Chapter 202 Birth?
Fiyra had ascended as the Phoenix clan head, marking a significant era of recovery and stability for his kind. This achievement followed the tumultuous aftermath of the last war between the Phoenixes and Dragons, a bitter conflict that had left scars that still throbbed in their memories. Despite the peace reigning over their realm now, the pain of the past lingered.
Ignisara, the previous Phoenix clan head, had been a close friend of Falkor, the Dragon God himself. Their friendship had helped heal the wounds of animosity, but Falkor made it clear that while Ignisara had been his friend, it didn't absolve the entire Phoenix Clan of their role in the war. Forgotten were the original reasons for the conflict, but its legacy endured through the centuries.
Fiyra was a young leader, burdened with the legacy of his lineage and the expectations that came with it. As the grandson of Ignisara's brother, he carried the bloodline of their last clan head.
"Me?"When Svarog unexpectedly pointed at him as "The Chosen One," Fiyra was left bewildered. His name had been summoned into this critical discussion, and he struggled to comprehend why.
"This is my blessings, it's something that is truly meant for someone I trust and I see the potential in you and the bright future you hold."Svarog's explanation unraveled as he conjured a brilliant azure ball of energy, his blessings meant for someone he deemed trustworthy and full of potential. The energy floated gracefully throughout the arena before gently reaching Fiyra. The young Phoenix leader found himself at the center of attention, still grappling with the sudden significance placed upon him.
Meanwhile, seated beside Fiyra was Ashara, an enchanting beauty and the daughter of .....Ignisara.
fiery-red hair that cascades down her back in waves, accentuating her striking appearance. Her emerald-green eyes hold a depth of wisdom and experience, framed by gracefully arched eyebrows.
Her facial features are well-defined, with high cheekbones and full, sensuous lips that often carry a warm and inviting smile. Ashara's figure is curvaceous, with an alluring hourglass shape that suggests both sensuality and confidence. She carries herself with grace and poise, exuding an air of maturity and self-assuredness.
In her attire, Ashara often wears elegant, form-fitting gowns or robes that highlight her curves
Despite her divine lineage, Ashara was not the head of the Phoenix Clan. Her claim to be the daughter of Ignisara had been met with skepticism, as the revered Phoenix clan head had never been known to mate with anyone. Found in the remnants of a war-torn castle chamber after the conflict's conclusion, she had grown up in the clan. Though her assertions were doubted, Ashara was embraced as one of their own and had become an elder sister figure to Fiyra.
"Congratulations, Fiyra," Ashara offered a smile to her brother, though her eyes betrayed a sense of unease as they lingered on Svarog, the god. Her expression didn't go unnoticed by the others gathered there.
But she couldn't hold her curiosity any longer and decided to address Svarog directly, a weighty task for her. "May I ask, my Lord, what this means?" she inquired, seeking clarity regarding Fiyra's newfound status and the responsibilities it entailed.
Svarog, the god, provided an explanation. "He'll be sent to the lower realm to fight when the time comes, and until then, he must nurture the gift I've bestowed upon him," he clarified. With that, Svarog concluded the gathering, expressing his gratitude for their presence, and revealing the constraints that bound the gods to their current location.
Silence hung heavy in the air as the attendees grappled with the unexpected turn of events. Crystalwing and his brothers and sister eventually rose from their seats, bowing respectfully to the gods before departing the arena. Crystalwing had sought one question, and he was content with the response. He had no desire to entangle himself once more in the affairs of the lower realm and the unpredictable actions of the gods.
As they departed, Zephyr, Crystalwing's brother, posed a thoughtful question. "Still, brother, what are these gods planning this time? After the events of the last war, do you believe Azra still possesses such formidable power, even after being sealed away?"
Crystalwing halted his steps, turning to glance at the vast assembly of powerful beings who had come to witness the announcement. None among them voiced any objections or concerns. They knew better than to underestimate Azra, considering the catastrophic consequences of their previous encounter.
"Gods have always been enigmatic, brother," Crystalwing responded with a hint of resignation. "It's best not to delve too deeply into own discussions.
Falkor couldn't hold back his frustration any longer. He addressed their machinations." He resumed his walk, feeling the weight of Erebus's gaze upon him.
"We ought to keep them at arm's length, for the safety of our realm," he muttered to himself as he vanished into the space rift, leaving behind the enigma of the gods and their impending conflict.
....
The gods, left alone in their otherworldly chamber after the departure of the mortals and guardians, were now engaged in their own discussions.
Falkor couldn't hold back his frustration any longer. He addressed Svarog with a sharp question, clearly displeased with the choice that had been made. "Svarog, what were you thinking when you bestowed your blessing upon that insignificant Phoenix girl? Did you not consider granting it to the human boy we brought from another world?" His clenched jaw betrayed his irritation.
Svarog, ever the calm and enigmatic figure, settled back onto his throne as the surroundings shifted once again. The arena transformed into a vast chamber with pristine white walls stretching into the distance. He began to explain his rationale. "I believed that choosing someone with a more prestigious lineage was the wiser choice, and Fiyra possesses that advantage over the human boy," Svarog stated, defending his decision to the gods.
Falkor, however, was unappeased, and his frustration continued to show. "Then why not bestow it upon a warrior from the Dragons or
—" He couldn't fathom why such an important opportunity had been granted to the Phoenix Clan.
"What are you thinking?"Erebus, who had been silent throughout the conversation, finally spoke up in a soft voice, directing a question to Svarog. He had observed Svarog's interest in Ren Hilton, the boy from another world, and wondered why the decision had changed.
Svarog contemplated Erebus's question carefully before responding. "That boy is a lost cause," he sighed, his tone carrying a hint of detachment. "He was not meant to be a part of our grand design."
Geb, still dissatisfied, grumbled his discontent. "Then why summon him here? It's a waste of time," he complained, well aware of the effort required to perform such a summoning and feeling that it had been squandered on a seemingly ordinary man.
Svarog contemplated the answer for a moment, clearly conflicted. "I thought that manipulating his future would be more straightforward. Someone who can foresee the future, as boy can, could have been invaluable to us," he explained, acknowledging the unique abilities Ren possessed.
Erebus, however, remained persistent. "And why choose Fiyra?" he inquired, wanting to delve deeper into the reasoning behind Svarog's choices.
Svarog's response was cryptic, as he let a strange glint of amusement creep into his voice. "Must I provide a reason?" he posed the question, hinting at a deeper, undisclosed motive.
Erebus didn't press further, instead leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes, allowing the darkness to envelop him. The other gods also began to engage in various activities, seeking their own forms of entertainment. Meanwhile, Svarog pulled up a screen and muttered to himself, "Who altered the system?" It was clear that Ren had become increasingly elusive and difficult for the gods to track.
Svarog, ever the calculated and strategic deity, delved into every possibility Ren Hilton could offer. He attempted to explore any potential usefulness the human boy might bring to the grand design of the gods. However, no matter what Svarog tried, it seemed that Ren's fate was sealed—he met death at every turn. Each time, the outcome was the same, leaving Svarog with no choice but to conclude that Ren was not a bet worth placing, for he appeared to be destined to perish, no matter the path taken.
But was it.... right?
....
Ashara walked beside her younger brother, Fiyra, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. She couldn't help but feel a combination of pride, concern, and curiosity about the path he was about to embark on.
Ashara glanced at her brother and broke the silence between them. "Fiyra, are you ready for this?" Her voice was soft but filled with genuine concern.
Fiyra's eyes, a striking shade of golden-red, met hers. He took a deep breath, trying to hide his nervousness. "I think so, Ashara. It's just... unexpected. I never imagined I'd be chosen for something like this."
She gave him a reassuring smile. "You have the potential, Fiyra. I've always believed in you. Just remember to stay true to yourself, no matter what challenges lie ahead."
Fiyra nodded, his confidence growing as he looked at his sister. "Thank you, Ashara. Your belief means the world to me."
Ashara, who had been walking alongside Fiyra, suddenly came to a halt.
"Huh?" Fiyra turned to look at her, noticing that she had frozen in place. She clutched her chest, her face drained of vitality, and her eyes filled with a wild, frenzied look.
"M-mother," she managed to mutter before collapsing, her body going limp and lifeless.
...
Inside the office, two figures faced each other. One was Headmaster Stormborne, and the other was Falco.
"I didn't know the young master was here," Stormborne brewed a cup of tea for the son of God. Falco chuckled and accepted it.
"I was here for something Father assigned me to do, so I thought, why not meet you before going back?" Falco smiled, his eyes resembling his father's.
"Is that all?" Stormborne wasn't convinced, and he had a reason not to be.
"Haha, you know then," Falco stood up from his seat and continued, "Aron Adiel Velcrow. Try to keep that boy out of trouble for a while. Make sure he stays alive." With those words, he walked toward a large window and vanished, heading back.
"Father and son are just the same... this time it's Aron, the first prince, huh." Stormborne leaned back, taking a sip of his tea, but his face contorted as he spat it out. It was too sweet.
The next moment, he felt a powerful surge of energy coursing through everything. Something significant was happening, but he wasn't sure what. He had to investigate, so he left the office immediately.
....
The dim light in the warehouse cast eerie shadows on the boy's figure as he continued to gasp for breath. His trembling hands were stained with blood, and his eyes, hidden behind the curtain of dark hair, held a mixture of exhaustion and sorrow.
It was a grim scene, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of those who had crossed his path. The boy's presence seemed like a haunting specter amid the death he had wrought.
As he looked up into the darkness, his thoughts remained a mystery, his emotions concealed beneath the layers of his enigmatic demeanor.
"Haa haa,"the boy's back arched in agony as an extraordinary transformation began. His muscles strained against his taut skin, and it seemed as though his body was fighting an internal war.
"Ugh,"Then, from his shoulder blades, a slow, agonizing process began. Feathers of vibrant crimson, shimmering gold, and fiery orange started to push their way through his flesh.
Tud*
The boy's body finally succumbed to unconsciousness. He slumped "Aghhhhhhhhhh,"The boy's pained cries filled the air as the feathers grew, forcing themselves out, unfurling into magnificent wings.
Each feather, a masterpiece of design, glinted in the dim light, revealing intricate patterns and a mesmerizing iridescence. As the wings continued to push outward, the fiery hues intensified, and the air around them seemed to shimmer with heat. It was as if these wings were forged from the essence of flames themselves.
Finally, with one last shuddering scream, it was... completed. The boy was now adorned with a pair of majestic phoenix wings, each spanned wide with fiery plumage, and they radiated a supernatural glow, casting a fiery aura upon the surrounding corpses.
Tud*
The boy's body finally succumbed to unconsciousness. He slumped forward, the newly formed phoenix wings cradling his fragile form.
Was Ren Hilton really that easy to die as Svarog thinks?
[A/N: Too many POV's huh...but they were necessary **nods**]
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