*Blows dust off Fan Fiction account*
Welp, here ya go. I don't really have much to say.
Disclaimer: *insert clever, witty statement about how I own nothing*
HEY BEOFRE YOU GET TO READING THE STORY; READ THIS: So, in this fic, the Kingdom of Death is roughly about two thirds the size of the US. Just take everything west of the Mississippi River, and that's about the scale we're talking about here. This point might help clarify a few things, and it'll become more important later on. Also, Death City is its capital, not to be confused with the actual empire itself.
Our story begins with the birth of Ater and Albus, twin sons of a powerful king. There was a prophecy foretold that one son would go on to become a great hero, the other destined to be nothing more than a shadow in the other's glory. As the children were raised, they lived their lives normally as any child would. However, when the brothers turned eighteen their parents told them of their fate. The father decided to hold a competition to see which son would equate to glory. The right to be the heir to the throne would belong to whomever won. As the competition went on, they found that the brothers were equally matched, both in skill and honor. Neither brother cheated, neither brother lost. It was a tie up until the final round. Since the entire competition had been a draw, the last match would be a fight to the death. The brothers were devastated, angry at their father's cruelty. They fought nonetheless, both seeking to please their father anyway. It was a long, bloody match, the brothers equal in strength and will power. Ater decided he did not wish to see his brother suffer any longer; he gave in. Ater dropped his weapon and knelt on the bloodstained ground before his brother, signaling his surrender. Albus looked at his brother with sad, but thankful eyes. He walked out of the arena a champion. Soon thereafter, the brothers' father died. Albus took over the throne and became king. That day, he promised to Ater that one day he would conquer a kingdom, name it after his brother, and let him rule.
That day never came. Albus went on to conquer many kingdoms in the area, a god to his people. All thoughts of his brother and the promise were lost. Albus ended up naming his empire the Kingdom of Death after the great god of Death himself. Ater was not pleased. After six long years of betrayal, Ater had grown wicked and corrupt. He made a pact with the great demon god himself: Asura the Feared. Asura promised to give Ater strength in turn for two things: his soul and his sanity. Upon making the deal, Ater's pale skin turned to dark black scales, his teeth became sharp fangs. His eyes turned to nothing but large, empty pupils and he grew a long, devilesque tail. That day, Ater vowed he would take his brother's life and become the heir to the throne. He sought out Albus for many months, finally happening upon him at a bar in a small town. Ater had wrapped himself in many cloaks to cover his scales, fangs, claws, and tail. Ater took a seat next to Albus, telling him who he was. Albus was overjoyed to see his brother. After a few drinks, he told Ater about his troubles in the kingdom, about how there were rumors going around of plans to overthrow him, treacherous plots. He told Ater that, since he was the only family he had left, he wanted to rule alongside him. Albus expected his brother to be happy, but he was wrong. Ater was furious at the thought that his brother would only want to them to rule together simply because he was a failure as a king. Ater unsheathed his sword and attacked Albus. Albus defended, and the final battle between the brothers began.
Unfortunately, when you pit two equal powers against one another, neither will win. Each brother was killed in the process. As time passed on, Albus' kingdom fell and people began argue over whether or not his death was just. Some believed that Ater's only reason for attacking his brother was jealousy, while others argued that his reason was because of Albus' broken promise. At first these arguments were simple debates over a family dinner, but they soon grew to actual, physical fights, and eventually, full scale civil war broke out in Death City. The people who believed Ater was in the wrong to kill Albus were quick to take on the features of their beloved fallen king. They wore large, majestic wings to symbolize the god-like qualities of their leader, along with golden armor, mighty shields, and the best of weapons. Needless to say, few people could afford to have these views, seeing as they had to buy their own extravagant armor with their own money. For that reason, the party that believed Ater had every right to kill his brother, and died with honor, had an overwhelming majority in number. Unfortunately, the only protection they had was what their scraps of money could buy, which equated to nothing. Deciding that instead of wasting their hard-earned gold, they would make a pact with Asura the Feared, just as Ater had. Each individual who made this pact underwent the same transformation as their idol; the scales, the tail, the whole nine yards.
So, 300 years later, the war is still going strong.
Now, the only thing I'm able to hear anymore is explosions and cries. The sky is shaded in an eerie black and crimson, the air thick with ash and smoke. Fire is consuming the once great Death City, or what's left of it. It's getting harder to breathe with every passing moment. Demons darting across the sky and dashing across the ground are leaving a trail of destruction wherever they set foot. Us white winged creatures are doing our best to fight off the accursed black beasts, but we're failing miserably. This is a war between angels and demons, and we're far from success.
This is a time of desperate need; we're losing soldiers faster than we can replace them. Hell, I'm even out here trying to stave off every blasted creature I see. I'm only fifteen, for Death's sake! How the hell am I supposed to kill a thirteen foot tall, clawed, and not to mention fire-breathing demon? Sure, I'm an angel that is trained in defeating these things, but I only started training one year ago! My papa may be war legend, but that doesn't mean I'm some sort of combat prodigy! I can barely fight off the upperclassmen at my school. In other words, if we don't get rid of these guys soon, this is going to be a very long, painful night.
Again.
"Hey! Watch out!" A voice behind me screams before tackling me to the ground. How rude! That's no way to treat a lady. That's what I would have said if this mysterious boy hadn't just save me from having my skull cracked open by a crumbling building.
"Ah, thanks," I say, struggling into a sitting position. "Guess I should be more careful."
"No kidding," The boy's mouth slides into a playful smirk. Now standing, he holds his hand out to help me up. I accept the gesture graciously. This boy looks familiar, but I can't match the name to the face. Surely I'd be able to remember the name of someone who has three white stripes slashed across his pitch black hair, but looks like my mind is still a flurry with the excitement of this whole situation. He must've sensed my confusion – or maybe he was just being gentlemanly – because he looks me in the eye and says, "Death the Kid, class three ranged combat angel, but you can just call me Kid. Pleased to make your acquaintance," He holds out his hand again, this time for me to shake. I do as was silently asked, nodding as if I knew his name this whole time, but preferred to keep it a secret.
"Maka Albarn, class one close combat angel," I say with confidence. "The pleasure's all mine."
Wow, a class three angel? I must've looked more stupid than I thought back there. Quicker than I can register my embarrassment, another goddamned demon comes flying right at us. "Duck!" I yell, slamming my body to the broken cobblestone sidewalk once again. Screeching a wicked tune, the winged demon makes a sharp turn and flies back at us again. Though it's doing a very poor job at killing Kid and I, it's succeeding greatly in giving me a splitting headache. It's a puny thing, so I should be able to take it out easily. Spreading my wings, I fly past Kid and nail the crying demon right between the eyes. I smirk, knowing that Kid saw the whole thing. Sweet. I probably look fucking awesome right now.
"You little fuck!" The bleeding demon wails. Wait, what? Didn't I just kill it? Besides, demons can't talk! At least not the ones I've fought. "What're you tryin' to do, kill me?" It cries again. Okay, now this is just absurd. Wasn't the point to try and kill it? Obviously this demon isn't all there. I mean, none of them are, but this one is especially crazy. "Hey, help me out from under this thing! I can't breathe!"
Oh.
"Fuck. I am so sorry!" I cry, running over to the obviously dead demon and obviously living human pinned beneath it. Enveloping the accursed thing with light, I lift it up off the man with ease and help him to his feet. He swats my hand away and glares at me menacingly.
"Damn angels. Figures you'd be the cause of my pain," He scoffs, dusting off his clothes and spitting in my direction.
"How repulsive!" I sneer back. That bastard just ruined my new pair of boots. "Maybe I should trap you again!" I say, raising the unconscious demon that was still under my control overhead. His arrogance falters, but his glare is quick to harden. At this time, I notice his strange features. His lazy vermillion eyes and sharply contrasting stark white hair. His eyes raise a red flag in my mind, but I can't seem to figure out why.
"Why don't you hurry up and finish this fucking war, huh? All these explosions are making it hard to sleep."
"Mind your mouth, human! It's not as easy as just slapping on a pair of wings and punching a demon in the face!" If this guy says one more thing, I'm gonna go apeshit on him.
"Maka," Kid warns, approaching from behind. He places one hand on my shoulder and the other in his pocket. His calculating golden eyes are shining with the slightest bit of disgust. "Don't become agitated so easily."
"But Kid—!"
"Listen to the asswipe, angel. Just shut the fuck up."
That's it, that asshole's dying. What's he got against angels anyway! We're the good guys here, and for god's sake I just saved his fucking life! I lunge forward, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt and pull him down to my level. My fist is clenched and my lips are curled into a scowl. This bastard is gonna get it.
"You wouldn't dare," He smirks, gazing right into my eyes. Cocky bastard. He has the audacity to insult me, to test my patience like this! Before I can register how utterly livid I am at this moment, two more demons come racing down the alley ways flank either side of me. Hearing their wails, I prepare myself. Without breaking my angry glare at the impudent jackass in front of me, I release his collar and throw my arms out to the side, blasting two large beams of energy from my palms.
"NOT NOW!" I scream at the disintegrating demons. They're roughly three times as big as the one that I pried off the man earlier. I turn my attention back to said man, who is giving me a new look. He's either exceptionally impressed, or scared shitless. Quite possibly both. Either way, I think I just won our little tussle. "I think I've made my point clear," I say, giving him a smirk of my own and turning on my heel to face Kid.
"Yeah, whatever," He calls from behind. "Just don't fuck shit up again." I heard him walk away, and only when I'm sure he's gone do I let myself crumble. I fall to my knees beside Kid; those blasts of light took almost all of my energy away. I've certainly never been able to produce an attack as powerful as that before. Was it overkill? That may very well be an understatement. Was it amazing enough to make a scrawny fifteen-year-old girl like me look like a behemoth with limitless reserves of power? That may be an overstatement, but hey, I nearly made a human shit his pants and that's good enough for me.
"How did you do that?" Kid gapes, helping me up once again. I use his shoulder for support. "I thought you said you were specialized in close combat?"
"I did – I am – I don't know exactly how it happened. I was pissed. Guess it's an anger fueled attack?" I give him my best guess. He's knows as much about the attack as I do. "What was that guy's problem, anyway? It's not like I've done anything to him. Actually, that's a lie. I saved his goddamn life."
"Maka, do you know how angels are born?"
"I – what?" Really, what? Where did that come from? "Yeah, but what's that got to do with anything?"
"Then you know how demons are born, correct?"
"Yes, Kid, I do," This guy is a master of bewilderment. Or maybe just of avoiding questions. I might as well play along, though; he probably knows where he's going with it. "Demons aren't necessarily born, though. They're… created, per say."
"Correct. That man, Maka, is on his way to becoming a demon. Who knows, he might be on his way to Asura's lair now," He states gravely with a hint of pity. I choose to pretend that his last remark was sarcastic.
It hits me then, why his features were so alarming to me. Particularly, those deep crimson orbs of his.
That man has the eyes of a demon.
"CALLING ALL COMBAT ANGELS TO BASE;" An automated voice commands from seemingly nowhere. "RETREAT IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT STOP TO ASSIST CITIZENS; RETREAT IMMEDIATELY. I REPEAT: ALL COMBAT ANGELS TO BASE; RETREAT IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT STOP TO ASSIST CITIZENS, RETREAT IMMEDIATELY," The voice repeats the phrase over and over like a broken record. We're supposed to retreat? We may be losing, but isn't that all the more reason to stay? And what's with all this "don't help citizens" shit? That's ninety percent of the reason we're out here now, anyway!
"What in the heavens is my father thinking?" Kid says, glaring in the direction of our base camp on earth. Good thing I'm not the only one thinking that this is a rash decision.
"Dunno," I say flatly. "But I don't think it'd be a good idea to defy him. Let's go," I stop using him as a support and spread my wings. I fly up and to the east, Kid following closely behind. This is just awful. The sun has long since shone; there's too much smoke. Without having to concentrate on staying alive so much anymore, I tune in to the world around me. Nothing's really changed in the past half hour – not that I really expected it to. Explosions. Cries. It's all the same. It has been for the past three-hundred years..
Maybe that pre-demon was right, we need to hurry up and finish this.
Upon arriving at the base, Kid and I find that we're not the only ones who are confused about our latest orders. Every angel here is lost as to why we've been called to base. Luckily, everyone's question is answered quickly.
"I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you all here," A tall man dressed in all black announces as he approaches a pedestal. The crowd grows silent instantaneously at the sight of their supreme ruler, the god of Death himself, or as Kid likes to call him, "dad". "There's no need to beat around the bush here, so I'm going to come right out and say it. My fellow angels, I'm afraid I have some very traumatizing news," He states gravely. "The human race is about to become extinct." The crowd gasps and I just stand there, expressionless. Somehow, I'm not surprised it came to this. I just wasn't expecting it to happen so quickly. "Approximately one hundred remain, and at the rate they're dying, it won't be long before there are none. So, we must protect these hundred at all costs. You all understand how detrimental the humans are to our survival, so I tell you this: every human is going to be assigned a guardian angel."
The crowd groans, Kid and I along with them. Drastic measures much? I'm not looking forward to this. Knowing my luck, I'll end up with some creepy, old, fat pedophile. Oh jeez, speaking of creepy and old…
"Here to assign you to your human is Lieutenant General Albarn," Lord Death says. I must've physically cringed, because Kid puts a hand on my shoulder and shoots me a concerned look.
"My father," I whisper. Kid's eyes narrow questioningly while mine simply roll. "We don't have the best relationship," I explain. "But that's a story for another time. C'mon, I think we're about to be assigned to our human," I say as a gruff looking guard ushers us into a line. The line moves quickly, and much to my dismay. I haven't spoken to my father for over six months, and quite frankly I'm not looking forward to speaking to him now. As my turn approaches, I trudge up the stairs to the stage where my father is standing. Kid goes first, as he is in front of me.
"Death the Kid, ID no. 4242564A. You've actually been assigned two humans to look after: Elizabeth and Patricia Thompson. Good luck, kid, I hear they're some pretty tough chicks," He says. My father hands Kid two pictures and a slip of paper, which I assume are the girls' pictures and address. Kid nods, looking overjoyed. He makes his way off the stage, still grinning like an idiot, leaving me and my father alone.
"Maka Albarn, ID no. 4242665G. You've been assigned to–!" He stops midsentence and his eyes grow large in anger at the picture in his hand. "No one, a-ha-ha nope! Seems we've already assigned all the humans, what luck! But you know what; I'll let you stay with me instead!" He winks at me and I nearly slap him for the embarrassment. Just who does he think he is?
"Papa, please!" I groan. "I see the picture in your hand. And there is no way I'm staying with you," I snarl and snatch the picture from my father's grasp. Just when I think my day can't get any worse, the picture in my hand proves me a thousand times wrong.
It's that bastard pre-demon from before! My father seems more than happy that I'm furious with our pairing, and I'm about to let him give me another until Lord Death approaches us from backstage.
"Miss Albarn, is there a problem?" He asks with his normal unreadable façade.
"Well, you see, I… uh, well it's just that… No, sir there is no problem," I finally say, defeated.
"Good! Because I hand-picked him for you myself! Be off now, I'm not even sure if he's still alive!" He states as bluntly as ever. I sigh, pry my pleading papa off of my legs, and fly off to the address scribbled on the back of the paper.
I stare at the elegant golden door in front of me blankly, just as I have been for the past ten minutes. I didn't really think through how exactly I was going to introduce myself. I can't just very well just waltz in like I own the place and announce "hi, I'm your new guardian, here to protect you from demons that want to eat your face!" No, that's much too blunt for my tastes. Luckily, my dilemma is somewhat resolved as the fancy, expensive-looking door swings open, revealing a rather pissed off-looking man and his unkempt glowering face.
"Oh fuck no. Whaddaya want now?" He sneers, already knowing he's not going to like the answer.
"Oh – I, uh… I'm here to protect you…?" I stutter out with a minimal amount of confidence. As I prepare to elaborate, the door slams in my face, nearly hitting it. "H-hey!" I yell, pounding on the door. "What's the big idea? Would you rather have demons eating your face?" My pounding and hollering comes to no avail, however. Or so I think until the door cracks open just enough for me to see the man's piercing red eyes.
"Are you serious? I don't need any protection. Now get off my property before I set the dogs to you," He says, hardening his ever intense glare.
"Just you wait!" I snap, catching the door before it slams in my face again. "I don't want to be here anymore than you want me to be, but it's my job, got it? I can't just go back and say 'oh, he didn't want me to stay,' okay?"
"And what if I do say that? Is your boss going to smite you or something?"
"My boss is the god of Death. That is a very probable consequence. So we just have to put up with each other until Lord Death finds a way to end this whole damn thing and then we'll be out of each other's lives forever. Sound good?"
"Sounds great, buddy ol' pal!" He cheers with more sarcasm then I was aware a person is capable of.
"We don't have any other choice," I sigh. "Will you just let me in?"
"You were intending to stay here?"
"Let me rephrase that: let me in before I blast this whole place back to the Stone Age."
"Alright, alright! Jeez, learn to take a joke," He opens the door, allowing me entrance to the large mansion where he resides. It seems like a big place for just one person to be living. I wander around the main foyer and make my way up a set of stairs to the right.
"This is quite the place you have here," I call down, astonished at the divine elegance and class of everything.
"It's really not. You can stay in the first room on the right," He calls back, climbing up the same set of stairs I had. I follow his instructions only to find…
"For Death's sake, this is a bathroom! Can you cut the shit and just show me to my room?"
Still snickering, he says, "Yeah, yeah, just go down one more door." I glare at him and he rolls his eyes. "I'm not joking this time!"
I open the next door down and find an adequately sized bedroom that's just as fancy and high-class as the rest of the mansion.
"Say, you got a name, angel?" He asks as I sit on the bed that feels just as expensive as it looks.
"Maka Albarn," I say. "How about you?"
"That name's Soul," He says plainly, already padding out the door.
"Soul what?" I ask curiously.
"Soul E – Soul, just Soul. You better get some rest. Its night time, I think, and you are of no use to me if you're a sleep-deprived zombie," He says, closing the door behind him as he walks out. I giggle silently and his statement about it being night. It really is hard to tell night from day with all of this smoke. He is right, though, I need sleep badly. I can't very well carry out my orders if I'm a "sleep-deprived zombie." I lay down of the elegant bed, enveloping myself in the warm, fancy duvet and sheets.
'Perhaps in the morning, there will be sunlight again,' I think, as I do every night, before settling into an expensive-feeling slumber.
Bad ending is bad. Aslkdjf;alksdjfk I SUCK AT ENDINGS.
Uh, so yeah. Hope you enjoyed that. I'm not sure how long this story will be, maybe ten chapters at the very most. Meh.
Until the next time I'm able to breathe in this incredibly busy holiday season!
~phyre
