Origins, Black Blood
Part One
Masks, reddened flowers, the smell of gunpowder, and the clashing of swords. The needle finally pricked the skin of humanity, and bled under the name of the holy. A war for the superior. A war for the most holy. Countless dead, all by the hands of their own.
The third envoy of humanity grew desperate. Desperate for a resolution, but not one of absolute peace. He envied power, power that would not only unify the city but to be able to rule over it. While the war continued he feverishly searched, praying to his god in the temple atop the edge of a cliff. He was being pursued by the crusade of Kuromori.
The pledge to Dormin was on the verge of being forgotten the more he had prayed to Grandis Supernus, but an elderly worshipper relayed it upon the envoy, to warn him there will be no victor if chaos continued to reign upon this city. She warned him of the crusade of Kuromori hunting him down, and helped him escape. He rode his horse out into the lands, to his last resort: the shrine of worship.
He remembered the place as a child, but knew not of its current condition. He never realised the true mass of the shrine as a child, but was awestrucken as a man. He had arrived, and it was untouched albeit more green than usual.
He was unsure what to do- the halls were empty. The silence alarmed him, clasping the hilt of his sword on his waist, doubting the woman's words as he readied for an ambush, but was only greeted with a strange sound that resonated throughout the temple- laughter.
"Your weapon is of no use against Us, mortal…"
This only made the envoy grip the hilt even tighter, darting his eyes around the hall.
"Dormin!" he cried out, trembling. "Show yourself so that we may speak, it is of grave importance!"
Dormin's physical form appeared, massive in stature, knealing before the envoy. They peered downward, staring into his eyes. Small, shadowy figures stood nearby, their faceless direction facing him.
"It has been a while since thou need'st Our aid…" They playfully responded. "What dost thou-"
"There is too much bloodshed in this war that has turned our city into chaos! I need something. Something to win this war."
Silence pierced his ears. The god only lay still, unmoving. The shadowy figures had vanished. Dormin's complexion grew more opaque. They edged their head back.
"A war?" Dormin responded broodly.
"It was inevitable, we tried to warn them what would happen, but many had forgotten about you!" the man looked down. "I… had forgotten, but now I have been reminded of my duties, and I -no- we ask for your help!
"I," he stepped forward, growing flustered. "I need a weapon, no, an army! Something!"
There was a long pause. Their gaze remained unbroken as They thought. They rose higher, crouching, their gaze etching into the envoy's memory. The wind gently howled. Dormin looked upward, to the hole in the ceiling, light shining through. So strange that on a day of desperation, nature continued on, the sun shone bright like a ray of hope. Suddenly, Dormin vanished. The man hissed and turned on his heel to leave, but Dormin spoke again.
"Come to the basin beyond this room…"
The envoy hesitated, glancing back at his horse as he paused his step. The mare only nickered, turning her head to the side, facing the outside world. He faced the basin, anxiously closing in on the next room. The man stared into the shallow basin filled with water. He stared into his reflection, seeing the sunken shadows underneath his eyes, his hair stingy and unkempt. He almost felt ashamed for appearing so terribly to the god.
The water quivered, and his reflection distorted. He looked onward, seeing a strange object in the centre of the basin. He hesitated again, then entered the basin, the water climbing past his knees as he made it in to the centre. He reached in, and wielded a sword, a sword as black as the night. He held the sword up to examine its features, in awe of its unique craft.
"Thou wields a portion of Our power… this sword is of Our essence… conquer your foes, restore balance amongst mortals… and once you have accomplished what we askest… you must return the sword to Us."
The man broke his gaze with the sword, looking upward. He nodded, thanked the god, and hurried his way to the entrance. Shadows appeared from the ground again, watching as he rode off into the horizon. He held the sword up, whooping, amazed at how it reflected the light.
The shadows froze, then vanished.
