ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴋɪᴇs: ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏғ sᴘʏʀᴀ’ᴀʀᴀᴇ|ᴍɪsᴜ ɪɪ

PRT 1.

"Clear the skies..."

Hundreds maybe thousands of nigrescent, gleaming hulls, gathered on the fringes of Ayenee Prime. Ayenee's arrogance had mandated the use of such small forces to negate their prime position in the Elysium Spirals. However, they did not anticipate full confrontation. For them, this was to be a great day one that would outshine all other attempts at peace within the past, or at least make it appear as such. It would renew faith in the idealism of superiority, a belief essential for its success. But even it too held a menacing secret.

For numerous years the media had been advertising the militaries intentions to crush any 'resistant' forces with their 'state of the art technology' given by the Hegemony Corporations as an 'act' of partnership and amity. Flooding communication networks with propaganda proclaiming the Elysium people were the chosen (the superiors) over all other races, children of the ancient arcanes, birthing a new age of deific technology.

Spyra'Arae not a primary planet within the Ayenee Empire but it lay upon the edge of the largest moon, Misu II and contained only various small research facilities. It was, nonetheless, here that the mighty Ngahákzha had chosen to show the undeniable might of their squadrons, a force not even approaching the full size of the great Ayenee Navy. Valuing two things above all else – one being knowledge and the other power. Their desire for information had led to the formation of the 'Zhīzhū network', an viral entity genetically designed, capable of accessing most Empire's internal archives.

Every previous plan extracted from the Federation database on their assault strategies – even before the Ayenian commanders themselves had received the information. This permitted plans for the key battle that would initially take place near Spyra'Arae. It was merely stratagem to split the Svocan-Ayenian forces.

Divide and conquer by the practice of the federations own dishonest aspirations.

[ᴜᴀʀ] ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʟʏsɪᴜᴍ sᴘɪʀᴀʟ

Lao'Taun: Space; for most it was the unlimited frontier, the medium between planets, between star systems between spirals. It was a cold, ever changing expanse that brought fortune upon those strategic and ambitious enough to cease it. It was a coffin for trillions who had fallen short of victory. Four Spirals occupied... Thirteen Military Arms...The Umarian Astral Raquamothla had conquered some of the greatest space faring nations to have ever risen. It was just the beginning, a mere step within the path that had been the vision of Lao'Taun. The weak fell, and the strong prevailed and the celestial symphonic resounded through all of creation with their tales.

Some endeavors of the nation grew of things greater than victory, and it was upon that premise that the UAR once more sat upon the boundaries of the Elysium Spiral. A journey which had now come to this sordid place once more brought forth the knock upon the door which beheld a greater force which had been used before; it was a signal, a specialized and obvious declaration of their arrival. The ancient, mysterious calls of the space-born leviathans resounded from one honeycomb-like domain of subspace to the next, like that of calling whales within a vast and limitless ocean. A call which would be harmonized as those representatives confined to those dominions too called out, heralding the arrival of the great conductor of the celestial symphonic himself.

The unaligned corporate syndicates operating within the Hellespawn System bore the brute of the initial waves of incoming horde, unprepared and inadequate vessels were shattered into derelicts, unsealed tombs from which the dead drifted away from. The 'knock upon the door' which had come years before was muted under what was a wave of unfathomable strength. The  Miqursha-Rlarhau Military Arm, along with several vessels belonging to the Nyiathians had been granted the honor of being the leading edge of the massive dedicated force that traveled with Lao'Taun and the Yughoshi Materna Chonyosa.

vιιι. вlαcĸ αrαcɴιdια

'Man must divine himself from his "soul" and, in turn, set his soul free to divinity.'

"You concern me with you listless silences"

"Erm... how? It is just a moment to reflect without the mere spoils of sound, nothing beats a little... spiritual naja haja"

"Because I concerned with all of this paraphrasing by definition work you do concerning our 'darker' manuscripts, and the preciseness you strive for in syntax."

"Well... there is the blight against the written word among our relations, and the barriers it seems are weak. Of course there is need for concern."

Eye balls now in complete glower of a feral intensity,"How many legends have there been, finishing with the bard, storyteller or author vanishing, never to be seen or heard from again..."

"It is what it is!"...

"Mam! It wasn't all that long ago it happened to one of our own research team." Spoke the lab-tech assistant with a receding, "hairless" head, the Norian male with no facial visage and parched thin lips, smirked at this unrefined morsel of education. Then, the puny 5'6 quantum-mechanic of prominent excellence and distinction; a 'Proletarian' folkloresque no less, though classed as a nerd who enjoyed adding his two-cents worth of verbiage...

"If you imply that the self-styled 'Dr.G,Schzult', the Ayenian profanitist who, with his cluster-fuck of supporters, venerated Sa'zsthishog-Yg’ke? This 'unknown' who... mind you, not even the Prisci give permission for it to be spoken let alone remembered! Then to sell that knowledge as a fictional carnival or presented as the Elder Gods and Oddity Calender of the year-- all for personal gain!...I do it for those who can't translate the original language, whose own monks, mages and priests can't  interpret it or haven't learned the required elements of the diverse and various segments of the transcripts, so that perhaps in some spark of wisdom and growing a clue we may get our philosophy a little more sacred with wisdom."

ᴇνᴇɴ тнᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ нᴀνᴇ тнᴇıʀ sтσʀıᴇs тσ тᴇʟʟ [νᴀмρıʀᴇ тᴀνᴇʀɴ]

Malice: Histories are written by war, and told by the tongues that survive them.

For as long as anyone could remember, there had always been a Tavern at the crossroads, always been a place to drown their day and temper their troubles with copious amounts of mead. When the door groaned then, and swung inward as if their town were now a western, not a single soul stirred from their revelry; for travellers were as frequent here, as the clouds that perpetually seemed to smother the sun. A rhythmic tapping sound heralded the stranger's arrival, as a cane slowly navigated the labyrinth of tables and legs; propelling the weary features of its owner not toward the bar, but instead the source of the commotion that now infested the room's interior. A raucous youth, draped in a melodramatic cape and surrounded by a host of his peers, was already mid-boast when the old man entered, and as he neared, he discerned the closing statements of, what had undoubtedly been a far longer claim. “I was there when the towers fell, their nine spires turned to shards, and dust. I fought alongside giants, like Delioncourt, and Darkness, whose armies tore these lands apart, and struck terror into the hearts of their foes."

Edging ever closer, like a boat born toward the shore, the stranger allowed himself a smile, a brief and ugly thing upon cankered lips such as his; as names older than the books that held them danced anew within the air, evoking awe for one brilliant fleeting moment, before they were lost again amongst the pages of time. Fortunately though, one of the more astute of the youth's admirers dared to voice the nagging question that had suddenly sprung up within his mind “But those battles happened thousands of years ago, how could anyone still be alive from those days?”, a valid question, whose answer the stranger had long known, before ever he had entered the establishment. The youth, however, seemed excited by the prospect of someone challenging his tale, almost as if he'd been eagerly anticipating its arrival; and with an exaggerated flourish of his cloak, he flashed his fangs and announced “Ah ha, well you see, I am a vampire!”. This revelation, the stranger realized, was the highlight of the creature's performance, because even as surprise coursed like a wave across the onlookers' faces, so too did human curiosity keep them strapped to their seats; allowing the vampire to continue its seductive story, and in doing so, secure their next meal when the evening waned.

тнᴇ ᴀscᴇɴsıσɴ σғ вᴇᴀsтʟʏ нσʀᴅᴇs

.:Prt I:.- The Birth of Ruze Mabada

~ Aegrescit medendo, Alea iacta est~

Venomous earth continued to proliferate with the insalubrious disease produced by her secretions. The intoxication broadening to engulf all that was living in its path, to plant more constructive seeds in the bodies of those choking corporeal congregation of man and beast. However, in the diverse effects of this particular venom, it would cause bodies to fuse together, one and one beast- even though there was little to tell the difference twixt the two. An extremely painful process, which involved the elongation of limbs as they were brutally twisted and deformed, snapping like brittle twigs beneath the demoralizing heel of otherworldly hilarity. Bones crushing as inflicted aggravated wounds that spawned into bloody orifices ready to engulf the other hungrily. Her corruptive taint now beginning the process of transforming them into colossal beasts of war; hideous beasts with only one purpose and that was extinction of all races before them. Coagulation and amalgamation, human form taking on the animalistic appearance of the animal most closest to them: boar, bull, eagle, elephant, rhino even the desert scorpion, spider and cobra. All creatures great and small.

Poisons rapidly coursing through their bodies and every drop of vitae from the suspended bodies of the slaves only feed it more, granting it an insatiable appetite for more blood and more death. The animals imbibed in the massive gaping wounds, only giving its victim those traits which made them special to the animal kingdom. With the elephant, strength, power and fortitude not to mention the tusks of ivory jutting out from either side of the maws, a protective hide and the sheer stomping force that made them famous in many legions in the history of war. The wild boar also renowned for its upper and lower tusks plus extremely sharp teeth designed to rip and dismember limbs in one single bite. A bite which worked in multiple ways when fatal inflicting damage upon its prey or target, even their speed outwitted the swiftest hunter and add their wrath and volatile temperament that subjected it to frenzy- there was another formidable warrior in the making. 

ᴀтʀᴀ'ʟᴀмıᴀ [тнᴇ ᴅᴀʀκвᴀɴᴇ ʟᴇɢᴀcʏ]

"Is there justice in this, to balance the world's inequity, or benefit to outweigh its loss? I have retrieved from the darkness the years and the things that were lost to me, they are held now in the light of my dreams, and my path is finally... clear."

What was given can always be taken back… it was the way of all things when taken for granted or abused by foolish and cowardly action; such as this was never a toleration of the cult known as Darkbane- though only those truly imbued with the blood could know this, that of the first and second generations who were given the blood of Pandora upon initiation as well as the scourge of the ‘Malum Singultus’ commonly known as the ‘Death Rattle’ a grueling procedure than involved the branding of both body and soul then running the gauntlet of the clan and partaking in the tests set out before the leaders of the cult- fight to the death with other recruiting members; it was simply live or die to prove your worth before the eyes of Pandora. The history is long and scandalous filled with loyalty, twists and betrayals… just like any other saga is has its triumphs and setbacks one thing that cannot be disputed is that the name still lives on this day.

Even as a child Satrina had an unnerving fetish for torture and blood. An insatiable madness that inspired her interest in the dark arts of thaumaturgy and genetic alterations; to alter the living & undead creatures into ghastly abominations using her potent abilities of magickal prowess and knowledge and use her ‘pets’ against the legions of her 'adopted' father and mother. She was a dangerous sorceress even then but she began to crave something more, a far darker purpose in her existence… destruction. Not just for her parents but also everything above, below and within. The complete obliteration of hell, void, earth and heaven… and it was this thirst which aided her in the means of breaking from the underworld and entering the world, known as Eden. (Yahoo 'Romance' aka Mance).

sᴀтʀıɴᴀ ᴇıтᴀɴ─κıʀı [вıσɢʀᴀρнʏ]

...his orchid of immortal bloom.

Shadows mix and merge beneath the crimson sky, coalescing to form those perfect trysts of light and plethora danced and merged to form that perfect darkness this realm knew so well. There was naught left but the ruins of those bitter memories; perhaps some too had been good, though days and years were long it was hardly like she knew what happiness was... when coming back to this place under the shadows of the Empire? There was nothing like looking on the crumbs, of the unholy and divine knew of her conquests, oceans of blood sweeping over the land. But, was she the only one remaining to perceive such greatness or lust for power? In the end did it really even matter, for who was there to grace it or embrace it, besides the ghosts that haunted the darkness behind those cold, stygian eyes? Perhaps it was more disturbing this barely caused a flinch on that perfect pale facade, emotions unstirred as those eyes scathed the abandoned vestiges, untouched, reserved, poised. A soft muted scoff emitted twixt those crimson-arches of lips, sweet breath stirring the elements while long rivulets of ravenesque tresses flowed, shaking... shaking in disbelief of all that this family had seen, reduced to nothing and the scapes of its lands inhibited by peasants and the lepers known to her, as mankind.

. |‡| . MINUTIAE . |‡|. “When darkness is at its darkest, a star shines its brightest.”

||GENERALE—

☩ Birth Name: Xae'Za'afiel Sheitânii.
☩ Known Name: Satrina Sheitânii Eitan Kiri.
☩ Formally known as: Atra'Lamia Darkbane.
☩ Primary Title(s): Aester (Empress) of Lorenz.
☩ Secondary Title(s): Imperial Concubine [Lao'Taun].
☩ Previous Title(s): Sovereign of the StarSide, Maest of the LCV Voltian, Queen of Eden|Tenaria, The Scourge of Ayenee.
☩ Pseudonyme(s): The Bringer of Pestilence, The Black Widow, The Dark (or Black)  Orchid.
☩ Visible Age: 20 years old.
☩ Date of Birth: [unknown].
☩ Gender: Female.
☩ Visible Ethnicity: Oriental Human-esque.
☩ Affiliation: None.
☩ Religion: [unknown].
☩ Common Language(s): Norian-Espra|Latin|Enochian|Saatthan|Ske'kell-stha|English.
☩ Nature: Vindictive, Cunning, Manipulative & Seductive.
☩ Periodic Timeframe: From the Fall of the Gardens of Eden -- Futuristic Ayenee|Nova Surrune|Lorenz|Elysium Spiral.

ωнᴇɴ ᴀ ωσмᴀɴ ıs ғσυɴᴅ!

Virulent: The Eastern side of the city was predominately technologists, and the coming settlers who had come from the former Chrystalian Republic now that they had fallen under the rule of the true Chrystalis. The Western Half of the city however, the last place where the sun's piercing rays had reached after the magnificent towers of Castle Ayenee VI at the center of the City and the Portal District, where critical connections back to Ayenee, Tenaria, and the other Olde realms had been opened to allow for easy travel to what had now been described as the new frontier, the lands of opportunity - Ayemvu. New The Western side of New Ayenee bore the tapestries of the Lorenzian Empire, and its powerful allies that had savagely pounded a path across the old realms which had ended with their Emperor's rise to Chancellor. 

Virulent: Towering Spires of Temples devoted to the Esprarthiquayito and the mages who had solemnly swore their lives to serving the Manifestient and his workings since long before even the first Castle Ayenee had been built by Varsinax. Looming barracks, stables, and armories thinned out into the military yards that were still flooding with inbound soldiers from the old realms sprawled outwards towards the traditional rise of A-frame homes and the spiraling dance of smoke from their chimneys that scented the air of maple-wood, and cherry. The dark places of the expectant Darkbanes laid outwards towards the frontiers, joining the dirt roadways that lead towards Ferrai and the infamous Iron Dove Tavern and Inn owned by the Eitan himself.

Virulent: The words of one Chrystalian Nira, the late Aestaesys of Chrystalia had given birth to the thing he had threatened for decades, the beginning of mass immigrations from the old realms to the new, bearing conquers such as the Darkbane. Their Queen, Atra, already at work within the realms along with her legendary Warlord Malice. The massive sprawling metropolis, the jewel and capital of the realms Ayenee had been reborn, right in the middle of the realms that had once been forsaken as savage and uninhabitable. Even some of the rears of legends such as Armand DeLeon and Varsinax himself had managed their way through the portals to the new lands.

Virulent: The faint rays of the sun filtered through the panes of stain-glass arcs reflected in the polished stone floors of the Castle. The footfalls of the guard, the crackle of fires within the fireplaces were all the echoing murmurs from which one could draw sentiment. Sentiment that a Chancellor now turned Emperor found himself cultivating as he looked out the massive window out over the Eastern side of the City, watching as cranes swung to carry beams up the sides of one of the buildings still under construction as construction mecha acted as guides to ensure that the heavy beams didn't smash into one of the electronic billboards that was advertising the 'First Landing' concert that was being held at the Ryuusei Ampitheatre by Asune Thunder, one of the Chrystalian bands whose lead vocalist was Yuurei Daithilus, the son of Tisou and Reina.