The embers billowed up into the air. An intense flame giving them greater numbers. It was a grand light show. Three people stood once on the battlefield. Now there was only one and ashes scattered in the breeze.
From the bushes he watched. He stared in horror as the wind took away everything. The fire subsided. Smoke blocked the sun. An eerie shadow cast itself over everything. Through it all he was terrified. Through it all he was enraged. He fled.
He could no longer call this place home. His soul had been clouded over. He needed someplace new. Someplace darker. Someplace more hollow, like himself.
He would strengthen himself. He would rise against them. He would tear them apart leaving nothing spared. He would make them know their mistakes.
He went to a dark world. They welcomed him. They sensed a power that was greater than their enemies. As his power grew, his lust for death grew. His power grew. No one could stand near, those that did did not have time to regret it. With this power he would rain down death and destruction over all that he despised. He returned.
He walked in. His power emanated and stopped everyone in their tracks. His dark power striking fear into all who managed to lay eyes upon him. This made him joy, an evil, malicious joy. He would rid those who caused him pain and kill all who tried to stop him.
He reached the center. Thirteen stood before him. They were prepared to kill him. He laughed inside, like dust in the wind they were to him. He looked upon them as prey and he the predator. They leapt upon him, a futile attempt at survival. He laid waste to their very being. It was as if they were not there. By the end, they were merely dust, not even. He had erased their very being with his sheer strength.
Others tried to avenge their leader, the strongest came upon him in fury and left as the rest had, as nothing. All else ran away, trying to preserve their lives. He let them be, they would not try to come after him. He could feel their fear.
He returned to his own land. A place he ruled over as king. He was feared by all. He was the strongest of the realms.
But he was still empty. Alone. Something was still missing. It may seem strange for someone like him to feel such emotions. But it is the nature of humans to desire someone else.
His search took him beyond his world. To a place where people were truly alive. He found the one. The one that filled him, that gave him that someone else.
She was graceful in all that she did. No one would say she wasn't. He wouldn't allow anyone to say otherwise. His love for her truly ran deep. And she knew this and loved him just the same. She knew that there was good in him. She tried to bring the light out of the darkness. While she could never erase the darkness from his soul she did her best. She did better than anyone at covering it up. She was the one. She was perfect for him. They married.
Time went on. She travelled back and forth between the realms, protecting others as she should. He never went with her. His anger still festered deep within him, stoking the fire of hate and loathing that he had for that place. If he were to return, that place would shortly cease to exist.
Despite the distance that frequently was put between them they had children. Rarely did such an event happen between two of their type but they did, four of them: three girls and a boy. They both loved them all fervently. It was love that could not be expressed through words.
As time went on the children grew up, as they do. They raised them to the best of their ability but, in the end, they chose their own paths. Some chose the brighter path, others followed in the shadow of their father, not evil, but a hating nature.
The span of time does not cover solely one story, one life. Thousands of stories exist together in the same timeline, weaving into and out of each other. There is always another story to be told.
Back in the land of souls, another series of events took place after the deaths of their leaders. The entire realm went into a time of instability, people blaming others for what had transpired. Fights broke out frequently and everything was on the verge of collapse. A war between each division was in the horizon. A fight for power, a fight out of fear.
Amidst the unrest another figure rose and took hold of the chains of war, restraining them from breaking. He was a strong warrior that quickly gained the trust and respect of the other warriors. He was gladly proclaimed the new head leader. He subsequently appointed twelve others to control the other divisions. A survivor from that day, he was seen as a miracle worker, though very little did he do to acquire such a title. Peace was restored, as much as possible anyways.
He worked to rebuild what was lost: comradery, trust, faith. All of which had been lost after that fateful day. The warriors became stronger than ever thought possible. From the ashes of the fallen he grew a bountiful garden, a task that few believed was possible before he came. Many proclaimed his lead to be a blessing and that day was, as well, a blessing in disguise. But he knew what it meant; it meant the beginning.
He lived his life as the other one did. He found his other and they loved each other greatly. They had one child, a son. His other joined him in the ranks under him. To help him when he needed it. They balanced their work as leaders and as parents. Doing both jobs to the best of their ability. They were happy.
But, as stated before, stories tend to get interwoven and these stories are no exception. Throughout each story they have crossed paths at points. Two different lives, two different stories, one reality.
Though this story is unlike those told before, there has never been a time when there has been one way a story can go, sometimes one thing can change everything, like that day.
Dakumasuta and Sosomo, these are the stories that have been told. These are the stories that will be told. Follow their lives and see a new take on this reality.