1Distorted Wings

Welcome, readers. . I'm very pleased you decided to read the story that I've been slaving on for...er, a long time now. xx;; Timeless Nightmares is probably going to be on hiatus, but not a permanent hiatus. I enjoy writing it, but I just need a break from it.

I put a lot of effort into this, so even the smallest review will make me tremendously pleased. Don't be scared, folks...I don't bite. Well, only my siblings, but ANY-way...

This story's plot isn't very conventional by most standards here. Still, I hope people shall enjoy what it has to offer. It's an alternate universe fic, and there will be spoilers for Baten Kaitos. Now don't flame me.

Now, allow me to round this stupid ramble up with a couple more things. Yay.

Firstly, I don't own Baten Kaitos. Namco/Nintendo does, depending on which game you're talking about. Blah, blah, blah, you know the laws.

Secondly, this fanfic is by DeathReaper, aka the one who's writing this. If you use/steal it without my permission...I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN. YOU CAN'T HIDE!

Finally, that speech is over with. Thank god. Now, if you went through all that, your special reward is the prologue. Whee.

In the eternal instant before the Beginning, before Chronos itself was pronounced in a mighty explosion, long before the tiny ash of history came to settle from the flames, something whose actions no verb can truly describe seemed to enfold possibility, to surround in it the manner of an idea, and fashioned out of the flames two creatures.

Two Gods.

Two rulers.

Darkness and Light.

Aeitanu...and Dantanu.

Aeitanu came to be known in legends as a Phoenix, a legacy of fury, resurrection and Destruction. The legendary being of the shrieking, hellish flames and passionate fury of mighty stars, she was full of wrath, showing no mercy. One gentle flap of one of her eight wings could blow a house off its foundations, stir a tranquil spark into howling, snarling, crackling frenzy and create a howling firestorm that the likes of Man had never seen. She was of fire and heat, the roaring, merciless flames of cores of the Sun. She was the Void.

Dantanu came to be known as the Whale, a legend of glory, life and Creation. The whale swam gloriously through beautifully-made depths of the ocean, leapt through the clear blue skies, and sang wondrous, peaceful songs. He could bring down raging storms and hurricanes and leave behind a blasted, dead and withered land… but he could also create life anew, in the neverending dreams of death and rebirth. He was of light and water, the subtle lights seen within thunderstorms and the currents of the waters. He was the Heaven.

Darkness and Light.

Aeitanu and Dantanu...the ultimate balance of the universe, maintaining the opposing forces of order and chaos. Destruction and Creation. Dantanu created the stars that burned brightly in the dark void of destruction created by Aeitanu.

Together they created a world, and stirred life into it…and were witness to the follies of Man…

Prologue: Ballad of an Earth Child

The city had become a cauldron of fire.

The streets were crazily jammed with large, bulky metal vehicles, all of them silent and hollow. Their owners were dead or had fled, and thick smoke rolled down the crammed streets, creating a sooty haze that choked the air. Broken glass glittered on the ground, blazing crimson as they reflected the flames. Slabs of torn highway were wedged into the burning streets like broken stepping-stones.

The broken buildings rested in a deep stillness, fire lapping their mangled metal and girders. Black smoke slinked away from the horrendous land. An ancient bell, torn from its perch, swung gently in the wind, its hollow ringing looming over the dead city like the trumpet at judgment day.

The sky was a fury of red and orange, rippling and twisting flames, howling as they hungrily devoured the air, casting a demonic, sinister orange glow upon the ruined skeletons of skyscrapers and the blasted frames of cars. The charred corpses of humans sat slumped inside the machines, blackened bones jutting through grey, flaky ashes that had once been flesh.

In the rubble-strewn streets, a lone figure moved among the smoke and the burning wreckage.

He had a defined pace, walking crisply and sharply, not looking back once as he weaved a path around the former cars. The heat of the flames should have stewed his stomach and baked his brains, but he was unaffected by them. He stood, his several dark robes swaying in the wind, as he seemed to look around the city. One of his hands was wrapped in a white bandage, although there seemed to be no wounds underneath.

He could have been handsome, if it weren't for the odd wooden mask that obscured his face. The skin that was visible under his robes glazed with sweat and gleamed with the orange light cast by the fire.

His other hand clutched a small, half-full sack. The sack was held close to his body, as if he were protecting it. Something was inside the bag, the mouth of it bound with several knots of twine. As it moved, quiet, barely audible clinks could be heard.

The man stared at the city all around him, and turned his face up to the savage sky that blazed, coating him with furnace heat.

He laughed.

It was a savage, triumphant laugh that pierced the dull roar of the crackling flames, a wild, howling laugh. The man began to do a shuffling, victorious dance on the hot, shimmering asphalt while the wind blew sparks and smoke across the street. The blackened teeth of the ruined buildings tore at the sky. Only the grinning, blackened corpses in the cars witnessed the spectacle.

"The time of chaos has just begun! Malpercio may be sealed away, but it shall rise yet again! So it has been said, so it has been written, so it shall be and will ever be! All the misled children of the skies shall soon open the path of the nightmarish void! And that will be when you see the true power of Aeitanu! The Gods will strike again, and this time, show no mercy!"

He danced. His feet bumped up and down on the asphalt in an almost drunken manner. His robe flapped wildly. His sack clinked and clanked with glee. The unraveling ends of the bandage fluttered in the hot breath of the wind.

As he danced, he sang monotonously, the same words over and over. His voice was soft and low.

"Burning wings, burning wings, o bump-ity, bump! Burning wings, burning wings, o bump-ity, bump!" Each final "bump!" was followed by a little skipping leap until the heat made everything swim and he stopped, his heart thundering crazily in his arid chest. Grinning, he reached into the bag, opening it with his bandaged hand, and touched the sacred object within. He nodded, after making sure everything was there.

"Lovely…" he whispered, clutching the bag to his chest, eyes squeezed shut. After staying in this pose for a while, he trudged along among the flames of the city.

If one had looked into the sky at that very moment, they might have seen wings, several distorted wings, but for just a fraction of a second before they retreated into the heart of a dying land.