Hey there, this is my first fanfic...first, I must say one thing: FIRE EMBLEM FTW! Now that I got that out of my system...well, this is my idea of what happened with the Dark God years ago, against King Deghinsea (I think) of Goldoa, Altina, and the unknown hero. So, let's get rid of all the neccessary junk before I start.

Disclaimer: sobs ...I don't own Fire Emblem...Nintendo and Intelligent Systems are lucky. Altina, King Deghinsea, Sephiran, Ashera, and the Dark God are not my characters...all characters that I actually DO own will be mentioned at the end of the chapter of their appearance. If only I owned Fire Emblem...then I would've let Maniac Mode come to the U.S. and made sure Fire Emblem 5 was here, too.

Warnings: Althought not explicit or graphic enough to be M, I may include some heavy stuff here...maybe. At least enough to be rated what it is. Also, some spoilers if you haven't finished Path of Radiance (my favorite U.S. Fire Emblem, if you for some reason wanted to know).

Extra Things: I am NOT obligated to review your story if you review mine, ESPECIALLY if you give me a "gr8 j0b, by3," because I want to get published one day...also, if you do get a review from me, expect to have criticism. I'm good at criticizing fan-related Fire Emblem stuff.

Questions for you guys (I'm new at fanfic!): What counts as angst?

Me: Now let's get-

Gatrie: WADDUP, MAH MAN! YO, DRINKS ON YOU! slaps my back

Me: spine shatters Ow...

Walking across the moist soil, letting his boots sink into it, a man strode into the village he lived in- no, it would be formerly now…temporarily stopping, the man sighed, letting the soft rain fall upon him, letting it slide off. This had always calmed him down, especially in the night like now, but now, with the task he was burdened, it no longer did…

"The night has always calmed me," the man spoke to himself, "and so has the rain…yet nothing comforts me now. Today, the night is no longer a shadow filled with calm, but a dark cloak, void of all, neither exciting nor relaxing…and the rain, it feels so sharp, so piercing. Has nature idea of what deeds I do today?"

He had long, black hair that smoothly flowed onto his shoulders and was a white, pale skin. The man had one of the fairest faces upon Tellius, and his eyes, which usually shone with a bright light, seemed dim for once, caused by recent troubles. He was traveling in a dark brown cloak, though it did seem to resemble a mere piece of cloth ripped from something a weaver would make any day. That would explain the lack of resistance to soaking, which was usually endowed upon cloaks by mages…

Continuing his walk, the man felt his conscience and desires struggle with each other, knowing that his fate had already been sealed…who could resist such strength, such will?

Everyone can, you fool…fate is only sealed by the one who it focuses on. And you know that day, those words, they could all have been ignored, his conscience muttered. Deep down, in the depths of his soul, where a small flame was instead of the ice, the man knew this, yet he struggled for the best, or at least what he thought was.

Looking around, the man found the house he was searching for. Like all the others, it had a terraced roof and was a dull yellow color, or something close to a mix of both yellow and black…however, this one was built of stone and, strangely enough, glowed a noticeable red.

Blood red, like that which I shall soon...ah, don't think about that now. Long ago, it was built by a powerful sage, who decided that wood would not do at all as he would be practicing fire magic. And, too ward off spirits, the sage made it look like it was covered in blood every night, when the most powerful ones would come.

"No spirits, but maybe the current resident would wish it worked on beorc," the man commented, striding towards the door, also seeming as if it were covered in blood. Sharply and powerfully knocking on the door three times, the man waited outside until the door opened.

"Ah, my friend, Sephiran…please, come in! You must be soaking wet by now, after the long travels you have made. People have wondered when you would come back, and some believed you were dead…after all, it has been one and half year, instead of the sixth months you stated," the house's owner stated.

"Thank you, Iarvil…" Sephiran responded, hesitantly walking in. "I…though you might've…moved out, due to all the strange rumors…of this house being one of death…" Thought or hoped? he asked himself.

"Of course not! After the advice you gave me about ignoring what others say and following your own path?" Iarvil questioned, as Sephiran's feet shifted slightly. "What's with all the hesitation, anyway?"

"Well, I'm not…sure how to talk…to my…friend after this long time," Sephiran lied. "Now, may I…stay here for the night?"

"For the night! Why not just move completely back in?" Iarvil replied.

"Well, I have found…a new land I am…fascinated by," Sephiran answered. "And I've come here…just to say…farewell. Unless, well, would you like to come back with me?"

"Hm, well, seeing as how you're leaving, why not me? There's nothing here except bothersome people muttering about my death being inevitable from living in this old house, you know! I'll come, Sephiran."

"Ah…excellent," Sephiran stated, without a sign of excitement. "This will be great…it's an excellent village, at peace, with a powerful and wise ruler…it's in the mountain range on the northwest part of this empire…and, well, it's fascinating for fighters, magic users, and scholars like me, if you don't mind a bit of adventure and…chaos."

"Sounds like a great place, old friend. Can't wait to see that town…you can stay in my bed tonight. I'm staying up, packing, and thinking how to make a living there, alright? I'm tired of being a fat, lazy merchant's helper…"

"…your hospitality is appreciated greatly," Sephiran told Iarvil, now feeling uncomfortable. A gnawing feeling had formed in his stomach, and he was feeling guiltier than he was before even stepping foot in the house. His friend was helping him at the expense of some minor luxuries for himself, and what was he, Sephiran, doing for Iarvil? i What a cruel fate upon me… /i Sephiran thought. i No, what a cruel predicament you put yourself in/i a small piece of his mind retorted.

"Now get some rest. Traveling, from what I know, is hard on scholars like you, and it certainly looks like it's been rough…your face seems rather wear, for once."

The Next Morning

Sephiran sleepily opened his eyes, ready to let the sunlight wash over his vision. This day, though, there was no sun, but instead, gray clouds enveloping the sky. "My existence truly is no longer welcome…now it truly does need to become a permanent factor in this world."

The sheets were not comfortable either, now feeling as if they were cold sheets of ice. Sephiran knew that was truly not the case, yet he could not stop himself from feeling that, and also, inside of him, a space in his chest was slowly becoming hollow- no, just a void…

Ignoring the sky, Sephiran continued to observe how everything was outside. The ground, from the previous night's rain, had been completely soaked, and it was blatantly obvious how muddy it would be outside, thus slowing the travel. Also, despite the slow entrance into spring, the trees still remained bare, lifeless and cold. Sephiran shuddered, remembering how he once saw a great and terrible burning of a patch of a forest once before in his travels, hoping that in the future, a second one would never occur.

Not only had the life of the earth been drained away, but so had the life of the wildlife. Repulsed by the trees, late coming back from whatever land beyond Tellius, or for a completely different reason, the birds had yet to return, bringing the joy of their chirping along. Squirrels, which Sephiran fondly remembered from his past childhood, especially when he made the bad mistake of dropping an apple into a batch of acorns, were also missing.

"My deeds…I repulse, repent them yet there is no escape, of course…I have been set in my path, and nothing can be done to change that fact…" Sephiran mumbled, slipping into his thoughts. They were interrupted by three loud raps on the door to the bedroom.

"Sephiran, we should be leaving now…I don't want the villagers to cause a huge commotion about this, especially that merchant. He has far too many friends for my liking, all fat like him, and none would let me pass out of this town the past six months. Chances are they haven't changed since last week's attempt," Iarvil's voice announced.

"Alright, then. I'm coming out, my friend," Sephiran responded. Quickly searching, he found something essential to him. A dagger he could conceal in his sleeve without cutting himself, yet bleeding any other.

One Week Later

They had traveled far north through Begnion, Sephiran insisting on avoiding towns to avoid being recognized (though he would not explain who would know them), through the vast plains and hills. The hills, at spring and winter, generally lacked any distinguishing feature about them. However, in the summer and autumn, strange plants exclusive to northeast Begnion sprang, growing at an incredibly fast rate. These plants, in the summer, shone brightly during the beautiful sunrises, somehow leaving a strange song in your mind. When you tried humming, singing, or recalling it, though, it generally disappeared…in the autumn, when the sun's time was shortening, the plants somehow gave off a brilliant light, of seven different colors.

Though I doubt they would come if it were autumn or summer right now…if just because of me, Sephiran thought sadly.

"Sephiran, we're at the mountain-" Iarvil stopped in mid-sentence, dumbfounded by what he was seeing. Looking up, Sephiran stopped his pondering and gazed up in wonder as well, despite having seen it once before.

The sun was slowly beginning its descent and fading from view until dawn next morning. In the northeastern mountain range of Begnion, though, it was beyond comparison to any other one. Whenever the sun departed, the light brought out the strange colors of the unnamed mountains. Red shone here, brown there, and yellow was in random spots as well. Green was in another area as well as blue; any color could be found. It sounded disorganized and an eyesore, but seeing it would change anyone's mind instantaneously.

"We need to find somewhere to sleep," Sephiran told Iarvil. "Bandits lurk here…how about that cave?" He pointed towards a cavern off in the side of one mountain, the rocks painted green nearby.

Inside the cave, Sephiran led Iarvil into a wide, circular chamber where they would be able to find rest. "I'll take first watch," Sephiran offered. "You took the whole time just yesterday, and you desparately need rest. Might as well let you sleep through the entire night."

"Alright, but are you sure?"

Sephiran paused for a moment, his face pained and confused. "…yes…I'm sure…"

Midnight

In the cave, Sephiran had reluctantly waited until midnight, filled with fear and unease. As the day shifted to a new one, Sephiran sighed, wishing that bandits truly did stalk the mountains, some coming to raid them earlier. But now there was no turning back.

As midnight came, the chamber started undergoing a transformation. The walls, cast in shadows, became a crimson red, with black painted everywhere. Sephiran shuddered, hating the faces…they were faces of death and despair, darkness and hopelessness.

One part of the cave slowly faded away, revealing a small alcove. When Sephiran tried entering it, nothing could happen, but there was still something inside. The corpse of a bishop.

The bishop's face seemed to flare with life, suddenly, and a raspy whisper came from his mouth. "…Sephiran…did you bring…a friend…for unwilling death…?"

"Yes, my lord. I would not fail you, or I'd never return from shame…"

"…excellent, my acolyte. Now, this blood drawing is key, both to you and me. You wish for permanence, for immortality. I can make you ageless, immune to natural death, though in the midst of battle, you must still beware. And I need this to truly gain a mortal form for your world, to gain power…yes, power…the foundation of all…"

"S-s-hould I pr-proceed to k-k-kill Ia- the sacrifice?" Sephiran stammered.

"You fool, of course not! This is a delicate process…as you slay him, by slitting his throat, you must swear allegiance and loyalty to I, Garthoguan, God of Chaos, enemy of that idiot, Ashera…and you must offer your soul, your morals, your passion to darkness, chaos, power…also, you must state that the man before you is worthless, a tool used in the quest for might and immortality. Will you do this? Quickly, decide, as we only have an hour."

"…I-I- will, of c-c-course…" I have no choice…Sephiran drew out the dagger from his sleeve, slowly walked towards his friend- tool, and placed his knife upon the neck of Iarvil. i How did this happen to me in the first place/i

Sephiran, searching for knowledge on the dragons of Goldoa, to make it so Begnion could befriend them, had went into the mountains, hoping some information might be there. He had admired the sunset, and then realized he needed shelter. Running into the nearest cave, Sephiran had stumbled into the circular chamber. However, that night, the roughness of the cave floor kept him up as well as his thoughts, to midnight. At that time, the area had changed, and he curiously went towards the alcove, where he had met the Dark God.

At that time, the alcove could be entered, and there was nothing inside. Touching the cave's walls while in the alcove, Sephiran was teared away from reality, into the endless darkness, when a voice spoke. It had told him it was the Dark God, and delved into Sephiran's mind. Disgusted, the Dark God had found purity, kindness, a soul filled with beliefs, but then something had pleased him. He had entered a darker area of Sephiran, where the ambitions and greed was. The Dark God learned of Sephiran's desire to eternally live for knowledge, and a wish to have control over the world, shaping it however he desired. Garthoguan offered to fulfill the wish of immortality, and in time to come, give him control of the world, but to do the second, he needed to be free.

Garthoguan long ago attempted to enter the mortal land of Tellius to bring true war, but Ashera had confronted him, to keep the balance. After a large struggle, Ashera had overpowered Garthoguan and sealed him in his own domain. Her spell was too strong to completely shatter from outside the seal, where his domain was, but he managed to open a small hole. Garthoguan would be able to possess dead bodies, but unfortunately for a small area, the remains of his final shrine.

Sephiran was asked to be his acolyte and kill someone within the alcove, which Sephiran agreed to out of sheer fear. He murdered a bishop in the remnants of the shrine, which the Dark God took control of. However, he could not move beyond the alcove, and now the shrine was divided away from the rest of the world, due to a failsafe of Ashera's magic. Sephiran then on brought countless people to the mountains, killing them, until one more sacrifice was needed to bring the spell to half of its effects. This one would have to be a dear friend of Sephiran's.

Now, Sephiran knelt in front of Iarvil, nervous and dagger ready at hand. Taking a deep breath, Sephiran thought of what to do. i Garthoguan currently is powerless! Bring a bishop, purify the alcove, seal the Dark God once again! And most importantly, save your friend! No…I have gone too far; no bishop would accept me, and I would instantly be killed by his guard. Iarvil's trust in me would shatter, meaning no one would defend my case…no control over my fate, which is to kill Iarvil… /i Sephiran's hands began to cease shaking, his face gaining resolve. He uttered which was required, clearly and loudly as Iarvil stirred.

"S-Sephiran? Is that you?" Iarvil sleepily asked, as his eyes became clearer. Suddenly, he became more alert, though still down on the ground. "What's the dagger for? Were there band- no, Sephiran, how could you?" He brought a fist up to punch Sephiran and knock him away, but his former friend dealt a swift blow to him with the handle of the dagger first. "Where…have your morals gone…?" Iarvil questioned as he loss consciousness.

"I have none," Sephiran coldly stated. He brought down the dagger. "May Garthoguan stay in our presence, in the mortal world, and bring chaos and strife with him. May his human forms rise and cause warfare and mistrust, to gain power. May he gain enough power to stay in his true form in this foolish land. May he crush Ashera, and let me be his immortal, faithful vassal on Tellius!"

Author's Notes: Well, tell me how you think it was, okay? And be honest. Did I rush (not really concerned for this chapter; this was just a prologue...)? Not descriptive? Did I make 5 million spelling errors? Two grammar errors (not concerned about this either...English is not my first language)? TELL ME! NYAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Wait, my spine's fixed!

Gatrie: BUTTBOMB!

Me: GY- buttbombed ...pain...

More Extras: I think I will take pairing requests for FE7, the original Fire Emblem...I'll make it either a one-shot or more, depending on what you want. But I will turn down requests if I get overloaded, you don't give enough of a reason, or the pairing just pushes me away (I have nothing against yuri or yaoi, but KentxSain, RathxWil, and some others just don't...click with me).