Post by Reno on Nov 7, 2010 20:20:03 GMT -5
Hatori still remembered the first day he met her.
The love of his life.
The two-leggeds, better known as humans – or as they best preferred to boast masters – were the ones dejecting them all to this… this disgusting, terrible, disrespectful sham of a life. He didn’t know what life was like before this, nor did his father, who – generation after generation – they had lived like this. Had no one ever told him things had been different, could he believe things could be something other than what they were.
His father, who passed down the stories of his father, who passed down the stories of his father and so on and so forth, told him of a world beyond the stars. It wasn’t something magnificent, like this world was, with lush green grasses and running streams and fountains that glimmered with magic itself. Yet somehow still, Hatori was captivated by the land that he and the rest of them used to call home. Stone houses, carved thousands of years ago by their ancestors out of mountains, formed a circular pattern in nothing but a barren wasteland.
That was right. A desert. They lived on a desert, where the sand dunes stretched for miles and the sandstorms were rough but bracing. In that world, they thrived. Like Norn, this terrible world, their centerpiece was a fountain but theirs did not spit water, but rather sand. It really all sounded quite glorious! And as his father explained the windows made not of glass but clear quartz, the doors and furniture of metal, the knobs and accessories of fine gems, Hatori’s snakish tail would wag, and he’d eagerly ask his father to get to the best part.
The best part – Hatori’s favorite – was the reason they could live upon such a green-less land. Trees. So few in number, they could be counted upon one paw - though there was a rumor of an oasis, something so glorious no one had ever gone and returned to tell the tale of it, where there were at least a hundred trees and a pond of fish. Trees were blessed things in their land – never to be tampered with and always valued – and to have even a piece of wood, using a naturally fallen branch, meant you had strength and power and the upmost respect. And, in their family, of which had been once ranked one of the highest in their land, they had a piece of wood – a sacred piece. A music-maker, long, hollow and thin, with holes for air to easily pass through – better known as a flute.
And Hatori would go to sleep at nights, curled up between his mother’s belly and his brother’s left paw, dreaming of holding this flute as if this sign of their royalty would be enough to have the two-leggeds unlock their cages. And he would guide his family out of their cages, out into the world, out of Norn and to somewhere better. Somewhere where they could be as they were meant to be.
His father called them Atterians. It was a name they all knew, but no one else heard. No, the names everyone knew them by, those were the ones Hatori most heard: Beasts. Monsters. Renki.
Renki. It was too foreign a word for his ‘almighty masters’ to use – no it was only ever uttered by the ones with wings; the blessed. It meant one who could not be loved and one who could never love.
But Hatori knew this was widely untrue. If not because of his father, his mother, or even his big brother, he learned it because of himself.
And that was the day he met her. Ida Tellus. Blood-bonding – the Atterian form of marriage – was not permitted, but even still, she took his last name, proud and honored to have it.
The two-leggeds… it was possibly the only thing he could ever be ‘grateful’ for from them. To keep their supply of little pets handy, they tried to force the mating process. Stick a male and a female in a barn stable together during the right season – it was sure to work, right? But, even with the urge making it near painful to resist every female they threw at him, he refused. His brother and he, they agreed they would not soil the Tellus name by being just another beast for these squishy, pale, hairless creatures to use. They would walk on four legs, like they deemed, but beyond that they did their best to cause a little mayhem every now and again and resist as much as could be allowed. This… this monstrosity of a brothel was just one thing he could not partake in. Even a few of the more forward ones had to go running and whining at the door to be let out when he snapped and threatened their necks.
And then, for some odd reason, they threw her in.
He lay on the straw, almost boredly, long tail flicking back and forth, looking again at the high walls of the little prison as if he could find a way out, when his ears twitched as the door screeched on its hinges and they dragged in yet another bitch he was sure to turn away, the creature hardly putting up a struggle as she was ushered – actually USHERED, how disgustingly weak – in by her collar. And then the door was shut.
He rose his head from his paws and looked at her. And then, he REALLY looked at her. The smell of her was strong – but even during this season when she should be in heat, there was nothing but fear in its place. Her tail, cut brutally short, was tucked between her legs as she huddled in a corner – a causality of living. They did it to them all, the horror of the surgery enough to break some of them – even he held the marks of what the two-leggeds took from them.
And as he stood, she could quickly see what that was as he limped towards her. Scars were at the back of each paw, where his sixth claw, like a demonic back claw of a bird, had been. The removal of them had left him without the ability to run ever again. But that was not all – his two top canines, meant to be long saber-teeth, had been pulled. Twice. Now, he just had two gaps there, though luckily this did not inhibit his ability to eat.
When he got near her, this little black wolf with her ears down and her attempt to look so small, she flinched. But unlike last time, this did not bother him. Suddenly her weakness was endearing. Suddenly… he wanted to protect her. “Don’t worry,” He murmured, licking one downed ear, “I won’t hurt you.” He laid down beside her, his tail wrapping around her. “What’s your name?”
“I-I-Ida.”
That day, they spoke. He remembered her telling him how she didn’t feel fit to be a mother, and had lost her children before, three of them, but if she didn’t produce one…
Oh, he knew what they would do. They’d scrape her. They’d work her to the bone in hard labor since she didn’t need to be protected for motherhood until she, most likely, died prematurely.
And that was too terrible an ending for such a precious, beautiful creature. Hatori refused to stand for that.
Ninth and a half months after that meeting, little Terra was born. And Hatori saw her and him for the first time in their human forms, because an animal could not birth a non-animal. It was the only time Atterians were permitted this luxury – and only then when they were locked away from curious eyes. No one was permitted to know they could look like them. In most cases, it was even forbidden for them to speak in their tongue in their presence, but such a secret was not as heavily guarded.
And, if he was good and did his labor as was assigned, he would get to sleep with his family. His brother would have been disappointed in him – or maybe proud of him for taking care of his mate and son. Had he known of course that he even had a nephew and a sister-in-law. But no, shortly at the beginning of his mate trials, as an act of punishment, they sold his brother away. But Terra was still their kin, and now it was up to him to teach him the meaning of the name Tellus.
Terra, his son.
Terra still remembered the first day he saw one of them.
A blessed.
It could also, and was more rightfully so, pronounced blesséd with an accent to make it seem even more impressive than it already was.
It had been just shortly after his transformation. Ah, yes, he remembered that terrible time. His father, every morning before he was taken away, would give his mother a kiss and him a pat on the head, promising to be back that night for dinner. Sometimes he would try to make his father stay, would hold onto his paw or his ear or his tail, because nothing ever was bad when his dad was around. But even if his father tried to stay, the two-leggeds dragged them apart. And then he was gone and that was when the trainers came.
His mother, at first, fought them. He’d never seen her so fierce. But they beat her back – made sure she didn’t get the idea to do it again. She told him to fight it, as long as he could. So they could stay out of the fields and live like a real family just a bit longer. He did. He fought it, as long as he could. Ran away from the sharp picks that poked his body, rolled away from the shocks from the metal staffs, and curled in a ball and held his ears when they kicked and hit and yelled ‘Change, change, CHANGE!’ He never knew that, not only where they trying to force him into his bestial form, but they were also teaching him obedience.
But, after three full years of that, it happened. He couldn’t stop it when it occurred, the fury of being kicked and poked and shocked on a daily basis – and watching the same happen to his brothers and sisters and family all around him! No, he hated this. He hated them. And he would not let them hurt them anymore!
And with those final thoughts, and his mother’s anguished howls, he changed. He was just a small little wolf pup – but the sight of him made his mother cry. He felt horribly, knowing he had failed her. But it was not his change that made her cry – no it was him. The sight of him – or rather the sight of what they were going to DO to him. Eleven spikes jutting from his spine and two tiny bull horns jutted from his temples. She knew what was coming next, the pain of losing her own tail as fresh of a memory as if it had happened yesterday, and continued to screech and holler and howl as they snatched up her son by one of his new horns and took him away.
“MAMA! MAMAAAAAAA!” Terra screamed and that was the last time he would see her for a few days.
It was excruciating. He knew he would never forget it. Not enough anesthesia for a full numbness, so when they reaaaallly got down to the bone of his spine and skull, tearing out those spikes and horns to their very roots so they would never grow back, pain rocketed through him like nothing else. He had huge gaps in his memory, so he was sure he had slept during some of the procedure, though he never remembered feeling rested.
And then, he remembered waking up to a more pleasant, though different, place. His mother’s rough tongue, and his father’s rumbling voice stirred him. When they saw his eyes open, they looked so happy, and he wondered, if between all this, he had learned something that pleased them. The last lesson his mother was giving him was about letters, by shaping them out with her fingers in the dust. Human things – but things that would aid him as well. To be able to read was a luxury and a rarity. And it gave them, if only slight, some power in this mad world.
He wouldn’t realize until many years later that they were not happy – they were relieved. Relieved he would live.
He spent the next few weeks in their new home – a slightly less spacious barn but still ever close to his mother who was in charge of tending to him and his wounds while still his father worked. This place, this new place, was so different from the place he knew before yet it was ironically exactly the same. They were still his brothers and sisters, his family. But they were older – almost all of them older than him. And unlike those in the room before, these brethren of his could not ever become human again. It was now treason for them – for he as well – to turn back.
Ever.
And yet, sometimes, when no one was looking, his father did. His mother nor he were never meant to know this secret. He always changed when the moon was high and nearly all were asleep, stretching his limbs and walking about. Terra caught him only once, his body injured, his sleep restless – and one day he woke up, just in time to see his father change. He always found it strange he was not… furry like his mother who, when human, kept her wolfen ears and her half-tail and even her claws and sharp fangs. But his father… he could almost pass as a human. Almost – if not for those gold, gold eyes. He never let him know he knew, pretended to sleep when his father came back to bed. He already knew he would never tell a soul – he had to protect his own.
As it was, the first few days in his new home were uneventful. He spent a lot of it asleep, bandages wrapped securely around his midsection and the crown of his head that were changed semi-regularly. He remembered that morning though. It was just shortly after a bandage change, so his mother was sniffing him all over and staying nearer to him that was necessary, when a two-legged, one of their ‘masters’ came running down the line of cages, banging a shovel against the bars of their caged doors and yelling such things as “Behave!” and “Act in line!” Terra had no idea what was happening; all he knew was all that noise was giving him a headache and making his already sore body ache.
And then, they came. Their power was so prominent, it was like he could taste it in the air. It made him feel dizzy and he had to shut his eyes.
When he next opened them, he saw, holding onto the bars of their door with extreme interest, three young boys. At first, he didn’t see anything that was different between them and any other two-legged sapling. But, when his eyes focused, he saw them, fluttering at their backs, so thin they were almost see-through.
Wings. Big, beautiful wings.
Two of them were identical in every way, same blonde hair and same blue eyes. The only difference was their wings – one merely swirls of blacks and whites and the other a blast of fiery reds and oranges. Between them, leaning so close his face was smooshed in the bars, his wild brown spikes only as impressive as the colorful blues and yellows of his wings.
“Daah, look at the little one! It’s so cute!” The blue-boy spoke. “I hope it’s okay though…”
“Remember what Volken said. It’s gonna grow up to be a Renki.” The white one scoffed and even for his young age, he could put on a good sneer.
The boy beside him gasped, “Rox! Mommy doesn’t want you saying such things, remember?”
“Mommy isn’t here.”
“Come on boys!” A voice of another yelled though he did not see him.
“Coming!” Two voices called, and the two who had spoken went running away. But the third one – the red one – he stayed. If but for a few moments, gripping onto the bars like the blue one had and leaning closer.
“Hey there… You alright?”
Terra’s ears perked up, before he slowly lifted his head. And, thought he wasn’t sure why he cared what this little blonde pixie thought of him, he smiled, his jaw dropping and tongue lolling out in an adorable expression that made the boy hold his mouth and giggle. And then another call drew him away this time and he was gone and Terra hid his head in his paws when his mother growled at him, tucking his tail underneath him so she couldn’t see it wagging. And then, when his father came home and found out, he enlightened Terra of exactly who Blessed were and the young pup hung his head in shame as he learned the awful, ugly truth. They were no one to be empathetic with. They were the ones who sentenced them to this hellish life. Were the ones to decree such awful pains on himself and his family and all those he cared about.
And he would never forgive them.
Sora still remembered the first day his father told him the story.
The Story of the Fountain Guardians.
They were known by a dozen other names too – each unique and special and, sadly, lost to the dust of history.
Therefore, even still now, they are known simply as Fountain Guardians. No one actually knew, for certain, if actual beings lived within these fountains – or what they might look like. Though one thing all Shee knew that they were built upon the great keys; weapons of incredible power and magical properties. Then again, that too had been questioned. Really, the fountains were ‘all just kid stories’. Things to tell the young Shee before bedtime to fill their dreams with wonder and magic.
But it wasn’t just any story that fascinated Sora – it was one in particular. Each fountain had its own special story to it – in fact most had several. Except, of course, for the center fountain which everyone knew was created by the sacrifice of the first black and white winged Shee. That center fountain, now the center of their world, was said to hold within the magic to allow Shee to live among each other and to uphold their peace and inner Balance.
But, though he respected that fountain and the ancient magic it held, that was not the story his father first told him – even if that was traditional. No, instead, one late night when Soran was found restlessly wandering their vast home by his father, working late yet again on some council meeting and just returning, he brought his son to the kitchen for a warm drink to help him sleep and told him about the Fountain of Twilight, that holds power over the crescent moon and ocean.
In his dad’s version, it was said that this fountain, built closest to the river just beyond the city walls, guarded the stars and the invisible sea. Norn had no ocean, so at first, Sora thought this was strange – but his father explained that all water flowed to the ocean and, whether Norn had one or not, the river was flowing away from Norn, journeying somewhere far and wonderful. It made sense at that young age and, when Sora shut his eyes, he could almost imagine it. Just like the pictures of Latium’s fancy books, a nice beach, beautiful seashells, rolling waves. The river, giving to the ocean, a never-ending supply of water.
As for the moon, that was tied into the ocean – but , as if only guided the crescent moon, the fountain’s power often translated to ‘the guide of the gently, rolling waves’. That often lead to the belief that this fountain held power over time or, the purpose of his father telling him this story in the first place, a good night of restful sleep.
And, after telling of its purpose, despite the late hour, Jet bundled up his son into his arms and flew him out to see the fountain. He sat his son down on the edge of the fountain, and pointed up where the water was spouting at the top. And, looking up at it in the dark of the night, Sora smiled, knowing why it was called the Twilight fountain. Because, with the darkness all around, and only in the faint light of the night sky, the water spouting from the top caught it just perfectly, looking rather wondrous – as if the fountain was shooting up silver stars, little falling meteors, an endless supply for the velvet canvas of sky when sun falls.
It was something Sora knew he’d never forget.
There, his father finished the fairytale. Of course, being a dad, he first made sure that his boy was keeping up with his history.
“Now, you remember how the humans of this world and the Shee came together, correct?”
“Ummm…” Sora concentrated very hard, his eyes crossing some as he thought. Latium hadn’t taught it that long, had he? “It had to do with Connection 1 and 2… and they went uhhh…” He shrugged and slapped his hands together, because that IS what Latium had done to emphasize his point but he could not remember what he was emphasizing anymore.
Jet chuckled in amusement. “Well, yes. Unforeseeably, these two connections collided – drawn together by the space of a black hole. If it was not because of Isis’, a black-winged Shee, destructive prophecy we would not have gotten there in time. The smaller worlds did not survive – or rather they could not be allowed to survive as their tiny mass could not withstand the gravity of the larger planets. They were being drawn in and would have collided – so we had to evacuate the people and animals from these worlds and destroy the planets before they could do disorderly harm. We took all we saved back to Norn. Before we could find placement for them, human nature took its course and they resettled here. Rather than uprooting them yet again, the King of the time, King Edmus, decreed we would live together in harmony as they did no harm to our Balance. In fact in many ways, they have made it immensely stronger. And it has been like that ever since.”
Sora nodded in understanding – though he was sure to forget it all by morning.
“But life was not always easy for those who lived here.” That was where the story really started. His father explained of an elderly mother who once upon a time lived upon an island-like world that was nothing but ocean all around. It was a world of arrival – one in which those went to when their own homes were destroyed. All connections had them – and many millennia ago Connection 1 had three – Twilight Town, Traverse Town, and Destiny Islands. Sora needn’t ask which one his father obviously meant. Now it only had one – Twilight Town, which still bravely stood, having able to withstand the destruction around it thanks to its nature of being in the corner of that galaxy.
This mother, who had been from that world, came to this fountain because her feet were poor from long harsh years of life and she could not make it to any other. The Shee who lived here though always spoke highly of any fountain, and though she could not make it to the center of town, every evening she would come to this fountain, knowing it was at its strongest just after the sun had fallen. And she would bow to this fountain and pray.
Not for herself, but for her young son. Ever since they had lost their home, he could not sleep, the sound of the waves once his rocking crib and now mournfully misplaced. His restlessness only increased day after day, until he grew so ill she knew he was reaching the end of his life. She would have asked for a relocation – but she knew her frail body would never make the move and would leave her son orphaned. Yet, how could she not, with her son dying instead? So, she begged the fountain, pleaded for help. Every day for a month, she went down to the fountain. “Please, o great spirits, here my plea! My son is sick. He deserves his life more than I. If you let him live, he will live a long and fortunate life, being true to this world and helpful to its people, forever holding its balance.”
For thirty days she made this plea, until her voice was hoarse and her feet blistered. On that last day, the fountain spoke back to her, telling her to bring the boy back to it tomorrow evening. And so, with hope in her heart, she did. She bundled up her dear son tightly, and brought him to the fountain, the young child barely able to walk and his small frame wracked with each tiny cough. The fountain spoke to them both, telling the boy to get into the water. Such a thing was normally forbidden – by humans, Shee and monsters alike.
But this time, a boy entered the water, sitting down. The fountain read his heart and found him to be worthy of saving. It then told him to hold his head under the spout, so that his hair would get wet. He did so. And in front of his mother’s wide eyes, his hair turned the color of the moon. Next, the fountain told him to be fearless and face the running water with eyes wide open. And he did. Again his mother gasped, watching her son’s irises change to a beautiful, Destiny Island blue. And then the boy fell back but his mother caught him.
“Mother… I can hear it. The o...cean…” The boy fell silent because he was finally asleep.
The mother lifted her son from the water and the fountain spoke one last time, telling her she no longer had anything to fear. Her son would live a long, full life. But in return for this gift, he would one day have to give it back. Not fully understanding, the mother promised he would and took her son away and back to bed.
“And decades passed and soon the boy grew into a man. A man worthy of respect as he held his peers in high regard, helped all in need, cared for all those less fortunate, and never forgot any close to his heart. Some say he was as selfless as a white-wing and that his brilliant hair marked the best upbringing, strength and power of a silver wing. But, when his best years passed and he was old and elderly and almost forgotten by all because he, like his mother, was frail and weak and could no longer help even himself, he made the long trek his mother had for over a month, realizing how painful it must have been for her. He approached the fountain and said, ‘I am here now. I have heard your call. I am ready to repay my debt and endless gratitude with my service’.”
“And then?” The young boy asked with a wide yawn.
“And then some say nothing was left behind of him but the cane he always used to help him walk with for he no longer needed it. He has joined Twilight to guard the ocean and crescent moon.”
And as his father picked him up and flew him home, Sora fell asleep in his arms, dreaming of flying with those twilit stars and towards the ocean. And with him was Twilight, a mere boy just his age, flying or maybe floating alongside him. He didn’t precisely remember what he looked like, other than that moonshine hair and ocean eyes, but he did know that warmth he felt with him at his side.
His first friend.
Roxas still remembered the first day he saw them.
The Monsters.
By his kind, they were best known as Renki; this derogatory, sarcastic, insulting name – but, Latium always told them in their homework to call them by their scientifically correct name: Atterians.
He did, but only in his homework – and only around his parents as well. But when he was studying under Volken, or in the company of the King’s fellows, he used the word as freely as they did when speaking of those horrible beasts who were rumored to care so little of their own kind, they actually make a sport of it to chase their own children down and kill them. Were so bestial their ‘marriage’, if one could call it that, was done by scarring one another and drinking the blood of the wounds! Were said to have such a thirst for power, that they snuck their claws into any living creatures they could get near enough to and sucked away their life and power, leaving them for dead – and, terribly, could do the same to the Heart of a world. Of course, some of it was just rumors, to scare the human children so they didn’t get any wild ideas of bugging these very dangerous slaves.
Even though he was young he was not foolish, and even behind those cages, he could see just how big those teeth were. Had they been able to get out, just one snap would have taken his and his brother’s heads clean off. Or, as they preferred, they would have gone straight to tearing out their wings. Volken always said to never turn your back on them, because if they have a chance to strike you down, they will. Of course, in that unsettling place, a monster barn, it was impossible not to show your back to some of them as cages lined either side – and even some were up in the air, hanging, where the griffin-like creatures slumbered. There were so many, they looked a little cramped but Roxas felt no sympathy for them. They deserved it – deserved to rot for all the pain and destruction they had caused.
Before the great clash of connections, Shee and Atterians had always been enemies, the former always trying to just live in harmony with the universe, while the others were power-sucking creatures of darkness. They were greedy and ruthless, taking all they could just for glory. They were obsessed with their individual pride, so much so they stomped on everyone else in their way.
But, shortly after the humans joined their realm, the Shee, forever giving and kind, found out that the Atterian’s home world, Atteris, which had once been a part of Connection 2 and was now in limbo between connections, was not fairing well with the change. The weather had drastically changed from deep, arid desert temperatures to frigid, icy snow climates. Already, half of the beasts had died, grown sick from lack of food, water, and shelter. Their homes, made of nothing but rock, cracked from the ice and started to come down, leaving them with little shelter as well. And the Shee saw their plight and despite their differences and instant hatred of one another, they reached out a helping hand.
They allowed the Atterians to come and live on Norn. The few Atterians who could speak their tongue, which was admittedly very few as it was said only the most powerful or best of blood could do, promised that they would do no harm to them or the inhabitants on exchange for this kindness and aid.
The humans did not seem to mind the extra crowd – most even welcomed those suffering into their homes and the young children even treated most of the recovering beasts like… like pets!! But it was soon to be revealed as a mistake, as once they were strong enough, almost at once like a great movement, the Atterians attacked those who had taken them in. Killed them without even a flicker of remorse in their eyes an soon the blood of human and Shee alike became to drench the streets of Norn. A war raged for a time. Many died. There was much suffering and pain.
Until a Shee with balanced wings came down and decided enough was enough. He called forth the great Keyblade and struck the Atterians down with only one blow and decreed for their deceit and betrayal they would learn a life of suffering ten times as great. All their power was stripped away from them and that was how they came to be the lowest of the low. But Roxas thought this was not satisfactory enough. It was as foolish as the decision before it – only wrapped in a blanket of false security as if they were truly powerless. But their muscles were great – so strong only two were needed to pull the five person royal carriages, and only four lug around the much heavier sixteen-person carriages of the middle-class. Their teeth were also razor sharp – he had seen one, a nervous lioness who was pulling her first royal carriage, need only one snap of teeth to bite right through her harness and take off, having to be chased down by her owner. Even the little monsters, like that one wrapped like a mummy, could take a finger off if he wished too.
He tried to tell Volken as much, that they should not allow such dangerous creatures to live among them any longer, but the man just chuckled and pat him on the head. He explained it off as such a thing could not be done as they were… ‘assets to the community’. But Roxas did not think this to be true either. If they had lived without them once, they could do it again – all of them have just grown lazy!
But his voice was too small and he too short for any to listen to him, no matter how outstanding the color of his wings were.
And even at dinner he went unheard.
“Well, you work with the council Jet! Get them to reconsider!” His mother was arguing over dinner. “Atterians deserve a voice like everyone else. A trial, just as any human or Shee does, when they do something that puts them at the belief of guilt.”
“If you ask me, we should just throw them all to the slaughter.” Roxas grumbled, but not quietly enough.
“Roxas!!” Now his mother Runa was usually a very beautiful woman, but her anger always made her look ugly – especially when directed at him. She always gave him this look like he was her greatest disappointment.
“I am just saying!” Roxas said, his wings trembling. “We shouldn’t live with traitors!”
“I have heard about enough of your back sass Roxas!”
“Listen to your mother Roxas, or you will be going to your room without the rest of your supper.”
Roxas glowered, but went back to his dinner in silence, ignoring the looks of worry his brothers gave him from over their own plates.
Unheard indeed.
But he knew one day he would be greater than this life. One day he would always be taken seriously and his words obeyed without a thought of a question.
The day he was king.
The love of his life.
The two-leggeds, better known as humans – or as they best preferred to boast masters – were the ones dejecting them all to this… this disgusting, terrible, disrespectful sham of a life. He didn’t know what life was like before this, nor did his father, who – generation after generation – they had lived like this. Had no one ever told him things had been different, could he believe things could be something other than what they were.
His father, who passed down the stories of his father, who passed down the stories of his father and so on and so forth, told him of a world beyond the stars. It wasn’t something magnificent, like this world was, with lush green grasses and running streams and fountains that glimmered with magic itself. Yet somehow still, Hatori was captivated by the land that he and the rest of them used to call home. Stone houses, carved thousands of years ago by their ancestors out of mountains, formed a circular pattern in nothing but a barren wasteland.
That was right. A desert. They lived on a desert, where the sand dunes stretched for miles and the sandstorms were rough but bracing. In that world, they thrived. Like Norn, this terrible world, their centerpiece was a fountain but theirs did not spit water, but rather sand. It really all sounded quite glorious! And as his father explained the windows made not of glass but clear quartz, the doors and furniture of metal, the knobs and accessories of fine gems, Hatori’s snakish tail would wag, and he’d eagerly ask his father to get to the best part.
The best part – Hatori’s favorite – was the reason they could live upon such a green-less land. Trees. So few in number, they could be counted upon one paw - though there was a rumor of an oasis, something so glorious no one had ever gone and returned to tell the tale of it, where there were at least a hundred trees and a pond of fish. Trees were blessed things in their land – never to be tampered with and always valued – and to have even a piece of wood, using a naturally fallen branch, meant you had strength and power and the upmost respect. And, in their family, of which had been once ranked one of the highest in their land, they had a piece of wood – a sacred piece. A music-maker, long, hollow and thin, with holes for air to easily pass through – better known as a flute.
And Hatori would go to sleep at nights, curled up between his mother’s belly and his brother’s left paw, dreaming of holding this flute as if this sign of their royalty would be enough to have the two-leggeds unlock their cages. And he would guide his family out of their cages, out into the world, out of Norn and to somewhere better. Somewhere where they could be as they were meant to be.
His father called them Atterians. It was a name they all knew, but no one else heard. No, the names everyone knew them by, those were the ones Hatori most heard: Beasts. Monsters. Renki.
Renki. It was too foreign a word for his ‘almighty masters’ to use – no it was only ever uttered by the ones with wings; the blessed. It meant one who could not be loved and one who could never love.
But Hatori knew this was widely untrue. If not because of his father, his mother, or even his big brother, he learned it because of himself.
And that was the day he met her. Ida Tellus. Blood-bonding – the Atterian form of marriage – was not permitted, but even still, she took his last name, proud and honored to have it.
The two-leggeds… it was possibly the only thing he could ever be ‘grateful’ for from them. To keep their supply of little pets handy, they tried to force the mating process. Stick a male and a female in a barn stable together during the right season – it was sure to work, right? But, even with the urge making it near painful to resist every female they threw at him, he refused. His brother and he, they agreed they would not soil the Tellus name by being just another beast for these squishy, pale, hairless creatures to use. They would walk on four legs, like they deemed, but beyond that they did their best to cause a little mayhem every now and again and resist as much as could be allowed. This… this monstrosity of a brothel was just one thing he could not partake in. Even a few of the more forward ones had to go running and whining at the door to be let out when he snapped and threatened their necks.
And then, for some odd reason, they threw her in.
He lay on the straw, almost boredly, long tail flicking back and forth, looking again at the high walls of the little prison as if he could find a way out, when his ears twitched as the door screeched on its hinges and they dragged in yet another bitch he was sure to turn away, the creature hardly putting up a struggle as she was ushered – actually USHERED, how disgustingly weak – in by her collar. And then the door was shut.
He rose his head from his paws and looked at her. And then, he REALLY looked at her. The smell of her was strong – but even during this season when she should be in heat, there was nothing but fear in its place. Her tail, cut brutally short, was tucked between her legs as she huddled in a corner – a causality of living. They did it to them all, the horror of the surgery enough to break some of them – even he held the marks of what the two-leggeds took from them.
And as he stood, she could quickly see what that was as he limped towards her. Scars were at the back of each paw, where his sixth claw, like a demonic back claw of a bird, had been. The removal of them had left him without the ability to run ever again. But that was not all – his two top canines, meant to be long saber-teeth, had been pulled. Twice. Now, he just had two gaps there, though luckily this did not inhibit his ability to eat.
When he got near her, this little black wolf with her ears down and her attempt to look so small, she flinched. But unlike last time, this did not bother him. Suddenly her weakness was endearing. Suddenly… he wanted to protect her. “Don’t worry,” He murmured, licking one downed ear, “I won’t hurt you.” He laid down beside her, his tail wrapping around her. “What’s your name?”
“I-I-Ida.”
That day, they spoke. He remembered her telling him how she didn’t feel fit to be a mother, and had lost her children before, three of them, but if she didn’t produce one…
Oh, he knew what they would do. They’d scrape her. They’d work her to the bone in hard labor since she didn’t need to be protected for motherhood until she, most likely, died prematurely.
And that was too terrible an ending for such a precious, beautiful creature. Hatori refused to stand for that.
Ninth and a half months after that meeting, little Terra was born. And Hatori saw her and him for the first time in their human forms, because an animal could not birth a non-animal. It was the only time Atterians were permitted this luxury – and only then when they were locked away from curious eyes. No one was permitted to know they could look like them. In most cases, it was even forbidden for them to speak in their tongue in their presence, but such a secret was not as heavily guarded.
And, if he was good and did his labor as was assigned, he would get to sleep with his family. His brother would have been disappointed in him – or maybe proud of him for taking care of his mate and son. Had he known of course that he even had a nephew and a sister-in-law. But no, shortly at the beginning of his mate trials, as an act of punishment, they sold his brother away. But Terra was still their kin, and now it was up to him to teach him the meaning of the name Tellus.
Terra, his son.
Terra still remembered the first day he saw one of them.
A blessed.
It could also, and was more rightfully so, pronounced blesséd with an accent to make it seem even more impressive than it already was.
It had been just shortly after his transformation. Ah, yes, he remembered that terrible time. His father, every morning before he was taken away, would give his mother a kiss and him a pat on the head, promising to be back that night for dinner. Sometimes he would try to make his father stay, would hold onto his paw or his ear or his tail, because nothing ever was bad when his dad was around. But even if his father tried to stay, the two-leggeds dragged them apart. And then he was gone and that was when the trainers came.
His mother, at first, fought them. He’d never seen her so fierce. But they beat her back – made sure she didn’t get the idea to do it again. She told him to fight it, as long as he could. So they could stay out of the fields and live like a real family just a bit longer. He did. He fought it, as long as he could. Ran away from the sharp picks that poked his body, rolled away from the shocks from the metal staffs, and curled in a ball and held his ears when they kicked and hit and yelled ‘Change, change, CHANGE!’ He never knew that, not only where they trying to force him into his bestial form, but they were also teaching him obedience.
But, after three full years of that, it happened. He couldn’t stop it when it occurred, the fury of being kicked and poked and shocked on a daily basis – and watching the same happen to his brothers and sisters and family all around him! No, he hated this. He hated them. And he would not let them hurt them anymore!
And with those final thoughts, and his mother’s anguished howls, he changed. He was just a small little wolf pup – but the sight of him made his mother cry. He felt horribly, knowing he had failed her. But it was not his change that made her cry – no it was him. The sight of him – or rather the sight of what they were going to DO to him. Eleven spikes jutting from his spine and two tiny bull horns jutted from his temples. She knew what was coming next, the pain of losing her own tail as fresh of a memory as if it had happened yesterday, and continued to screech and holler and howl as they snatched up her son by one of his new horns and took him away.
“MAMA! MAMAAAAAAA!” Terra screamed and that was the last time he would see her for a few days.
It was excruciating. He knew he would never forget it. Not enough anesthesia for a full numbness, so when they reaaaallly got down to the bone of his spine and skull, tearing out those spikes and horns to their very roots so they would never grow back, pain rocketed through him like nothing else. He had huge gaps in his memory, so he was sure he had slept during some of the procedure, though he never remembered feeling rested.
And then, he remembered waking up to a more pleasant, though different, place. His mother’s rough tongue, and his father’s rumbling voice stirred him. When they saw his eyes open, they looked so happy, and he wondered, if between all this, he had learned something that pleased them. The last lesson his mother was giving him was about letters, by shaping them out with her fingers in the dust. Human things – but things that would aid him as well. To be able to read was a luxury and a rarity. And it gave them, if only slight, some power in this mad world.
He wouldn’t realize until many years later that they were not happy – they were relieved. Relieved he would live.
He spent the next few weeks in their new home – a slightly less spacious barn but still ever close to his mother who was in charge of tending to him and his wounds while still his father worked. This place, this new place, was so different from the place he knew before yet it was ironically exactly the same. They were still his brothers and sisters, his family. But they were older – almost all of them older than him. And unlike those in the room before, these brethren of his could not ever become human again. It was now treason for them – for he as well – to turn back.
Ever.
And yet, sometimes, when no one was looking, his father did. His mother nor he were never meant to know this secret. He always changed when the moon was high and nearly all were asleep, stretching his limbs and walking about. Terra caught him only once, his body injured, his sleep restless – and one day he woke up, just in time to see his father change. He always found it strange he was not… furry like his mother who, when human, kept her wolfen ears and her half-tail and even her claws and sharp fangs. But his father… he could almost pass as a human. Almost – if not for those gold, gold eyes. He never let him know he knew, pretended to sleep when his father came back to bed. He already knew he would never tell a soul – he had to protect his own.
As it was, the first few days in his new home were uneventful. He spent a lot of it asleep, bandages wrapped securely around his midsection and the crown of his head that were changed semi-regularly. He remembered that morning though. It was just shortly after a bandage change, so his mother was sniffing him all over and staying nearer to him that was necessary, when a two-legged, one of their ‘masters’ came running down the line of cages, banging a shovel against the bars of their caged doors and yelling such things as “Behave!” and “Act in line!” Terra had no idea what was happening; all he knew was all that noise was giving him a headache and making his already sore body ache.
And then, they came. Their power was so prominent, it was like he could taste it in the air. It made him feel dizzy and he had to shut his eyes.
When he next opened them, he saw, holding onto the bars of their door with extreme interest, three young boys. At first, he didn’t see anything that was different between them and any other two-legged sapling. But, when his eyes focused, he saw them, fluttering at their backs, so thin they were almost see-through.
Wings. Big, beautiful wings.
Two of them were identical in every way, same blonde hair and same blue eyes. The only difference was their wings – one merely swirls of blacks and whites and the other a blast of fiery reds and oranges. Between them, leaning so close his face was smooshed in the bars, his wild brown spikes only as impressive as the colorful blues and yellows of his wings.
“Daah, look at the little one! It’s so cute!” The blue-boy spoke. “I hope it’s okay though…”
“Remember what Volken said. It’s gonna grow up to be a Renki.” The white one scoffed and even for his young age, he could put on a good sneer.
The boy beside him gasped, “Rox! Mommy doesn’t want you saying such things, remember?”
“Mommy isn’t here.”
“Come on boys!” A voice of another yelled though he did not see him.
“Coming!” Two voices called, and the two who had spoken went running away. But the third one – the red one – he stayed. If but for a few moments, gripping onto the bars like the blue one had and leaning closer.
“Hey there… You alright?”
Terra’s ears perked up, before he slowly lifted his head. And, thought he wasn’t sure why he cared what this little blonde pixie thought of him, he smiled, his jaw dropping and tongue lolling out in an adorable expression that made the boy hold his mouth and giggle. And then another call drew him away this time and he was gone and Terra hid his head in his paws when his mother growled at him, tucking his tail underneath him so she couldn’t see it wagging. And then, when his father came home and found out, he enlightened Terra of exactly who Blessed were and the young pup hung his head in shame as he learned the awful, ugly truth. They were no one to be empathetic with. They were the ones who sentenced them to this hellish life. Were the ones to decree such awful pains on himself and his family and all those he cared about.
And he would never forgive them.
Sora still remembered the first day his father told him the story.
The Story of the Fountain Guardians.
They were known by a dozen other names too – each unique and special and, sadly, lost to the dust of history.
Therefore, even still now, they are known simply as Fountain Guardians. No one actually knew, for certain, if actual beings lived within these fountains – or what they might look like. Though one thing all Shee knew that they were built upon the great keys; weapons of incredible power and magical properties. Then again, that too had been questioned. Really, the fountains were ‘all just kid stories’. Things to tell the young Shee before bedtime to fill their dreams with wonder and magic.
But it wasn’t just any story that fascinated Sora – it was one in particular. Each fountain had its own special story to it – in fact most had several. Except, of course, for the center fountain which everyone knew was created by the sacrifice of the first black and white winged Shee. That center fountain, now the center of their world, was said to hold within the magic to allow Shee to live among each other and to uphold their peace and inner Balance.
But, though he respected that fountain and the ancient magic it held, that was not the story his father first told him – even if that was traditional. No, instead, one late night when Soran was found restlessly wandering their vast home by his father, working late yet again on some council meeting and just returning, he brought his son to the kitchen for a warm drink to help him sleep and told him about the Fountain of Twilight, that holds power over the crescent moon and ocean.
In his dad’s version, it was said that this fountain, built closest to the river just beyond the city walls, guarded the stars and the invisible sea. Norn had no ocean, so at first, Sora thought this was strange – but his father explained that all water flowed to the ocean and, whether Norn had one or not, the river was flowing away from Norn, journeying somewhere far and wonderful. It made sense at that young age and, when Sora shut his eyes, he could almost imagine it. Just like the pictures of Latium’s fancy books, a nice beach, beautiful seashells, rolling waves. The river, giving to the ocean, a never-ending supply of water.
As for the moon, that was tied into the ocean – but , as if only guided the crescent moon, the fountain’s power often translated to ‘the guide of the gently, rolling waves’. That often lead to the belief that this fountain held power over time or, the purpose of his father telling him this story in the first place, a good night of restful sleep.
And, after telling of its purpose, despite the late hour, Jet bundled up his son into his arms and flew him out to see the fountain. He sat his son down on the edge of the fountain, and pointed up where the water was spouting at the top. And, looking up at it in the dark of the night, Sora smiled, knowing why it was called the Twilight fountain. Because, with the darkness all around, and only in the faint light of the night sky, the water spouting from the top caught it just perfectly, looking rather wondrous – as if the fountain was shooting up silver stars, little falling meteors, an endless supply for the velvet canvas of sky when sun falls.
It was something Sora knew he’d never forget.
There, his father finished the fairytale. Of course, being a dad, he first made sure that his boy was keeping up with his history.
“Now, you remember how the humans of this world and the Shee came together, correct?”
“Ummm…” Sora concentrated very hard, his eyes crossing some as he thought. Latium hadn’t taught it that long, had he? “It had to do with Connection 1 and 2… and they went uhhh…” He shrugged and slapped his hands together, because that IS what Latium had done to emphasize his point but he could not remember what he was emphasizing anymore.
Jet chuckled in amusement. “Well, yes. Unforeseeably, these two connections collided – drawn together by the space of a black hole. If it was not because of Isis’, a black-winged Shee, destructive prophecy we would not have gotten there in time. The smaller worlds did not survive – or rather they could not be allowed to survive as their tiny mass could not withstand the gravity of the larger planets. They were being drawn in and would have collided – so we had to evacuate the people and animals from these worlds and destroy the planets before they could do disorderly harm. We took all we saved back to Norn. Before we could find placement for them, human nature took its course and they resettled here. Rather than uprooting them yet again, the King of the time, King Edmus, decreed we would live together in harmony as they did no harm to our Balance. In fact in many ways, they have made it immensely stronger. And it has been like that ever since.”
Sora nodded in understanding – though he was sure to forget it all by morning.
“But life was not always easy for those who lived here.” That was where the story really started. His father explained of an elderly mother who once upon a time lived upon an island-like world that was nothing but ocean all around. It was a world of arrival – one in which those went to when their own homes were destroyed. All connections had them – and many millennia ago Connection 1 had three – Twilight Town, Traverse Town, and Destiny Islands. Sora needn’t ask which one his father obviously meant. Now it only had one – Twilight Town, which still bravely stood, having able to withstand the destruction around it thanks to its nature of being in the corner of that galaxy.
This mother, who had been from that world, came to this fountain because her feet were poor from long harsh years of life and she could not make it to any other. The Shee who lived here though always spoke highly of any fountain, and though she could not make it to the center of town, every evening she would come to this fountain, knowing it was at its strongest just after the sun had fallen. And she would bow to this fountain and pray.
Not for herself, but for her young son. Ever since they had lost their home, he could not sleep, the sound of the waves once his rocking crib and now mournfully misplaced. His restlessness only increased day after day, until he grew so ill she knew he was reaching the end of his life. She would have asked for a relocation – but she knew her frail body would never make the move and would leave her son orphaned. Yet, how could she not, with her son dying instead? So, she begged the fountain, pleaded for help. Every day for a month, she went down to the fountain. “Please, o great spirits, here my plea! My son is sick. He deserves his life more than I. If you let him live, he will live a long and fortunate life, being true to this world and helpful to its people, forever holding its balance.”
For thirty days she made this plea, until her voice was hoarse and her feet blistered. On that last day, the fountain spoke back to her, telling her to bring the boy back to it tomorrow evening. And so, with hope in her heart, she did. She bundled up her dear son tightly, and brought him to the fountain, the young child barely able to walk and his small frame wracked with each tiny cough. The fountain spoke to them both, telling the boy to get into the water. Such a thing was normally forbidden – by humans, Shee and monsters alike.
But this time, a boy entered the water, sitting down. The fountain read his heart and found him to be worthy of saving. It then told him to hold his head under the spout, so that his hair would get wet. He did so. And in front of his mother’s wide eyes, his hair turned the color of the moon. Next, the fountain told him to be fearless and face the running water with eyes wide open. And he did. Again his mother gasped, watching her son’s irises change to a beautiful, Destiny Island blue. And then the boy fell back but his mother caught him.
“Mother… I can hear it. The o...cean…” The boy fell silent because he was finally asleep.
The mother lifted her son from the water and the fountain spoke one last time, telling her she no longer had anything to fear. Her son would live a long, full life. But in return for this gift, he would one day have to give it back. Not fully understanding, the mother promised he would and took her son away and back to bed.
“And decades passed and soon the boy grew into a man. A man worthy of respect as he held his peers in high regard, helped all in need, cared for all those less fortunate, and never forgot any close to his heart. Some say he was as selfless as a white-wing and that his brilliant hair marked the best upbringing, strength and power of a silver wing. But, when his best years passed and he was old and elderly and almost forgotten by all because he, like his mother, was frail and weak and could no longer help even himself, he made the long trek his mother had for over a month, realizing how painful it must have been for her. He approached the fountain and said, ‘I am here now. I have heard your call. I am ready to repay my debt and endless gratitude with my service’.”
“And then?” The young boy asked with a wide yawn.
“And then some say nothing was left behind of him but the cane he always used to help him walk with for he no longer needed it. He has joined Twilight to guard the ocean and crescent moon.”
And as his father picked him up and flew him home, Sora fell asleep in his arms, dreaming of flying with those twilit stars and towards the ocean. And with him was Twilight, a mere boy just his age, flying or maybe floating alongside him. He didn’t precisely remember what he looked like, other than that moonshine hair and ocean eyes, but he did know that warmth he felt with him at his side.
His first friend.
Roxas still remembered the first day he saw them.
The Monsters.
By his kind, they were best known as Renki; this derogatory, sarcastic, insulting name – but, Latium always told them in their homework to call them by their scientifically correct name: Atterians.
He did, but only in his homework – and only around his parents as well. But when he was studying under Volken, or in the company of the King’s fellows, he used the word as freely as they did when speaking of those horrible beasts who were rumored to care so little of their own kind, they actually make a sport of it to chase their own children down and kill them. Were so bestial their ‘marriage’, if one could call it that, was done by scarring one another and drinking the blood of the wounds! Were said to have such a thirst for power, that they snuck their claws into any living creatures they could get near enough to and sucked away their life and power, leaving them for dead – and, terribly, could do the same to the Heart of a world. Of course, some of it was just rumors, to scare the human children so they didn’t get any wild ideas of bugging these very dangerous slaves.
Even though he was young he was not foolish, and even behind those cages, he could see just how big those teeth were. Had they been able to get out, just one snap would have taken his and his brother’s heads clean off. Or, as they preferred, they would have gone straight to tearing out their wings. Volken always said to never turn your back on them, because if they have a chance to strike you down, they will. Of course, in that unsettling place, a monster barn, it was impossible not to show your back to some of them as cages lined either side – and even some were up in the air, hanging, where the griffin-like creatures slumbered. There were so many, they looked a little cramped but Roxas felt no sympathy for them. They deserved it – deserved to rot for all the pain and destruction they had caused.
Before the great clash of connections, Shee and Atterians had always been enemies, the former always trying to just live in harmony with the universe, while the others were power-sucking creatures of darkness. They were greedy and ruthless, taking all they could just for glory. They were obsessed with their individual pride, so much so they stomped on everyone else in their way.
But, shortly after the humans joined their realm, the Shee, forever giving and kind, found out that the Atterian’s home world, Atteris, which had once been a part of Connection 2 and was now in limbo between connections, was not fairing well with the change. The weather had drastically changed from deep, arid desert temperatures to frigid, icy snow climates. Already, half of the beasts had died, grown sick from lack of food, water, and shelter. Their homes, made of nothing but rock, cracked from the ice and started to come down, leaving them with little shelter as well. And the Shee saw their plight and despite their differences and instant hatred of one another, they reached out a helping hand.
They allowed the Atterians to come and live on Norn. The few Atterians who could speak their tongue, which was admittedly very few as it was said only the most powerful or best of blood could do, promised that they would do no harm to them or the inhabitants on exchange for this kindness and aid.
The humans did not seem to mind the extra crowd – most even welcomed those suffering into their homes and the young children even treated most of the recovering beasts like… like pets!! But it was soon to be revealed as a mistake, as once they were strong enough, almost at once like a great movement, the Atterians attacked those who had taken them in. Killed them without even a flicker of remorse in their eyes an soon the blood of human and Shee alike became to drench the streets of Norn. A war raged for a time. Many died. There was much suffering and pain.
Until a Shee with balanced wings came down and decided enough was enough. He called forth the great Keyblade and struck the Atterians down with only one blow and decreed for their deceit and betrayal they would learn a life of suffering ten times as great. All their power was stripped away from them and that was how they came to be the lowest of the low. But Roxas thought this was not satisfactory enough. It was as foolish as the decision before it – only wrapped in a blanket of false security as if they were truly powerless. But their muscles were great – so strong only two were needed to pull the five person royal carriages, and only four lug around the much heavier sixteen-person carriages of the middle-class. Their teeth were also razor sharp – he had seen one, a nervous lioness who was pulling her first royal carriage, need only one snap of teeth to bite right through her harness and take off, having to be chased down by her owner. Even the little monsters, like that one wrapped like a mummy, could take a finger off if he wished too.
He tried to tell Volken as much, that they should not allow such dangerous creatures to live among them any longer, but the man just chuckled and pat him on the head. He explained it off as such a thing could not be done as they were… ‘assets to the community’. But Roxas did not think this to be true either. If they had lived without them once, they could do it again – all of them have just grown lazy!
But his voice was too small and he too short for any to listen to him, no matter how outstanding the color of his wings were.
And even at dinner he went unheard.
“Well, you work with the council Jet! Get them to reconsider!” His mother was arguing over dinner. “Atterians deserve a voice like everyone else. A trial, just as any human or Shee does, when they do something that puts them at the belief of guilt.”
“If you ask me, we should just throw them all to the slaughter.” Roxas grumbled, but not quietly enough.
“Roxas!!” Now his mother Runa was usually a very beautiful woman, but her anger always made her look ugly – especially when directed at him. She always gave him this look like he was her greatest disappointment.
“I am just saying!” Roxas said, his wings trembling. “We shouldn’t live with traitors!”
“I have heard about enough of your back sass Roxas!”
“Listen to your mother Roxas, or you will be going to your room without the rest of your supper.”
Roxas glowered, but went back to his dinner in silence, ignoring the looks of worry his brothers gave him from over their own plates.
Unheard indeed.
But he knew one day he would be greater than this life. One day he would always be taken seriously and his words obeyed without a thought of a question.
The day he was king.
