Chapter One - The Storyteller.
"GATHER ROUND CHILDREN!"
The aged voice bellowed. Or at least, attempted to bellow. The man's voice was ancient, but not without humor. A voice every mother, father and child in the small village of Narr knew well. A voice that made it's money, telling stories to children, and other folk alike. A voice that had seen great hardship, and lived to tell the tail with a smile on it's face.
"GATHER ROUND! For tonight, is the night in which I tell you the tale, of how you all came into existence.. Well, how your great, great, great, great - you get the idea - grandfathers came into being."
The last sentence brought a slight giggle from the mob of small children, only a few of them having reached there teens. But all of them alike shared one thing. A burning anticipation to hear the old man's next story. He would come out of no-where every Friday night. And tell stories for the odd coin. Nobody knew why he did it. Some children speculated that he was being paid by the local school to make history more interesting. Whereas most thought he was simply quite mad, and had a liking for children.
He was a tall, thin man. With a lived in look on his face. With a perpetual grin that had not left him since his first appearance in the small town. He wore very dull robes. Of a deep, muddy brown. The only item upon his personage that seemed to be worth anything; was a long, wooden staff. Ornate, and intricate in it's design. Though he never used it for anything more than a crutch.
Resuming his speech, the old man spoke;
"This is a story, that takes place, -Millions- of years ago. No, I lie. Billions.. In-fact, it took place a number of years so mind-bogglingly huge, that to even ATTEMPT to count it would result in madness. And possibly baldness too. Suffice to say. It was a looooooooong time ago. Back when the creator himself, took the multiverse into his hands like a blank lump of clay. Sculpting trees, mountains, and worlds alike. Winding nature up like a pocket watch. That first turn started everything. You, me, even the Gods themselves all came from his hands. This is the tail, of the nameless ones. The first beings to come into existence. After the creator that is. They were his children. Living proof why some parents eat there young, or at least one of them was.
You see children. The creator, having poured all but a minute portion of his heart and soul into his work. On the tenth day, there was almost nothing left of him. All that was left, was his almighty heart. And knowing his time was near. He took his still beating heart. and sliced it clean in two. Giving birth to them. The two children, supposedly put there to guide life down a peaceful course. And to maintain his work. But there was a problem. He had not foreseen that by splitting himself in half, he would split his personality in half. One child, was sweet, loving, and innocent. Who grew to nurture the worlds. Breathing life into the barren templates her father had forged.
But the other. The boy, was not exactly what you would call a nice person. In-fact, he was downright evil. Embodying all of the dark, vicious aspects of his father. Greed, and anger fueled his actions. He wanted it all for himself. He saw the traces of life his sister had created as insects. Cleaving worlds asunder in his disgust. With a mere gesture, he could abolish worlds. Even the minute power he had been granted by his father was enough to kill with a glance. Reveling in the power-trip. Holding life in the palm of his careless hand.
Seeing her brothers lust for pain, and death. The other child raced to action. Resulting in an apocalyptic battle. Turning the forces of nature against each other. Neither able to harm the other. And so, seeing the damage they were causing. She tore a great rift at the center of the universe. And threw herself, and her brother along with her into it. Re-Writing the very Æther. So that neither of them would ever be able to leave their side of the rift. And devoting her power to suppressing his. Binding them there forever.
That, children. Was how it all began. And to this day, neither of the children has been able to escape. Both having settled down, knowing that they cannot best each other. Both now lie dormant. Waiting, poised to strike. For the other to make a move. But since that time. Without the destructive force of the other child. Life has prospered across the worlds. Magic has been harnessed by our mages. And the forces of nature have been tamed to aid us. But rest assured, if he even stepped out of the great rift. The moment he drew breath, everything we knew would cease to exist. He will only be sated with the complete annihilation of the universe.
Any Questions?" He finished with. His tone of voice rising back from the depths it had lowered too. Causing some of the children to blink with surprise. Pulling them back to reality. And out of their own individual fantastical renditions of the tale they had just heard.
"Well? He who doth not ask. Stays dumb."
The wizened old man spoke, giving a slight chuckle.
"Ah well, I'll give your young minds a chance to recovered from that last drop of information. I know that it's the weekend, and the notion of learning anything ends the moment the school bell rings. You can ask me on the way."
"On the way??"
One of the children asked, in a high-pitched, irritating voice. Filled with excitement, and wonder. The last time the storyteller had taken them somewhere, it had been to a forest, filled with giant beasts, and exotic insects. And with an uncharacteristic display of magic. He had allowed them to walk freely through the normally forbidden forest without any risk at all. The creatures seemed not to notice the children. As if they were invisible.
"We, young man. Pending your parents permission. Are going to the Guymelef tournament in the city."
And before he could even finish the sentence. They erupted into cheers, some of them hugging at his legs in gratitude. It was every child's dream to witness those tournaments. Some of the top players were said to have Melefs so powerful that they could wipe out entire cities without even breaking a sweat. So to speak. The only real guymelef they had ever seen was a mining unit down at the quarry. Which lost its novelty after you realized that it's fighting potential was about as high as a grapefruit if it came up against anything faster than a slug.
"Now children, I want you all to run off to your parents, and demand that if they love you. They will let you go to this tournament, as it's a once in a life-time chance that you'll never ever ever get to see again and if they don't let you go you'll hold your breath till your head turns blue. Meet me back here in an hour with your parents here. I will here it from them alone."
And with that, he dismissed them, wandering off to a shop to buy some provisions for the trip. Laying a large gold coin on the table that made the shop-keepers eyes bulge. And requested for the finest junk-food that the shop could offer. And told the man at the counter that he could keep whatever change there was if he would help carry the assorted bags of sweets out to his transport out back. A large, sleek, metallic ship. Adorned with twin levistones, and a powerful engine at the back, riddled with wind runes, and other magical symbols.
An hour later, a group of irritable parents were gathered around the town square. Some visibly dragged by their children, who were habitually tugging at their mothers and fathers skirt or trousers, to prevent them from leaving. All of whom, though angry they had been dragged down to the town square, knew that the children could not be in safer hands. The old storyteller had been visiting their village for as long as any of them could remember. Yet he never seemed to age. It was well known that he was a very high level mage. He could probably kill them all if he wished. But for some odd reason, he seemed content with spending his weekends telling stories to the children.
Having received each of the parents explicit consent to take their children off to a Guymelef tournament. The most vicious, and spectacular sport in existence. He called them all over to his familiar ship. Adorned with mystic-looking symbols that the children ogled over for the entire trip. When not listening intently to the old man's voice. Trying to soak up every drop of wonder that poured from his near limitless source of legends and myths.
Walking over to the head of his small ship. The old man tapped a pair of inert glyphs, which flared into life. A spherical illusion hovered over the control panel. And with an expert gesture, he rotated the image map, and tapped a course into the sphere. Leading them to the giant dome at the center of the capitol city. And with a low hum of power. All of the runes covering the bulk of the ship lit up simultaneously. And a swirling layer of energy surged out from the front of the ship. Surrounding the entire bulk of the vehicle. And after a few moments, it began to rise. Getting up into the clouds, children waving down at their parents through the transparent barrier. But in the blink of an eye, they were gone. And the landscape was streaming past them at unfathomable speeds to there infantile minds. And after about ten minutes of zooming across the continent. It arrived. Capitol City.
The city looked to be a giant bronze mass. Huge towers, adorned with steam-powered train cars networked around them. All driven by titanic mana batteries. Giant structures that converted sunlight into pure, white mana - to drive the great engines around the city. And at the very heart of the city. The towering mage guild stood tall and proud. Piercing the clouds like a golden javelin. With hundreds of tiny windows covering it's walls. The building was rumored to be even larger than it appeared. The sheer force of the magical energies contained within those walls had distorted time and space itself. With that in mind, nobody really knew how many floors there were. But it was estimated around about a thousand.
But that was not what truly captivated the imagination of the children. It was the dome. The huge, mountain sized dome, within which the legendary tournament would take place. Combatants from all across the universe were gathering to show off their power, with banners strewn across the streets, each devoted to a group, or individual pilot. Shouts from all around, arguing over the possible victors. The tournament was almost about to start. The children were already arguing over who of the contenders in the tournament would win. Each of the top pilots was known far and wide. Word of the tournaments spread faster than thought possible. And the level of obsession some children displayed was almost un-nerving at times.
Pulling up outside the dome. The old man's ship's shield dissipated as they approached ground level. And the children disgorged across the stone floor. Giggling between each other and practically jumping with excitement. And with a slight jump, he landed on the ornate floor. Amidst thousands of other vessels, all having arrived for the same reason. The 756th annual Guymelef Tournament.
"GATHER ROUND CHILDREN!"
The aged voice bellowed. Or at least, attempted to bellow. The man's voice was ancient, but not without humor. A voice every mother, father and child in the small village of Narr knew well. A voice that made it's money, telling stories to children, and other folk alike. A voice that had seen great hardship, and lived to tell the tail with a smile on it's face.
"GATHER ROUND! For tonight, is the night in which I tell you the tale, of how you all came into existence.. Well, how your great, great, great, great - you get the idea - grandfathers came into being."
The last sentence brought a slight giggle from the mob of small children, only a few of them having reached there teens. But all of them alike shared one thing. A burning anticipation to hear the old man's next story. He would come out of no-where every Friday night. And tell stories for the odd coin. Nobody knew why he did it. Some children speculated that he was being paid by the local school to make history more interesting. Whereas most thought he was simply quite mad, and had a liking for children.
He was a tall, thin man. With a lived in look on his face. With a perpetual grin that had not left him since his first appearance in the small town. He wore very dull robes. Of a deep, muddy brown. The only item upon his personage that seemed to be worth anything; was a long, wooden staff. Ornate, and intricate in it's design. Though he never used it for anything more than a crutch.
Resuming his speech, the old man spoke;
"This is a story, that takes place, -Millions- of years ago. No, I lie. Billions.. In-fact, it took place a number of years so mind-bogglingly huge, that to even ATTEMPT to count it would result in madness. And possibly baldness too. Suffice to say. It was a looooooooong time ago. Back when the creator himself, took the multiverse into his hands like a blank lump of clay. Sculpting trees, mountains, and worlds alike. Winding nature up like a pocket watch. That first turn started everything. You, me, even the Gods themselves all came from his hands. This is the tail, of the nameless ones. The first beings to come into existence. After the creator that is. They were his children. Living proof why some parents eat there young, or at least one of them was.
You see children. The creator, having poured all but a minute portion of his heart and soul into his work. On the tenth day, there was almost nothing left of him. All that was left, was his almighty heart. And knowing his time was near. He took his still beating heart. and sliced it clean in two. Giving birth to them. The two children, supposedly put there to guide life down a peaceful course. And to maintain his work. But there was a problem. He had not foreseen that by splitting himself in half, he would split his personality in half. One child, was sweet, loving, and innocent. Who grew to nurture the worlds. Breathing life into the barren templates her father had forged.
But the other. The boy, was not exactly what you would call a nice person. In-fact, he was downright evil. Embodying all of the dark, vicious aspects of his father. Greed, and anger fueled his actions. He wanted it all for himself. He saw the traces of life his sister had created as insects. Cleaving worlds asunder in his disgust. With a mere gesture, he could abolish worlds. Even the minute power he had been granted by his father was enough to kill with a glance. Reveling in the power-trip. Holding life in the palm of his careless hand.
Seeing her brothers lust for pain, and death. The other child raced to action. Resulting in an apocalyptic battle. Turning the forces of nature against each other. Neither able to harm the other. And so, seeing the damage they were causing. She tore a great rift at the center of the universe. And threw herself, and her brother along with her into it. Re-Writing the very Æther. So that neither of them would ever be able to leave their side of the rift. And devoting her power to suppressing his. Binding them there forever.
That, children. Was how it all began. And to this day, neither of the children has been able to escape. Both having settled down, knowing that they cannot best each other. Both now lie dormant. Waiting, poised to strike. For the other to make a move. But since that time. Without the destructive force of the other child. Life has prospered across the worlds. Magic has been harnessed by our mages. And the forces of nature have been tamed to aid us. But rest assured, if he even stepped out of the great rift. The moment he drew breath, everything we knew would cease to exist. He will only be sated with the complete annihilation of the universe.
Any Questions?" He finished with. His tone of voice rising back from the depths it had lowered too. Causing some of the children to blink with surprise. Pulling them back to reality. And out of their own individual fantastical renditions of the tale they had just heard.
"Well? He who doth not ask. Stays dumb."
The wizened old man spoke, giving a slight chuckle.
"Ah well, I'll give your young minds a chance to recovered from that last drop of information. I know that it's the weekend, and the notion of learning anything ends the moment the school bell rings. You can ask me on the way."
"On the way??"
One of the children asked, in a high-pitched, irritating voice. Filled with excitement, and wonder. The last time the storyteller had taken them somewhere, it had been to a forest, filled with giant beasts, and exotic insects. And with an uncharacteristic display of magic. He had allowed them to walk freely through the normally forbidden forest without any risk at all. The creatures seemed not to notice the children. As if they were invisible.
"We, young man. Pending your parents permission. Are going to the Guymelef tournament in the city."
And before he could even finish the sentence. They erupted into cheers, some of them hugging at his legs in gratitude. It was every child's dream to witness those tournaments. Some of the top players were said to have Melefs so powerful that they could wipe out entire cities without even breaking a sweat. So to speak. The only real guymelef they had ever seen was a mining unit down at the quarry. Which lost its novelty after you realized that it's fighting potential was about as high as a grapefruit if it came up against anything faster than a slug.
"Now children, I want you all to run off to your parents, and demand that if they love you. They will let you go to this tournament, as it's a once in a life-time chance that you'll never ever ever get to see again and if they don't let you go you'll hold your breath till your head turns blue. Meet me back here in an hour with your parents here. I will here it from them alone."
And with that, he dismissed them, wandering off to a shop to buy some provisions for the trip. Laying a large gold coin on the table that made the shop-keepers eyes bulge. And requested for the finest junk-food that the shop could offer. And told the man at the counter that he could keep whatever change there was if he would help carry the assorted bags of sweets out to his transport out back. A large, sleek, metallic ship. Adorned with twin levistones, and a powerful engine at the back, riddled with wind runes, and other magical symbols.
An hour later, a group of irritable parents were gathered around the town square. Some visibly dragged by their children, who were habitually tugging at their mothers and fathers skirt or trousers, to prevent them from leaving. All of whom, though angry they had been dragged down to the town square, knew that the children could not be in safer hands. The old storyteller had been visiting their village for as long as any of them could remember. Yet he never seemed to age. It was well known that he was a very high level mage. He could probably kill them all if he wished. But for some odd reason, he seemed content with spending his weekends telling stories to the children.
Having received each of the parents explicit consent to take their children off to a Guymelef tournament. The most vicious, and spectacular sport in existence. He called them all over to his familiar ship. Adorned with mystic-looking symbols that the children ogled over for the entire trip. When not listening intently to the old man's voice. Trying to soak up every drop of wonder that poured from his near limitless source of legends and myths.
Walking over to the head of his small ship. The old man tapped a pair of inert glyphs, which flared into life. A spherical illusion hovered over the control panel. And with an expert gesture, he rotated the image map, and tapped a course into the sphere. Leading them to the giant dome at the center of the capitol city. And with a low hum of power. All of the runes covering the bulk of the ship lit up simultaneously. And a swirling layer of energy surged out from the front of the ship. Surrounding the entire bulk of the vehicle. And after a few moments, it began to rise. Getting up into the clouds, children waving down at their parents through the transparent barrier. But in the blink of an eye, they were gone. And the landscape was streaming past them at unfathomable speeds to there infantile minds. And after about ten minutes of zooming across the continent. It arrived. Capitol City.
The city looked to be a giant bronze mass. Huge towers, adorned with steam-powered train cars networked around them. All driven by titanic mana batteries. Giant structures that converted sunlight into pure, white mana - to drive the great engines around the city. And at the very heart of the city. The towering mage guild stood tall and proud. Piercing the clouds like a golden javelin. With hundreds of tiny windows covering it's walls. The building was rumored to be even larger than it appeared. The sheer force of the magical energies contained within those walls had distorted time and space itself. With that in mind, nobody really knew how many floors there were. But it was estimated around about a thousand.
But that was not what truly captivated the imagination of the children. It was the dome. The huge, mountain sized dome, within which the legendary tournament would take place. Combatants from all across the universe were gathering to show off their power, with banners strewn across the streets, each devoted to a group, or individual pilot. Shouts from all around, arguing over the possible victors. The tournament was almost about to start. The children were already arguing over who of the contenders in the tournament would win. Each of the top pilots was known far and wide. Word of the tournaments spread faster than thought possible. And the level of obsession some children displayed was almost un-nerving at times.
Pulling up outside the dome. The old man's ship's shield dissipated as they approached ground level. And the children disgorged across the stone floor. Giggling between each other and practically jumping with excitement. And with a slight jump, he landed on the ornate floor. Amidst thousands of other vessels, all having arrived for the same reason. The 756th annual Guymelef Tournament.