. Then each piece dropped like a pebble into the endless ocean, the waters accepting each piece of the window with nothing more than a splash and a few ripples. But the area where the window had been was not empty. The circle of stones was erect vertically in the position of the former window, each rock jutting out towards the land. The ground with the circular images on it had also been moved, as well as the two deamons who had stood there before. And from the new position, the land of Mitora took a dive, the whole landmass turning ninety degrees so that the circles of stones stood upright. Through the hole that had been created by the dissapearence of the circle of stones shone a thin beam of light, the level of light constant, never dimming, never growing. Crioone and Taverna stood stalk still, awaiting the coming of the rift that would bring them back to Metawar. Each deamon thought of nothing but the rift and Metawar, and as the beam of light continued to shine constantly, multiple flashing lights sparked around the center beam. As the lights continued to flash, a sphere like object seemed to be forming itself inside of the hole, a semisphere on each side of the hole. The beam of light went out, as did all of the remaining light of Mitora, other than the flashing lights. The sphere became more and more visible, until finally it became a solid object. At this point, the ocean was raised up, the water leaking away into the ground and sky, leaving only small glistening shards of solidified energy. The broken window shards flew into the sky, then moved towards the sphere, covering the solid sphere until only one spot remained uncovered. The beam of light returned, shining through the last hole in the sphere, until the sphere exploded. Shards of energy flew out in all directions, and the world of Mitora suddenly moved back and forth at odd places, creating a hazy substance in the air. And then everything stopped moving. The light went out, leaving darkness to reign over the land. But as suddenly as it had happened, the light returned. White light shone throughout the whole region, blinding everyone who had had their eyes opened. Crioone and Taverna cried out in pain, then fell to the ground as the wolrd began to spin. All of the land became distorted, leaving noone to see the opening of the rift...

[The Host]

 ...A stone wall came into contact with the bodies of two deamons. Crioone's head slid to the side, hanging limply against a small stone on the ground. Taverna's body dropped to the ground, but was held up by the deamon's two powerful hands, which brought him to his feet. Reaching forwards, Taverna carefully grabbed Crioone, hauling her onto his back just after his wings spread wide apart, lifting the two deamons into the air, allowing them to begin to end their escape from Metawar...

***

 Nara slipped out of a shadow, her body visible for only a few seconds until she returned to the shadows. The distorted and demented deamon stood still, her body much different from the last time she had been seen by any other deamon. The old small red coloured body was now covered in spikes and her arms and legs were bent at odd angles that gave her a hunched and bent look. The skin was still red, but streaks of blue-black dried deamon blood were apparent all over her body.
 Moving in and out of the shadows of large trees and swirling sand, Nara continued on her way towards the south-eastern corner of the island. As she got further and further south, the trees began to thin, and the sand became ever more present.
 Only a few more days until I arrive... Thought Nara, then the answers to my questions will be mine, and the ability to stop my former comrades will be possible... only a bit further... only a few more days...

[The Host]

Interlude Six
Exaltoskull's Story

 ..."What?... A Deamon Shadow?... Those don't... exist, do they?" Stammered Exaloskull, his legs scratching the ground, his claws penetrating the soft ground of the Forest of the Sacred Ones.
 "Deamon Shadows do exist... although the success rate of creating one is so low that they are known as mythical deamon beings," replied the small green deamon.
 "So... you're telling me that if I want to eliminate the threat of the Attalna, I need to become a... Deamon Shadow... and that the most likely outcome of this process is me dieing?" questioned Exaltoskull, a frown coming onto his face.
 "Yes... so you'd better decide now: die fighting a lost cause... or die in the hopes of a future win..." The small green deamon turned his back to Exaltoskull, slowly moving away from the deamon warrior. Exaltoskull's gold and black hide slowly began to follow the mysterious deamon deeper into the forest, and with each step, the deamon warrior came closer and closer to his ultimate act...

[The Host]

Chapter Six
Seeking the Stars

 Nara's red wings folded outwards, thin blue lines of crusted blood forming stripes over the powerful appendages. The deamon's fierce blue eyes looked off into the distance at a square shaped object, her view partially obstructed by the swirling sand and dust that was being picked up by the gale force winds and the howling gusts. A streak of lightning lit up the dark sky for only a second, but it was enough to give Nara a clue as to where to head next to keep herself protected from the desert's demise.
 With her wings fully spread out, Nara shot forwards, propelled by the wind towards a rather large boulder, where her claws stuck deep within. As her wings folded back in, Nara carefully removed her hands from the rock, and took time to seek out her next destination. A loud cracking sound from the sky released a rolling thunderous noise, and as Nara crouched down low to protect herself from the wind.
 As the thunder subsided, the wind died down a bit too, but not enough to allow Nara to move forwards without knowledge of her destination. The dark sky was once again lit up, as lightning dance across the sky, illuminating the desert for quite sometime, allowing Nara to plan out many of her next moves.
 But as Nara darted forwards, the sky's resevoir was opened, and as the sky began to darken once more, the waters from above began to rain down upon the desert area occupied by Nara, and as the rare rainfall poured down, the sand became mud, and the mud began to slowly swallow the stones and boulders, allowing the fierce winds to reach their full strength and blow Nara down towards her destination, but also tearing her body to its extremes, causing every muscle in her body to experience extreme pain.
 And as suddenly as it had arrived, the rain stopped, allowing the mud to settle, and limp body of Nara to sink downwards...

[The Host]

 A red coloured hand slowly reached around for something to grab hold of in the middle of a scorching desert. The hand, leading back to an arm that snaked its way out of a crack in the ground, grabbed hold of the top of a stone that had also sunk into the silent sands of the desert, and as the muscles in the hand tensed, the body of a fierce red deamon erupted from the ground.
 As Nara slowly got her footing right, she began to search the barren landscape for a sign of her destination. Looking southwards, Nara's eyes focused towards a slight bump in the far distance.
 There! She thought, her legs already moving towards the point of land, her wings catching the wind and allowing her strides to become longer and more powerful. Finally, Nara's body left the ground, her powerful wings propelling her faster than most deamons could move towards the bump, which was now becoming more and more visible.
 Finally, after several hours of flight, the bump of land had taken its form, and as Nara came in for a steep dive, the massive tower that was Nara's destination became truly visible, and as Nara crashed into the ground beside the tower, the stars of the world beyond, as well as the answers she sought became ever closer to being discovered...

[The Host]

 Nara launched her fist at the wooden slates blocking the entrance to the large tower. As powerful fist met with weak and rotting wood, Nara's body followed her powerful attack straight through the barracade, finding herself in a dark room, full of space. As Nara's eyes adjusted to the dim light, objects formerly hidden by the darkness became visble to the female deamon, and as she began to look around more and more, she soon discovered what she sought.
 Moving slowly towards the end of the room, Nara kept careful watch of her surroundings. If her suspitions were right, she wouldn't be the only one seeking information at this place. Her only hope was that she would be the only one at this time. Upon arriving at the small stairway at the back of the room, Nara quickly climbed the old stairway, the wooden boards creaking and heaving with each step she took.
 Each step that Nara took brought her closer to her ultimate destination. As she reached the last level of stairway, Nara paused, her ears bending forwards to seek out any presence in the upper room. Creeping forwards at a pace so that no oen would hear her, Nara arrived at the final footing, planting herself firmly against the solid wooden floor. Keeping her eyes directed forwards and her claws out and ready to tear apart anyone who got in her way.
 Peering into the room ahead, Nara saw nothing upon first glance. But as she entered the room and looked out of the wide windows, she saw that her first glance had been wrong. Only fifty feet into the distance flew a lone deamon, his pale white wings easy to spot in the dark night sky. But as Nara watched, his body was slowly dissapearing, only to be covered by gray black blotches. And as the deamon continued to fly away, the small spots on him began to take on a certain form. And as Nara continued to look on in fear and amazement, she was greeted by a cruel smile on the white deamon's back. And as the smile began to move in what looked like a laugh, more spots appeared around the deamon, who had stopped moving and was only levitating in the night sky.
 The latest spots to appear on the skyline were a more white colour on the gray scale, and as they moved around, they began to form odd shapes, and as they all finally stopped moving, they were in a cloudy disperced formation. But as the cruel smile on the deamons back closed, the white spots moved as one, forming deamonic lettering in the sky.

B  E  L  L  C  A  S  T 

 Nara looked on in horror, but as soon as the lettering had formed it left. Gone was the mysterious deamon. Gone was the cruel smile. Gone were the letters. Gone was Bellcast...


 Nara shook her head, the thoughts slowly leaving her mind. But as hard as she tried, Nara could not rid the cruel smile and the name. Bellcast... Bellcast... Bellcast...
 The crimson coloured deamon moved backwards, away from the windows. The remainder of the dried blue blood that had caked itself upon Nara's body had cracked off, allowing new and fresh blood to take its place. But Nara had a task at hand, and no matter what had just happened, or what her body was doing now, none of it mattered. Dismissing all thoughts that were not on task, Nara moved swiftly towards the left side of the room, where a large mechanism stood facing into the outside world. Peering into it, Nara began to fumble with the small dials on the object's sides. Focussing in on the distant sky above, Nara's mind was completely taken over by the pitch black sky dotted with gleaming stars and spinning rocks. Seeking the areas beyond the stars and rocks, the dark spots, Nara's eyes began to take in information.
 Written in the darkness of the sky were words. Thousands. Millions. An infinite number that could never be truely read. These were the words of the past. The words of the present. The words of the future...

Sons of Darkness... Daughters of Light... The universe was opened upon your open hands and faces... And thus became the galaxies built upon your solid foundations...
 If you have sought the wisdom of the stars and beyond the universe is surely in peril... but is has all been written here... everything that was to happen, that is happening, and that shall happen...
 Upon the foundations of light and darkness was built the universe you now live upon... but there is more... Shadow, the sence of in between, that can only be created by light, but then creates darkness... this is what the world has become...
 
 Looking into the darkness, the elite ones pulled out a warrior by the name of Tyranac. Tyranac was the shadow, the only one to possess both light and dark within him. Upon bringing this warrior to life, the elites ones left Tyranac to the creation to the galaxies of the world. And as Tyranac worked longs days and nights, the world were soon created.
 Upon completing his job, Tyranac was sentenced to life on one of the worlds he had created. Choosing his favourite over the ones the elite ones had wished him to choose caused the land of Terra Eterna to be brought forth, leaving the land of Speed to be pushed back. Tyranac romed the land of Terra Eterna for many eternities, until finally the creation of sapient beings were brought forth. Then, Tyranac, a being of magical powers was pushed away into the land he had rejected years before.
 Living in Speed, the time he had been used to was gone, and the world he had been banished to tore him apart. His powers, his body, and his spirit were split into trillions of parts, until finally the speed of the new land could be handled by the individual parts of Tyranac.
 As the true Tyranac, the original one, began to get used to the new world he called Speed Galaxy, the other parts of him he had lost also began to take shape and live alongside him. But Tyranac could not stand to live with pieces of himself, and as the ultimate sacrifice, he seperated himself once more, creating a rift in time and space, and creating a new universe, called Mitora.
 In this world, Tyranac was the only inhabitant, but he soon became lonely, and although he hated to have his past selves be with him, he needed company. So Tyranac created death rifts, openings in the old world, Speed Galaxy, for those who were on the verge of dieing to come into to have the chance to be saved.
 And so the name Tyranac became a name known only in legend... until the next beings of magic came into being...

 50 000 years later...

 The age of Magicians, Mages, Sages, Dragons and Deamons came into being. These creatures, all with the amazing ability to use the magical pressure in the air to their own will.
 As the new world began to form full of magic, the age of conquest came... As worlds were brought together and torn apart, the magicians and the dragons came together in an ultimate force. Likewise, the Mages and Sages united, leaving the deamons to themselves. But this didn't stop a war from coming. The deamon wiped out half of the dragon race, as well as over eighty percent of the magicians, causing the mages and sages, a force that had stared as neutral to side with the dragons and magicians. But it was hopeless. The deamons, holding their own headquaters in Speed Galaxy were able to survive in the most dangerous areas, and as the United forces could not enter Speed Galaxy without significant death rates, the deamons continued their destruction of the universe. Until finally, the Seven Head Alliance came forth.
 Lead by Tiranes the magician, the Seven Head Alliance consisted of Tiranes, two sages, two mages, and two dragons, the Alliance was able to create an ultimate rift in time and space, restricting the deamons to their own confined world.
 As Tiranes and the rest of the Alliance returned to their respective worlds, the deamons began to plot their comeback... but that wouldn't happen for over 1000 years... and by then, the Seven Head Alliance would be all but gone...

1001 years later...

The age of renewal... The elite ones erased the beings of magic from the world, leaving only the deamons, who were restrited to their own world, and one of each remaining magical being left...


Present day... ... ...

The prophecy is wrong...



End of Part One, The Fortress