DISCLAIMER: X-Men:Evo belongs to Warner Bros. And Marvel Comics. I have never, and shall never own them, no matter how much I may want to. I've simply warped them to fit my own twisted mind. However, this fic and any original work herein is officially mine, and anyone trying to steal it will find out how painful a weapon a computer mouse can when used by someone with imagination.
WARNINGS: This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Everything has been transplanted into a fantasy universe of my creation. Inspirations, despite what you might initially think, aren't actually from a certain Peter-Jackson-esque film, since I started work on this before I ever *saw* that movie. Influences rather include Internutter's spiffy fic 'Mein Teuful' (if you haven't yet read this then go do it *now*!) and various other sources I'll explain later.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just bear with me a moment. This Interlude may seem tedious, but it's actually vitally important to the rest of the story. My advice - make a copy or printout of this page and keep it for later, 'cause several chapters ahead basically hinge on it. I'll let you know when to have your copy ready. Btw. Thanx to all who reviewed the Prologue. I never dreamed I'd have such a positive response so early on. Hopefully you'll all like the rest of the fic just as much.
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'Of Beast And Blade' By Scribbler
Interlude ~ 'It All Began With A Letter'
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'Truthful words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not truthful. Good words are not persuasive; persuasive words are not good.' -- Lao-Tzu
*******************
To my dearest Temple Mother,
I shall not bother you with the pleasantries I would usually write here, for my time is short and I grow weaker with every word written. Know only this - we are all in grave and terrible danger.
*He* is coming.
His magic has afflicted us here at the House of Loerl. He means to steal my work, though how he came to hear of it I shall never know. Already the servants are all dead, and many of our scholarly order have followed them through the Gates of Darkness. The Looking Portal in my study tells me that His forces are near. So very near. Their shields betray them with their crest - a silver sword wreathed in fire; I greatly wish you never to see such a beautifully horrifying design, my friend - but I know that he does not care whether we know of his coming or not. We are too few and too weak to fight him now. His magic had done its work.
We are finished here.
The messengers think it only Shaking Sickness that has struck our House, and I dare not tell them any different; for if they were to know the truth they would abandon us, I'm sure, and this letter *must* reach you before it is too late.
He has done this to us because he knows of the prophecy of Calorsiel, and wants it for himself. I cannot stop him from obtaining the original tablet, but I will thwart his designs with the last of my strength by sending you this sole translation. I only hope my assistant, Maya - may the gods rest her soul - was able to destroy her copy before she too was struck down by this terrible illness His magic has sent down upon us. I haven't the power to check, and so must simply trust that she was successful and He will not receive anything that he might use to His advantage. It will take His inferior scholars many months to translate such difficult text, and thus buy you some time, my friend.
Listen to me. Even with my dying breath I seek to put down any scholars not of Loerl. I would laugh, but the messenger - Darin. Do you remember him from your last visit to us? He was a mere boy then, but bears the strapping frame of his father now - grows impatient to be off. I have shielded my Looking Portal from him, but he senses that something is awry. Luckily he is loyal enough to carry out this last task for me before I grant him his freedom.
Ramnet Calorsiel did indeed hold the key, just as you told me so long ago. I didn't believe you then - oh, what a fool I was. I, like so many other arrogant fools, thought Calorsiel a liar. A charlatan parading as a visionary. But I shall rectify my mistakes now, and hope that this information helps you thwart the plans of Belvedere before they can reach fruition.
He *must* be stopped. His forces are too great as it is, and they grow larger every day. His touch withers the land, and there is talk that His reach has gone far beyond the southern lands now - you know well of the place I imply. The place of which nobody speaks, lest its inhabitants come a calling for their blood.
Earth-Realm's only hope is the prophecy, and so I send it to you, dear Temple Mother. I know you will keep it safe and search for the saviour in my stead. That I had listened to you before, perhaps this could all have been averted.... but I dawdle. Darin taps his foot at me, as well he might. Here is the translation of which I spoke. May it prove more useful for you than I and those of our doomed House.
The Calorsiel Texts
In years to come, when ships no longer harbour at my dusky shore,
And I no longer walk the golden skyways of the astral heavens;
Chaos will once again seize these lands.
Brother shall fight brother, and families be rent asunder by the power of the shining blade.
Skeins of scarlet will rule the air, reeking of hate and malice,
As the Seven Hells invade Earth-Realm, and Earth-Realm becomes the Eighth Hell.
When one danger leads to another greater
A silver shadow will enshroud the fate of millions.
From sundown to sunup all will be blood,
And the sky will burn red with the flames of despair.
Fie on thee who scorn my words, for thou shalt be the first to fall to this most subtle foe.
He who creeps like mist into corrupt hearts,
And worms into the apple of the world as a tainted boon.
Doomed art thou who sup from his cup, for he gives nothing, but takes all.
Yet from these ill-fated ashes there will arise
A saviour of old; reborn to strive our cause, but deadly to our eyes.
Demons will join the Jinrui,
And salvation shall come from the heart of the Pehora.
It is she who will begin all and begin new.
One with the spirit of the wildfire and beauty of the crimson blade.
The counterfeit coin; unwilling turncoat,
Who battles monsters of forgotten yore in a carriage drawn by a stallion of brimstone,
To avenge those lost and succeed those who live.
Heed me now, or forever more regret inaction.
Look for one whom once was hunter, but is now the hunted.
One who searches for heritage, and finds it in the meeting of two star-crossed souls.
To add, one more; who was made by he she strives to quell,
Her creator and destroyer combined.
The enemy imbued her, and so she shall turn her gifts to his defeat.
A law unto themselves; Death, Love and Hope,
With eyes of fire and precious metal,
Shall come as one, to be reborn as that which has been and shall be again,
And with one hand to stay the power of the glittering darkness.
Seek out the fallen one, o saviour,
Who sups of the skies to bring panacea to she who stands alone,
And aids her as the silver wrath draws near.
A lion's roar shall herald the hour of their rebirth,
But be warned, for salvation comes at a terrible price.
Death is the end, and yet through it we shall be saved,
And the guilty sent to burn in the light of destiny.
*******************
As you can see, dear Temple Mother, it is not quite finished. Some words we simply could not fathom, and I fear mistakes have been made along the way that I have no time to remedy now. I would lament for more days but it is useless. All prayer in Earth-Realm would not buy the House of Loerl another sunrise. He has seen to that.
Darin looks at me now and glances out of the window. Had I not known better then I would wager he too knows of the Silver Army and their journey hence. And so I shall now depart, both in body and in spirit. I will not give them the satisfaction of killing me when they arrive. No, no. My life is still my own to do with what I will.
Do not weep for me, dearest Temple Mother, for I am already dead. I can only pray that this letter reaches you in time. I beg of you, please spread the word amongst your Initiates. The saviour must be found, and many hands will complete the task more swiftly than if you work alone. Pride is a terrible thing, as I have found out to my cost.
I know you would not gloat, but still, I plead your forgiveness that I flouted your counsel and discarded Ramnet Calorsiel so callously as a fraud. For what I could have prevented, I am truly, truly sorry. Words will never be able to convey the remorse I feel. I have doomed my House and our order, but I shall *not* doom the rest of Earth-Realm.
My quill is heavy, and my eyelids droop. I am not to remain for much longer. Darin will help me to my bed and final resting, for my weary feet cannot make the short trip, and he will not see me die so ungraciously in my chair. It is strange, for I am only ten years his senior, yet I move now like an old woman on his shoulder. But such is the fate of those who bear the mantle of Shaking Sickness. I am actually surprised of my wakefulness this long, and can only hope that the gods have smiled upon me long enough to complete my last chore.
Be safe and free, my friend. Be safe and free. All our hopes depend now on you.
Yours,
Halthor Umar
Head Scholar of the House of Loerl,
First academic order of Earth-Realm.
*******************
WARNINGS: This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Everything has been transplanted into a fantasy universe of my creation. Inspirations, despite what you might initially think, aren't actually from a certain Peter-Jackson-esque film, since I started work on this before I ever *saw* that movie. Influences rather include Internutter's spiffy fic 'Mein Teuful' (if you haven't yet read this then go do it *now*!) and various other sources I'll explain later.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just bear with me a moment. This Interlude may seem tedious, but it's actually vitally important to the rest of the story. My advice - make a copy or printout of this page and keep it for later, 'cause several chapters ahead basically hinge on it. I'll let you know when to have your copy ready. Btw. Thanx to all who reviewed the Prologue. I never dreamed I'd have such a positive response so early on. Hopefully you'll all like the rest of the fic just as much.
*******************
'Of Beast And Blade' By Scribbler
Interlude ~ 'It All Began With A Letter'
*******************
'Truthful words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not truthful. Good words are not persuasive; persuasive words are not good.' -- Lao-Tzu
*******************
To my dearest Temple Mother,
I shall not bother you with the pleasantries I would usually write here, for my time is short and I grow weaker with every word written. Know only this - we are all in grave and terrible danger.
*He* is coming.
His magic has afflicted us here at the House of Loerl. He means to steal my work, though how he came to hear of it I shall never know. Already the servants are all dead, and many of our scholarly order have followed them through the Gates of Darkness. The Looking Portal in my study tells me that His forces are near. So very near. Their shields betray them with their crest - a silver sword wreathed in fire; I greatly wish you never to see such a beautifully horrifying design, my friend - but I know that he does not care whether we know of his coming or not. We are too few and too weak to fight him now. His magic had done its work.
We are finished here.
The messengers think it only Shaking Sickness that has struck our House, and I dare not tell them any different; for if they were to know the truth they would abandon us, I'm sure, and this letter *must* reach you before it is too late.
He has done this to us because he knows of the prophecy of Calorsiel, and wants it for himself. I cannot stop him from obtaining the original tablet, but I will thwart his designs with the last of my strength by sending you this sole translation. I only hope my assistant, Maya - may the gods rest her soul - was able to destroy her copy before she too was struck down by this terrible illness His magic has sent down upon us. I haven't the power to check, and so must simply trust that she was successful and He will not receive anything that he might use to His advantage. It will take His inferior scholars many months to translate such difficult text, and thus buy you some time, my friend.
Listen to me. Even with my dying breath I seek to put down any scholars not of Loerl. I would laugh, but the messenger - Darin. Do you remember him from your last visit to us? He was a mere boy then, but bears the strapping frame of his father now - grows impatient to be off. I have shielded my Looking Portal from him, but he senses that something is awry. Luckily he is loyal enough to carry out this last task for me before I grant him his freedom.
Ramnet Calorsiel did indeed hold the key, just as you told me so long ago. I didn't believe you then - oh, what a fool I was. I, like so many other arrogant fools, thought Calorsiel a liar. A charlatan parading as a visionary. But I shall rectify my mistakes now, and hope that this information helps you thwart the plans of Belvedere before they can reach fruition.
He *must* be stopped. His forces are too great as it is, and they grow larger every day. His touch withers the land, and there is talk that His reach has gone far beyond the southern lands now - you know well of the place I imply. The place of which nobody speaks, lest its inhabitants come a calling for their blood.
Earth-Realm's only hope is the prophecy, and so I send it to you, dear Temple Mother. I know you will keep it safe and search for the saviour in my stead. That I had listened to you before, perhaps this could all have been averted.... but I dawdle. Darin taps his foot at me, as well he might. Here is the translation of which I spoke. May it prove more useful for you than I and those of our doomed House.
The Calorsiel Texts
In years to come, when ships no longer harbour at my dusky shore,
And I no longer walk the golden skyways of the astral heavens;
Chaos will once again seize these lands.
Brother shall fight brother, and families be rent asunder by the power of the shining blade.
Skeins of scarlet will rule the air, reeking of hate and malice,
As the Seven Hells invade Earth-Realm, and Earth-Realm becomes the Eighth Hell.
When one danger leads to another greater
A silver shadow will enshroud the fate of millions.
From sundown to sunup all will be blood,
And the sky will burn red with the flames of despair.
Fie on thee who scorn my words, for thou shalt be the first to fall to this most subtle foe.
He who creeps like mist into corrupt hearts,
And worms into the apple of the world as a tainted boon.
Doomed art thou who sup from his cup, for he gives nothing, but takes all.
Yet from these ill-fated ashes there will arise
A saviour of old; reborn to strive our cause, but deadly to our eyes.
Demons will join the Jinrui,
And salvation shall come from the heart of the Pehora.
It is she who will begin all and begin new.
One with the spirit of the wildfire and beauty of the crimson blade.
The counterfeit coin; unwilling turncoat,
Who battles monsters of forgotten yore in a carriage drawn by a stallion of brimstone,
To avenge those lost and succeed those who live.
Heed me now, or forever more regret inaction.
Look for one whom once was hunter, but is now the hunted.
One who searches for heritage, and finds it in the meeting of two star-crossed souls.
To add, one more; who was made by he she strives to quell,
Her creator and destroyer combined.
The enemy imbued her, and so she shall turn her gifts to his defeat.
A law unto themselves; Death, Love and Hope,
With eyes of fire and precious metal,
Shall come as one, to be reborn as that which has been and shall be again,
And with one hand to stay the power of the glittering darkness.
Seek out the fallen one, o saviour,
Who sups of the skies to bring panacea to she who stands alone,
And aids her as the silver wrath draws near.
A lion's roar shall herald the hour of their rebirth,
But be warned, for salvation comes at a terrible price.
Death is the end, and yet through it we shall be saved,
And the guilty sent to burn in the light of destiny.
*******************
As you can see, dear Temple Mother, it is not quite finished. Some words we simply could not fathom, and I fear mistakes have been made along the way that I have no time to remedy now. I would lament for more days but it is useless. All prayer in Earth-Realm would not buy the House of Loerl another sunrise. He has seen to that.
Darin looks at me now and glances out of the window. Had I not known better then I would wager he too knows of the Silver Army and their journey hence. And so I shall now depart, both in body and in spirit. I will not give them the satisfaction of killing me when they arrive. No, no. My life is still my own to do with what I will.
Do not weep for me, dearest Temple Mother, for I am already dead. I can only pray that this letter reaches you in time. I beg of you, please spread the word amongst your Initiates. The saviour must be found, and many hands will complete the task more swiftly than if you work alone. Pride is a terrible thing, as I have found out to my cost.
I know you would not gloat, but still, I plead your forgiveness that I flouted your counsel and discarded Ramnet Calorsiel so callously as a fraud. For what I could have prevented, I am truly, truly sorry. Words will never be able to convey the remorse I feel. I have doomed my House and our order, but I shall *not* doom the rest of Earth-Realm.
My quill is heavy, and my eyelids droop. I am not to remain for much longer. Darin will help me to my bed and final resting, for my weary feet cannot make the short trip, and he will not see me die so ungraciously in my chair. It is strange, for I am only ten years his senior, yet I move now like an old woman on his shoulder. But such is the fate of those who bear the mantle of Shaking Sickness. I am actually surprised of my wakefulness this long, and can only hope that the gods have smiled upon me long enough to complete my last chore.
Be safe and free, my friend. Be safe and free. All our hopes depend now on you.
Yours,
Halthor Umar
Head Scholar of the House of Loerl,
First academic order of Earth-Realm.
*******************