Hello everyone, and welcome to the first chapter of The Hour of Twilight Saga. For those of you that are unaware, this story takes place in an alternate universe of Remnant that differs vastly from the original. So that you are up to speed, I would highly recommend reading my prequel The Remnant Chronicles for the history of this AU. Now, on with the show!
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Chapter 1- The Feared Prophecy
Lightning blasted across the sunless sky of the Dragon Lands, followed swiftly by the dreaded rolling of Thunder. A thick blanket forever blotted the sky, a foul mixture of smoke and ash that threatened to choke those that dared fly high to greet it. The sun never showed its face in these lands, and on the rare occasions it does, it always comes in the form of fleeting rays that have little time to feed the plants below any light, the ferns and trees that had prospered once in ages past now nothing more but withered grey husks. A dark pool of water stood stagnant, no aquatic life whatsoever dwelling in the murky waters.
The dry shrubs suddenly shuffled to life as a creature lurched forward to slake its thirst at the pool. The creature was covered in shaggy black fur, save for plates of white bone like chitin on its head, and a perpetual darkness seemed to ooze off of it. Its eyes were amber, and its wolf like head was covered in red markings. It had dagger like teeth for tearing flesh, and razor sharp claws for disembowelling prey. It was a Beowolf, one of the dreaded Creatures of Grimm. And it was thirsty.
The Beowolf let out short hot breathes as it sniffed at the bank of the pool, before looking left and right. If it was to quench its thirst, it would prefer to not be disturbed by another Creature of Grimm or one of the savage Proto Drakes that were native to this land. Nor would it wish to be disturbed by one of the...newcomers to this world. The Beowolf proceeded to lower itself to the waters edge, its long red tongue lapping up the black water quickly.
As it drank, it suddenly raised itself, its triangular ears perking up and swerving left and right. There had been a sudden change in the wind, for it was now blowing slightly from the right in rhythmic beats. It turned and began to sniff the air. There was no scent it could catch. Slowly and warily, it lowered itself once again to drink, when once again it stood up and froze. A shrill roar, faint at first, echoed across the dry fields. Several seconds passed when the roar returned, this time far closer.
The Beowolf let out a savage bark as it turned tail and began to run. It was cruising on all fours, running as fast as it could, the darkness around it fuelling every fibre in its body. It could feel the wind beating behind it, though now it knew it was not the wind truly that caused these great gusts. A small opening in the rocks ahead, the entrance to its den, was just ahead. Just a few more powerful strides and it would be safe.
A few more powerful strides it would never make. Suddenly the Beowolf felt a great weight crash onto its back, sending it rolling onto its side with shrill whine. Before it could recover, a great claw enclosed around it, pinning it to the ground. The Beowolf turned its head to gaze at its captor, a deep growl gurgling in the back of its throat.
It looked like a Creature of Grimm, with black scales and white bone like chitin on its head and running down its spine, and there were markings dotted here and there. But it was like no Creature of Grimm it had ever seen. It was like a Dragon, with row upon row of shark like teeth in its mouth, and a small horn on the end of its nose. Needle like spines ran down its neck, and at the end of its tail was a studded mace like bludgeon. Its great wings were folded, with leathery purple membranes between each elongated finger, and markings were of the same colour, as were its merciless eyes. The same darkness that blanketed the Creatures of Grimm also hovered around the beast, but there was something else that brimmed within. A strange purple energy seemed to weave in and out of the blackened scales, giving off hues of violet and indigo. This was no natural Creature of Grimm, it was one of the Twilight Grimm, a horrific mixture of both Grimm and Dragon, fused together by unnatural means.
The Beowolf let out a defiant roar as it swiped at the foot pinning it down, though its strikes served only to both blunt its claws on the thick scales and infuriate the beast. The Twilight Grimm unleashed its own roar, a terrible croaking noise that numbed the mind of all who heard it. Then with a powerful thrust of its neck it bit down on the Beowolf, its teeth easily ripping through the sinew of the muscle. It chomped down before swallowing, and lowering its head once more it lifted what was left of the carcass in its mouth and took to the air again. It would have another hour before the Beowolf completely disintegrated. Another hour to eat in its abode.
With powerful wings it flew North, covering hours of travel in mere minutes as it approached its destination: a large tower covered in dark metal spikes. Once, in an age long forgotten, the tower had been the home of two great Titan Keepers, but the Keepers had been felled by the Elemental Lords in a War ages past, and had fallen into disrepair. Then, millennia later, the tower became home to the twin Black Dragons Onyxia and Nefarian, who used the tower as their new lair, naming it Blackwing Lair, its original name long forgotten. The tower had been redesigned, the once smooth and dome like structures so commonly used by the Titan's having being replaced or covered by black Elementium metal.
As the Twilight Grimm came closer, more sights came into view. More Twilight Grimm circled the air above the tower like vultures over a carcass, joined also by pure blooded Black Dragons, creators of the Twilight Grimm. Many more Dragons, both Black and Twilight, flocked on the alcoves of the tower, overlooking the ground below or brooding in small nests. But perhaps below, at the very base of the tower, was the strangest sight of all.
Thousands of tents and buildings were sprung up around the base, made both from Elementium and maroon coloured leather. Both milling throughout and around the structures were men and women wearing black plate armour. They wore an assortment of either hoods, scarves or helmets, but all bore a black brooch with the same symbol that was adorned on the banners that hung from the tower: a hammer in a ring lined with horns. The symbol of the Twilight's Hammer.
The Twilight Grimm flew to one of the ramparts, where already Twilight Grimm were flocking. As the Twilight Grimm landed, it carelessly dropped the carcass, ripping at what remained of the Beowolf's body. Even before it had landed, other Twilight Grimm milled around the sight of the carcass, smaller Twilight Grimm snatching scraps of disintegrating flesh whilst they still could. The Twilight Grimm were quick to turn on one another, hissing and biting at one another as the body slowly melted away.
As the Twilight Grimm fought one another, a great moaning bell rang out throughout the tower, causing the Twilight's Hammer cultists below to slowly turn their heads to the many altars that littered the earth, slowly chanting in long forgotten languages as they approached the altars, some carrying staffs bashing the ends of the weapons in a rhythmic beat. As the cultists continued with their rites, another gathering was occurring within the tower, amongst the leaders of the cult.
As each of the leaders came, they handed whatever weapons they carried with them over to the guards that stood either side of the doorway. The room they met one another in was grand, lit up by flames on spiked torch sconce's that lined the wall as well as a Gothic chandelier that hung from the ceiling. In the centre was a large black table, surrounded by chairs of similar design with a single chair at the North end of the table. In total there were four doors: two large double doors at the North and South end of the room and small single doors on the West and East side of the room for the servants to enter and leave through. Either side of each door was the standard of the Twilight's Hammer, the stands adorned with Dragon wings either side of the hammer.
Many of the leaders had already gathered and were sat on the table, passing the time in their own ways. On the eastern side of the table sat four figures, hooded and cloaked in the colours of the Twilight's Hammer. Their faces were concealed and they showed no skin, yet beneath their hoods primal lights streamed out, and they spoke to no one but each other in harsh whispers, the words they spoke meaning nothing to those that listened.
On the western side of the table sat three figures, each one more different than the last. Close to the southern end of the table was a woman, her skin pale and her ebony hair flowing down her bare shoulders. She wore a sleeveless purple robe that was covered in runes, and black linen was wrapped around her forearms. A silvery veil, that usually concealed the lower portion of her face, was instead looped around her slender neck, revealing her attractive features to those present.
Next to her was a black skinned bull Faunus, his large frame covered neck to toe in black armour that seemed to glow with a faint purple light. The shoulder-guards on his armour were designed to look like the head of a Dragon, whilst the helmet which he had laid on the table was designed to look like the very head of the corrupted Aspect Deathwing himself. His face was set in a stern expression, with purple eyes that seemed to scan those present for any weaknesses. The only hair on his head was the short forked beard that ran across his lower jaw, with two long black horns sprouting either side of his head. The majority of his face was also covered by a grey ash like war paint, designed to look like that of a human skull.
Perhaps the strangest present however, was the man that sat closest to the northern end of the table...at least if he could be called a man any more. He had once been human, and a very valuable one to the cult as well. He had been one of their deadliest servants, and held a large swathe of land in the Kingdom of Atlas. But in recent months, he had undergone an experimental ritual, fusing his soul with the essence of not one, but two Elemental spirits. Now his skin was ice, hard as diamonds, and his eyes glowed a deathly blue colour. Purple leather was draped across his legs and shoulders, and black Elementium was bound across his forearms and shins. Now he had power over the Element of Ice, and he used these powers to deadly effect.
The northern doors suddenly swung open, and those that were present suddenly stood to attention. The silence that had settled was broken only by the creaking of the closing door and the soft tapping of feet. The one who held the silence was a man, his face concealed by a black hooded robe, his arms and legs covered in silver armour. The man stopped at the empty chair at the head of the table, pulling it back before sitting upon it, the rest following likewise. None dared to speak until he gave them leave, for he was the Twilight Father, and his word was law. And one who stepped out of his ruling would be lucky to receive a quick death.
The Twilight Father simply sat for what seemed like an age, both hands intertwined with one another as he simply stared ahead, not a single one of the others uttering a word, and none dared to meet his hidden gaze. The Twilight Father slowly looked upon each of those gathered, before holding a clawed hand out towards them.
"Speak, for it is clear that you will soon burst." the Twilight Father commanded, his voice rich with authority. "And quite frankly, I do not wish to be responsible for the mess you will leave."
The others turned their gazes instead to one another, until at last the pale woman spoke up.
"Forgive us, Father." she began, using the Twilight Father's honorary title. "We are all just wondering why exactly we have been summoned. Will you be so gracious as to enlighten us?"
The Twilight Father chuckled, not a dark or mirthful laugh as one he so commonly used. He chuckled as if he had been told a joke whose punchline he had found amusing, and the grim mood that had settled over the hall began to shift with the chuckle.
"Be forgiven, Lorthuna." the Twilight Father told the woman. "I have not summoned you here to be coddled like pups still wet behind the ear, nor to chastise you for past failings, known or unknown. In truth, we are here to celebrate."
With that, he snapped his fingers and the side doors suddenly opened. The gathered leaders began to shift and turn as they watched servants enter the hall, some carrying silver goblets whilst others carried glass pitchers filled with the finest red wine shipped from Mistral. The servants deposited a goblet to each of the leaders whilst a second would pour the wine into the cup either to a certain level or when the recipient signalled for them to stop. Once all the goblets had been filled, the servants filed out of the room, leaving only the gathered leaders in the room once again.
"We are gathered here today, to celebrate the success our organisation has achieved." the Twilight Father continued. "Ever since the Cataclysm, our forces have achieved astounding success across the board. The Lord Deathwing has returned as foretold, our Twilight Grimm forces have multiplied and at last we have forever silenced that mewling witch Salem. I am aware that whilst she is dead, many of her pets and informants are still at large but with the head removed, the many bodies will eventually wither out and die."
"Our victory over Salem was indeed well earned, Father." the ice fleshed man stated, his voice cold and raspy. "But we suffered great losses in the assault."
"True indeed, Arcurion. But I do believe that will not be a problem in the near future." the Twilight Father replied, before turning to face the bull Faunus. "Warmaster Blackhorn? How many men and women flocked to our banner before the Cataclysm?"
"About four hundred a month, if we were lucky." the bull Faunus, Blackhorn, responded.
"And after the Cataclysm?"
"Over a thousand, and growing."
The Twilight Father nodded his head before turning to address all of them with open arms.
"And now, thanks to all of our efforts, victory is now within our grasps."
"Do not be so sure, Twilight Father!" a new voice bellowed, one that dripped with untold malice and hatred.
All froze at the voice, the Twilight Father more than the rest, before they quickly stood and turned to the northern door, where the voice came from. The doors then swung open, with such force it seemed that they would fall off their hinges. In strode a figure, taller and broader than even Blackhorn. His skin was a pale grey, and black scales brimmed with fire covered his chest. Great horns sprang out from his shoulders, whilst black claw like gloves protected his forearms, and Draconic claws erupted from his armoured boots. His hair was long and black, and his eyes burned with fire, his right eye covered in scars. Five metal spikes sprouted from his brow, whilst his lower jaw was covered by a metal one, lined with triangular teeth.
"Lord Deathwing!" the Twilight Father shouted, rapidly dropping to his knees and averting his gaze, for it was one not even he could meet. "We are humbled by your presence, and are-"
"Silence!" Deathwing commanded, and all flinched at the harshness of his tone. "I did not come here to trade words with a grovelling worm! If I wished to do so, I would have stayed in my prison where such filth could be found!"
"Of course, a thousand pardons Master." the Twilight Father stuttered out, quickly standing up yet still averting the gaze of the Dragon in mortal form. "We were just discussing our recent victories and how victory is-"
"I know of what you were speaking of." Deathwing once again interrupted, taking a menacing step towards the Twilight Father. "And it is a lie. Victory is indeed within our grasp, but there is still the threat of the Silver Eyed!"
"The Silver Eyed?" the Twilight Father murmured, looking up ever so briefly. "But my Master, the Silver Eyed Warriors are all but extinct. We made sure of it."
"You left one alive, or are you forgetting the light show that occurred at the pinnacle of Beacon Tower?" Deathwing asked in a condescending tone. "One still lives. I felt her power even through the earth."
"Her?" the Twilight Father asked, clearly confused.
"Her name is Ruby Rose." Deathwing stated matter of factly. "She wears a red cape and carries a Scythe with her. According to my informants she was last seen heading for Mistral with three companions. As long as she lives, the Hour of Twilight will never set upon this world."
"If you deem her a notable threat, then I will have her dealt with." the Twilight Father obliged, nodding his head slowly.
"I should hope so, for your sake." Deathwing stated, the malice in his voice clear. He then turned to leave, only to stop at the doors. "I am at a delicate juncture in my current plans where my utmost attention is paramount. I would be most displeased if I had to come and deal with the red brat for you, Father."
The bitterness as he mockingly used the Twilight Father's title was all too clear, and his dreaded presence was still felt even after he had left the room. The Twilight Father stood still, frozen like a statue until at last he turned again, sitting swiftly down at the table, tapping his fingers rhythmically as if in deep thought. Slowly the other leaders began to sit down once again, and an uncomfortable silence filled the room.
"As I was about to say," the Twilight Father finally said, speaking as if Deathwing had never entered the chamber. "There is still much work to be done. Lorthuna, you are to return to our base in Menagerie. Ensure that our allies in the wastes of that continent are still loyal to us."
"As you wish, Father." Lorthuna replied, holding a clenched fist to her chest as she bowed her head.
"Blackhorn, you will stay here with the Ascendant Council to hold the fort until otherwise called for." the Twilight Father ordered, gesturing towards the four occupants on the east end of the table, who had sat nearly motionless throughout the meeting.
"As you command, Father." Blackhorn said, saluting the same way Lorthuna had.
"Arcurion," the Twilight Father then said, turning towards the Ice Ascendant. "You are to return to Atlas with me. I have heard troubling news from our fort there, and I believe it is time that we 'relieved' the commander of his burdens."
"Your will be done, Father." Arcurion nodded, saluting as his fellows had.
"Now, before we continue, are there any questions?" the Twilight Father asked, leaning forward to look at the others present.
Arcurion, Lorthuna and Blackhorn turned to one another and exchanged glances, before turning to the Twilight Father and shaking their heads. But the Ascendant Council turned to one another and exchanged with one another in their strange tongue. At last, one of them turned to face the Twilight Father.
"What of the girl, Ruby Rose?" he asked, his voice cutting through those present like a dread wind.
"Do not concern yourself with her welfare." the Twilight Father muttered, leaning back in his chair. "I will send one of our best to deal with her. But worry not about her. Come, let us toast!"
The Twilight Father then reached forward and held his goblet into the air, the rest of those gathered doing likewise. They then raised their cups to the air as all heads turned to face the Twilight Father.
"Let the shattering of this world commence, as the sun sets on the mortal world for the final time."
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And there you have it, the first chapter is done. Liked it? Feel free to leave a review and constructive criticism is welcomed. Any questions? Either PM me or leave in your reviews.
Raging Archon out.