A Tideborn Story

The Waves of Fate and the Dream of One

Can you really hate perfection when it is all you crave?

Don't be such a hypocrite.

Your time will come.

They called it the "Perfect World".

But how could something so perfect be rotting to its core with malice?

I can no longer see perfection; it is but a fleeting dream in the quest for survival.

Everything is a lie…

(Why?)

Honesty doesn't exist.

Friendship is meaningless.

Hate is pure.

(How?)

Love is tainted.

Life is without originality.

Death is without an enemy.

I am without feeling.

(Hollow.)

It is what it is.

I am what I am.

Nothing can change.

(But.)

Nothing can stay the same.

Nothing is everything.

(And.)

Everything is mine.

Explain to me your "Perfect World".

It is a delusion of the hopeful who do not belong.

(No.)

I am right and you are wrong.

You are weak but I am strong.

I can change reality into your delusion.

Enter my dominion and become one with the malice for it is the only way to destroy it.

Prologue of War, The Suffering of One

Gone. A life that just won't heal. Locked away.

Two red eyes shining in the twilight. A dark blue and purple sky dotted with stars, glimmering, allowing a dim light to illuminate the situation. Dead. They were all dead, these creatures, whatever they were. Blood stained the land and tainted the shimmering orange glow from the two overly-large daggers that were being grasped tightly by two, also blood-stained, hands.

Tears rolling down two dirtied cheeks, soil, blood and the vapour that hung strong in the air covered the skin, a perfect home ruined, all the residents dead, except for one; the one who was standing amidst all the death and destruction. This was the life destined for those who know not of Pan Gu, the creator, although it was through no fault of their own, this race was doomed, at least it seemed that way. This was always how it turned out, no warning, no defence, no escape.

A skirmishing crew from the Nightspike had come again tonight, ransacked, raided and utterly destroyed the home of this single Tideborn assassin. A fire burned weakly in the background, but she couldn't even tell that was the building she had once called her home, her husband and child were probably somewhere among the wreckage but she couldn't bring herself to look.

A movement. Within seconds the woman had yanked the body up from the ground and pinned it against one of the giant mushrooms which dotted the landscape, seemingly a replacement for all human-known shrubbery. It was one of those creatures, the Nightspike, she felt disgusted just touching it. Cough, splutter. This Nightspike was barely alive and had a few seconds left at best, and with that it let out a victorious growl before its body went limp and lifeless.

A sharp, stinging pain began to grow from the female assassin's stomach, she went to grasp at her stomach but was surprised to find she could not reach that area. A foreign object, sharp and long with a sort of black smoke radiating from it, a Nightspike weapon. Just as soon as she realised what had happened it had gone. Turning around to get a grip on her surroundings she saw, at least five more Nightspike standing in front of her, evil smirks painted across their dirtied faces. Without a sound the woman dropped to the ground, clutching her stomach, the Nightspike walking away with loud cackles and war cries couldn't care less about these people anymore tonight.

Looking back towards the remains of her house the woman was horrified, through her blurred vision she could see, clearly, her daughter walking towards her, hand pressed tightly over her right eye, tears of blood trickling down her face. She tried to speak to her daughter but no words could be formed, no sound could be made, only a smile, a smile was all she could manage to try and comfort her child.

Several hours passed before a relief squad arrived with medical supplies and reinforcements but it was too late, the village was no more, the lone survivor a little girl tightly clutching her mother's hand. There was nothing anyone could do at this point, the girl was taken along with the body of her mother to the Elder of the Tideborn race in the City of Raging Tides. There he (the Elder) and his best apothecary examined the young girl, although she would live, bruises, cuts and broken bones are easily fixable, there was a bigger problem. Her right eye had been crushed when her house caved in on her during the Nightspike assault she would live the rest of her life with the use of only one eye but telling the girl that on this night would have most likely killed her so they waited overnight. Or at least they were supposed to, once the apothecary had headed home the Elder walked into the room where the girl was sleeping a restless sleep. She awoke to him patting her head and smiling warmly a while passed and the two had walked a few levels below the main temple in the capital city, arriving at a dark medical room, in which lay the body of the girl's mother.

She knew the risks but it was the only way she felt she could continue on living, an old forbidden operation in which the eyes of the dead are transplanted into the living, forbidden for good reason, all who had received this treatment had lost their mind and given into an impure emotion, although no one knew exactly what happened, every single patient had experienced episodes of extreme rage and, in some cases, seemingly demonic powers which all ended with the individual committing mass murder to anyone and everyone they saw with those eyes. A few hours later the girl woke up back in the room she was assigned to the night before with a white medical eyepatch covering her right eye and a searing pain travelling from the back of her head to the tip of her right eye.

"A red and green eye shining in the twilight. They'll be the last thing you see… At least that's how the legend goes, right Dieter?"

"…Whatever you say, Yumi." Dieter nonchalantly replied, a somewhat short response after Yumi had recounted a delightfully scarring story to his Cleric friend. "Anyway we don't have time for this, dummy, we have to get going to Plume, it was your idea to start on this magnificent journey to protect the world from the wraiths and signed up to help with the Elder, we'll be late!" he continued.

"Ah, you worry too much Dieter. Errand boys don't have a set schedule; we'll get there when we get there." Yumi, the carefree archer stretched and mentally prepared himself for the day.