11/Fantasy/MoMoMix/Broken Dreams/150 BPM (Original Story)

[MoMoMix]

(Yay for odd titles. >.> Any/all productive feedback is appreciated.)

“One time, beyond the memories of man, we were once blessed with the wings of Angels and allowed existence in a Paradise unmatched. And yet with everything ours we disgraced that kingdom with trivial rivalries, stuck in perpetual contest to acquire absolute favor from the divine. For our imperfection we were cast downward, stripped of our dignity and wings, abandoned with only our hatred to guide us.

Even years later, we turn toward the sky in complete adoration, eagerly awaiting forgiveness so we may ascend once more on the grace of wings no longer ours.”
- Prelude To The Five Skies

Known as a casual fable serving as a lullaby or source of inspiration, its difficult to contemplate the legitimacy of such a tale. Passed downward through all five of the clans forever exiled to the terrestrial world, with each generation a new addition is created furthering the hatred and despondency amongst bloodlines and continuing to serve as a symbolic representation of heritage and pride rather then lamentation. To an extent it remains true however, each person while unique bestowed a predestined amount of burden to carry through their existence. A pair of gashes against the shoulders and down the back are but the remnants of purity we do dearly cherish. The color flooding our eyes and permanently inscribed upon our flesh a curse that breeds nothing save hatred… And in all our souls, a portion of the kingdom in the sky, corrupted in the thoughts of man and frailty of our hearts.

~The Throne Of Tears; Fallen Of The Skies~

“Under the sky, from the kingdom of heaven, are we blessed with night. Nothingness hide our fear, strands of darkness guide our conviction. Ash our air and void our hearts, lead us to redemption.
- Children Of Night; First Excerpt

It was believed that initially the colors of the sky were the dignities of our existence – humanity served as but a glorious extension of the splendor of the world. The only other creation subjective to so many things, we were to be the embodiment of heaven itself and voices for all it symbolized. The evening darkness blanketed the world in night, a symbol of uniformity and harmony in the presence of all. The warmth showering from above during the day, the ability to express compassion and love through the most gentle of touch. Storms of lightning and thunder exhibiting an unmatched passion and potential power, wild and unharnessed yet still a display of finesse. Rain purifying the world of mistake and imperfection, showing adaptation and infinite renewal toward absolute perfection.. Lastly was snow, an exuberant phenomenon of individuality and pleasantness to the eyes. Bestowed without limitation, it was deemed impossible for man to uphold such responsibilities.

"Under the sky, from the kingdom of heaven, are we blessed with light. Warmth our devotion, rays of light cleansing the unworthy. Luminance our air and brightness our heart, lead us to redemption."
- Children Of Light; First Excerpt

Within time the ethereal blessing became a warped fascination, dynamos of destruction and merely tools employed to prove their worth to heaven and superiority amongst the clans deemed less fortunate in their portion of divine heritage. Darkness became a shroud of deception and emptiness, driven by a desire to vanquish those unwilling to convert. Light transformed into blind devotion and an overwhelming belief of control, believing law and truth to be concepts above the comprehension and ability of others.

Storm manifested into an ideal of survival and inhibitions, trapped in its own inferno of jealousy as it sought complete freedom. Rain upheld a pompous self perception of truth and understanding, demanding purity and awe toward its genius and knowledge. And those of snow became servants toward a contradiction of pride amongst its clan and dominance within the bloodlines, their hearts as cold as the sky that bore them. To the shock of their creators, after transmogrifying their very essence war erupted between the clans.

"Under the sky, from the kingdom of heaven, are we blessed with storm. Thunder echo our creed, lightning be our prophet burning across the lands. Smoke our air and clouds our hearts, lead us to redemption."
- Children Of Storm; First Excerpt

The inevitable combat was nothing short of an enigma; components of a greater existence abandoned cooperation in favor of complete supremacy, a desperate plea to be bestowed the approval of their masters and satisfy the inherent desire of unmatched glory. Despite their similarities, it was the meager differences that fueled the intolerance of being in the presence of those considered unworthy. Without any warnings or foreshadowed obscurities, the hatred and determination to ascend consumed all the clans and the world they so loved in a war without meaning or reason. Regardless of their origins and previous relations, complete civil war enveloped the children and so did the sky lose its original intention of continuity and ascension. From day to night, shifting from white to black and vice versa, fueled by the fiery tempers, distraught tears, and hearts of cold, did the once proud skies now reside in shame and shambles.

"Under the sky, from the kingdom of heaven, are we blessed with rain. Windfall spread our dogma, regenerating the fervor and purity of our souls. Mist our air and fog our hearts, lead us to redemption."
- Children Of Rain; First Excerpt

The remnants of the world became torn over without regret, soaked in a myriad torrent of innocent blood and despoiled visions. Anguish and mourning were of no consequence or importance, servants becoming soldiers and marching onward in a glory already unachievable, the tattered husks of the surviving unfortunate were only guided by the colors filtered through eyes devoid of emotion and unexplainable loathing in their hearts. Despite being brothers and sisters in birth, brethren in their very existence and extension of their masters, all ties were abandoned as hatred became their only matron. It was without hesitation an empty and distressing embrace, a reluctant oath continually preached by a God of intangible darkness foreign to the natural divinity of the domain amongst the heavenly. Filled with disappointment and despair amongst the ruination, the skies painfully exiled the survivors from the celestial to the domain of the terrestrial, offering the most dishonorable and horrible punishment for their childish hubris.

"Under the sky, from the kingdom of heaven, are we blessed with snow. Snowflakes covet our individuality, conforming the blind to the wonder of simplicity. Snowfall our air and drifts our hearts, lead us to redemption."
- Children Of Snow; First Excerpt

It was an unbelievable atrocity, a hideous injustice not obvious to those outside the sphere of influence, but painfully effective to those that knew. Descending from the skies fell the Children, caught in confusion and distraught from the decree. Darkness buried the ordeal, blanketing the misery and the happiness together to avoid recollection. Light obscured the echoing truth, dominating the thoughts of the rejected. Storms scoured across the heavens, depicting a grandiose combination of turbulence and unnatural rage. Rain fell in a sullen shower across the land, tears attempting to contain an unparalleled sorrow. Snow hailed downward in cold fury, isolating itself in an unbreakable belief of stoicism. The elegant tapestry of harmony and beauty became a fluctuating display of emotion and fallen ideals, a continual representation of the chaos and displeasure the clans brought to a world of perfection. What was once a radiant sea of sapphire expanding eternally beyond the horizon became a reminder of the trivial plight that forced the exile from ascension.

~Fallen of the skies...

Like the beautiful and perfect wings of an angel, were they robbed of the freedom and entrance to a world beyond comprehension. Fallen from grace and those wings torn asunder, only the tattered feathers scattered across the winds would offer sympathy and remembrance.

~Our spiritual rhapsody...

Through darkness... Light... Storm... Rain... And snow... Our ideals, beliefs, regrets, and memories forever clash amongst the ruined tapestry of the sky... It is our spirits continually renewing the story through a rhapsody of infinite verses across the world...

~Spiritual Rhapsody; Blood Tradition~

"Hmph... A prince detested in his own kingdom..."

Scarlet eyes narrowed slightly in irritation, taking a moment to refocus before hiding away, accompanied by a smirk only noticeable enough for his own enjoyment. Passing through the portal of his kingdom, he noticed an immediate absence of the adoration and blind devotion. Beforehand his very presence brought an unmatched fanfare, glorious cheers that followed like a shadow, an ovation previously worthless, yet somehow noticeable in the silence. Instead he was greeted with an ocean of gazes, their perception as chaotic and persuaded as the tides flowing amongst the lands. Silence was perhaps a mistaken interpretation; the very atmosphere devoid of any audible disturbances, yet radiating a menacing and detestable scorn. To his onlookers he remained with a stagnant expression, a traitorous member of the purest bloodline of their clan, a treasured quality he wasn't worthy of owning. Despite their numbers and the knowledge that rebellious opinions would yield no punishment, they remained in an unwanted state of humility.

"Fool..."

"Did you hear...?"

"Of the Prince's heresy to the tradition...? Who hasn't..."

Murmurs... Nothing more, simply a flurry of thoughts without the respected bravery or resolve to matter. To those of the clan he was seen as a selfish and wayward savior, someone foolish enough to throw aside divine mandate in favor of pleasures only the heart could fantasize. Despite the painfully obvious disappointment that followed in a sea of whispers he retained a sense of self pride, still retaining a portion of grace and adoration in his very being. Locks of scarlet flared amongst a placid expression, haphazardly caressing the air around him in a dance of seemingly natural movement, occasionally brushing against the polished gauntlets crossed against his chest in genuine discomfort. In subtle but eventually noticeable movements he attempted to isolate himself from their intimidating gaze, choosing to become a recluse in a realm supposedly of his own lineage. Regardless of distance, of the decorative robes flowing against his form, or even his own feeble attempts to mentally deny himself of their insufferable accusations.

"You must not be so harsh my Lord... One must offer forgiveness and understanding in charity should they ever expect to receive it."

"Hmph..." A small smirk produced itself, a somewhat forced endeavor considering the mood currently forced upon his shoulders. It was a reaction of relief and satisfaction however, knowing that despite turning his back, several hadn't impulsively forgotten their loyalties. Offering a parting glance toward the friend his father not only found irreplaceable, but also appointed as his own personal adviser, a small glimmer of happiness attempted to unearth itself to this familiarity. It seemed regardless of the hardships and burdens the elderly years were infamous for, Arbiter Xion remained a dynamo of happiness and optimism, attributes that no doubt forged his reputation and earned status as a political aid. No matter how much effort he allocated in retaliation, the Prince knew any attempts to extinguish that sentiment was but a trivial and lost cause.

"You do realize these are the tribulations you must face. After all, you are key to the salvation of thousands.." A hesitation followed that reminder, the brutal truth usurping any remaining hope residing in his heart. Tales of the exile from the Skies themselves were beyond the classification of mythology, not elaboration on their origins but an accurate recollection of history itself. The only remaining chance of redemption remained in the purity of the bloodline, that only those retaining complete constancy can return to the Heaven they had left in shame. Whether actually valid or a proclamation fueled through wanton hatred it was treated as absolutely infallible. It was his purpose to continue the legacy of their clan, a harsh responsibility considering the plight he suffered from.

"Xion... You.. These people... My father... You may know my blood, but never my heart..." His words were staggered and slurred, his mind drifting into thoughts and memories he no longer wished to acknowledge, thus silence and depression his shield from the pain. It was the supposed infatuation between scions of the clans of Storm and Rain that created widespread tension across the lands and inspired insecurity and insurrection in his own realm. His love was realistic enough and his mind, whether clouded or aware of the repercussions, believed it was enough to disregard the creed so long ago established. An unapproachable and unopposed decree formed from centuries of jealousy and bitter rivalries, it was ironic and tragic that love would be the first to dare challenge the dynastic rule of emotions. His father devastated and embarrassed with his inability to control his son, his people disgusted that someone so revered would willingly throw everything away...

Walking in stride with the Prince of Storms, Xion's head remained bowed toward the floor, for once his enthusiasm failing to brighten the situation. A melancholy sigh filled the air, hearts filling with pain as reality and fantasy became distinct.

"Please remember... You are a Prince first... A person second... Obligations before personal preferences. This is your life.. This is your duty..."

This is my life...

This is my duty...

Please... No...

~Kingdom Of Pretend; Never Goodbye~

Thousands of years ago a blood-bound tradition was created to eliminate what would have otherwise been a perpetual age of bloodshed and hatred. Each clan believed complete isolation and separation was paragon to the survival of both their own existence and the very fabric of reality. Upholding these laws required a purity of heritage and commuting with outside foreigners was perhaps the greatest crime committed. If the peasantry feared corrupting their clan, it was complete blasphemy should an aristocratic be unable to restraint themselves. These thoughts continued to weigh down against his shoulders, his form slumping against the elegant balcony as his frustrations and wishes trespassed into the unknown darkness. The lineage in his blood demanded complete obedience yet his heart believed such things were worthless and merely fading remnants of a dying tradition. While the complete separation of the five clans was obvious and considered the ultimate authority, those privileged and able to bypass the stricter conditions gradually abandoned their mutual hatred. Yet the masses, uneducated and punished with the absence of enlightenment wouldn't accept the complete opposite.

The last word has no effect on passive ears. The powerful without control. We are subjects to a greater belief, regardless of status. We have no-

"Hey... Don't tell me you didn't forget!"

Her voice danced softly into the winds, loud enough to capture his interest without any unwanted intrusions following, releasing him from his own vexing contemplation and into the embrace of relief and acceptance. Glancing downward he noticed the glint of her sapphire eyes, locks of matching azure brushing against a carefree expression, whether of acceptance or oblivious ignorance he could never tell. Guised in nothing more save a tattered cloak, he couldn't help but snicker at her "expertise" for infiltration. Glancing around to comfort his paranoia, he gently pushed himself over the railing, landing in the soft and yet foreign embrace of the one who had his heart. Yet he was troubled as well, hiding underneath the jubilation of her arrival, but fearing the consequences should someone outside his bloodline be found upon the hallowed grounds. "Of course not Tira, but the danger of thi-"

She interrupted his explanation by grasping his hand, fingers intertwining as she started walking away, wishing with much haste to leave this world behind for one more understanding. A small laugh followed, stifled to the best of her abilities as they left the only home he knew. "The heart knows nothing of law Jun." A warm smile followed as they disappeared into the night, his mind no longer in anguish at the risks and obstacles. Always addressed with such formalities and extravagance, it was his position in regard and not himself. I am no longer a scion of the clan of storms... I am but myself.

Freedom.

Despite having this sense of freewill, fate wasn't as charitable or merciful.

---

A single motion in an attempt to release oneself from the shackles of responsibility and status, it was cruelly rewarded with the revelation only reality could produce. Almost outside the boundaries of the political capital of his clan, hesitation and dread overcame the sporadic bursts of bravery and hope. Behind them the skies began collecting, scarlet bolts infesting the darkness, containing an unnatural movement that only meant their voyage was uncovered. Eyes widening in disbelief, he starting to break into a sprint, half dragging his surprised companion as instinct took over. Turning around to attend to his sense of direction, another flash of crimson dotted the air, this time serving a more personal service as it struck against his chest. Wincing his body back-lashed, halting its advance as he attempted to drown the pain in fear, his only tether to reality feeling Tira fall against him in surprise. Managing somehow to keep her behind him his breathing calmed, anger slowly consuming him as his eyes strained forward. Time had indeed passed, yet the gaze of his comrade remained in self shame, that same inescapable acceptance still plaguing his will.

"Please my Prince... " Xion's hand remained outstretched, small flares erupting in the air around his fingertips, still not willing to face the accusing glare of someone both a long lasting friend and associate. "You cannot do this." Behind the Arbiter stood a row of elite soldiers, fashioned in armor hiding their humanity and brandishing the colors and symbols of their proud clan. Everything seemed disillusioned, people no longer entitled to individuality and subjugated by their own very being. His body straining to control his emotions, Jun didn't dare speak, fearing what could follow toward people he had no intention to hurt. A gentle touch followed, Tira's hand falling softly against his shoulder, a silent plea to remain calm and not resort to something regrettable. "I no longer respond to that name. I no longer will subject myself to this decep-"

(Cont in next post...)

[MoMoMix]

He stopped mid-sentence, hearing and sensing something behind him moments to late, pain slowly collecting in his back. Electricity ran through his body, enough to override his tolerance as he fell forward, voicing his agony with cries of complete torture. Just as quickly as it arrived it dissipated, his arms cradling his own stomach, hoping the worst of the pain had passed. He seemed exhausted in recovering, unable to regain his stature and confused by this sudden weakness. Breathing slowly, it was then that his senses regained alertness and the pain returned greater then before. Her arms wrapped around his chest, sapphire tears fell against his shoulder as he realized the burden now resting on his shoulders. "T-Tira..?" Please.. A response.. Anything... Silence would only prove his fears and force acceptance, nothing comforting him save the last beats of her pulsating heart, finally finding eternal rest.

"Such a disappointment..." Mother? Cradling his fallen love he looked behind him, horrified to see the visage of Tira's murderer in the careless eyes of his own blood. "Release yourself from this childish fantasy! Generations have endured isolation to satisfy the security of the people, yet you'd sacrifice the fates of many for your own petty desires? Honestly.. I-"

"Shut up..." Complete quiet followed, Jun slowly picking up the limp form that many could only associate as a treachery from the lands of Rain. His stride remained questionable as he attempted to maintain his composure, the whole time unwilling to gaze at anyone else, not wishing to remain conscious of this ordeal. Blood flowed through the cloak matted against her frail body, running down his arms and joining his own in a morbid connection. There wasn't any difference... "I am royalty first and your mother second... You must understand..." Accepting complete exile from his own homeland he forsaken any sentiment offered, only concerned with the final rites of the recently departed. "There is no difference in blood...

I am no Prince...

I am no son....

I am myself."

Leaving the political capital of Storm without any further interruptions, the blood-pact that had united the lands in a disjointed era of peace had ended. Believing it was entitled and the proper thing to do, the burial rights of one clan was for the first time conducted on another whose blood was different. Burning the body of Lady Tira and disregarding the separation enforced by the Bloodline Tradition, the land was thrown into absolute fear at the belief of an inevitable conflict between those underneath the skies.

The blood flowing through our veins finds difference only in the idealistic nature of individuality and trivial creation of hatred and lack of acceptance. To some it is the definition of a person by default, distorted enough to be utilized as a catalyst for identification and purpose.

Status..

Heritage...

Who are you...?

---

Finished. Thank you for your time. I'm sure it isn't needed, but please keep all responses respectful.