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Once Upon A Black Sunrise
Stories:: Original:: Action/Adventure/Tragedy - Rating: Teen - Submit comments here

Once there was peace among all creatures. They worked together harmoniously towards a common goal – to survive; to live. But, as everyone knows, such peace cannot last.

Vicious rumors started spreading, battles fought, blood spilt. But nothing was accomplished other than a very lasting prejudice on some creatures’ parts.

The land of Penosophes was thus split into four realms: the Demon realm in the north, the Alavelo Realm to the east, the Gatteon realm to the south, and the Human realm to the west.

Pacts were made forming alliances or promising not to invade other lands. Some have lasted the test of time; others were broken and wars fought, few of which were reformed after wartime.

Each realm has its own history, its own customs, and its own races. Each realm also has its own views towards the others.

The Humans are possibly the simplest of the races on Penosophes. Their technology is not very far past the others’, and their weapons remain mere swords and bows and arrows. They have a very vast army, but they do little more than intimidate the enemy. Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, Humans believe themselves above the other races on the continent, referring to the others as “sub-human”. The only alliance they have ever held up was one with the Gatteons long, long ago. But that was broken when a rogue Gatteon attacked a human village.

The Demons have by far the smallest land area to their realm, most of it covered in harsh mountain ranges and immense plains covered in blankets of snow. Regardless, they’ve managed to thrive, separating themselves into three distinct groups: the Bloods, the Night-Walkers, and a group who call themselves “thieves”. The Bloods have managed to dominate Demon society for generations, being the most well-behaved and elegant; however, they still of a severe disliking of all the other races. The Demons have a pact with the other three realms promising neither to attack them, nor aid anyone else in an attack against them. Hence why they remain so independent of the others. Their weapons are swords and their ancient dark magic.

The Gatteons and the Alavelos are another story entirely. Both races are very similar, and yet so very different. Both have similar powers of transformation, and both are looked upon with disgust by Humans.

The Gatteons have a very Human-like appearance – until you notice the tail or cat ears on their head. They can transform into lion-like creatures at will, becoming much stronger and agile than in their humanoid form. Fur color ranges widely from a dull muddy brown to a bright pink or blue. In battle, they use their sharp claws, one good slash of which promises to be fatal.

The Alavelos also have Human-like appearances at first. If, of course, you discount the large wings sprouting from their back. Other than that, there is nothing suspect about them. They have the ability to transform into large bird-like beings. Their wings vary little in color, mostly neutrals – browns, black, white, and grays. Though they are a rather peace-loving race by nature, when forced into a fight, the use sharp talons and a bit of magic spoken in the ancient tongue of their race.

The only alliance still in existence is between the Alavelos and the Gatteons. For centuries they have been protecting each other, lending a hand when the demons start on one of their wanton killing sprees.

South of the continent, not far from Gatteon-inhabited land, are two islands. Since the Lions are not good at swimming, they have never been to investigate. The Birds have been, but report little more than forests and impassable mountain ranges. And hence, the islands were forgotten.

On the continent, everyone went on with their lives. Sure, there was a battle every now-and-then, maybe a disagreement over land and borders, or who owns what part of the river. But no one saw what was coming.

The day the Demons took over came and went quietly. There was no tolling of bells, no screaming. No warning.

Today, many call that day the end of the world. Others merely call it the dawn of a new era. Whatever you choose to call it, it doesn’t change the fact that nothing is as it once was.
* * *

As the day broke over the Human city of MaTroy, there was nothing to suggest that the day would be any different from those before it. Maybe if someone had noticed the single black cloud to cross the sun as it rose above the horizon, things might have turned out another way.

Three hours after sunrise – about nine am – is when the demons first attacked, descending over the tavern at the northern boundary of MaTroy. At that time, quite a few people were there. Not only the scattered traveler or two, preparing for a journey to lands unknown, getting in that last meal or drink before departing, but also the “regulars”, gossiping, talking, and threatening to start a fight every few moments.

Two travelers are sitting at the bar – a young, thin woman and a very tall and muscular broad-shouldered man. The man is staring moodily at an unopened bottle of wine and empty glass in front of him, while the woman chooses the much less classy drink of a mug of ale. When they speak to each other, it’s in low voices to avoid being heard despite the dull roar of the tavern.

The man is wearing a heavy black cloak, the hood drawn over his head. Fierce gold eyes, however, peered out from the dimness, fixated on the bottle in front of him. A lock of muddy brown-colored hair hung down over his right eye. Under the cloak, one could just barely make out his attire – an open white shirt, black pants, and tall brown boots. Bandages were wrapped around his forearms, though for an unknown reason. If you listened closely, you’d hear the woman calling him “Darren”, so this is what we shall call him.

His companion was noticeably smaller than him, and despite the fact she was perfectly normal-sized for a Human, looked like a child next to him. She was wearing a cloak similar to his, though hers was a deep green color and her hood was not drawn. Her eyes were much like Darren’s, in that they were very sharp. In color, however, hers were a cooler color of a silvery blue. Her straight silky raven hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, glinting in the light. Her attire was much more elaborate than her companion’s, though still very similar. Under her open white shirt (which, it must be noted, was a bit cleaner than Darren’s), bandages were wrapped very tightly around her chest, from her armpits down. Her pants, though plain, had a belt with two pouches accompanying them. And her boots had a bit of a heel to them, raising her by an extra inch or so. Darren calls her “Vinya”, so we shall use that, though it doesn’t seem to be her real name due to the tone which Darren uses when uttering it.
* * *

“You all right?” Vinya asked Darren, downing the rest of what the bartender had passed off as “ale”.

All she received from the man was a grunt. She looked over at him curiously, setting the empty mug down. “Darren,” she started, reaching out to touch his arm.

He withdrew almost immediately. “You know I am not happy, Vinya,” he told her, his voice deep and gruff.

She snorted, motioning the bartender over. “I know.”

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked her cheerily. “Another ale?”

“This wasn’t ale. What do you have in the way of liquor?”

“No, Vinya,” Darren said. “No liquor. Ale is all you’re allowed to. Ale or wine.”

With a frustrated sigh, Vinya pushed her glass across the bar. “Another… ‘ale’, then,” she muttered. The man nodded and with another smile, went to refill her glass.

“Please drink something,” Vinya told Darren. “You are too uptight when you’re sober. And we should be leaving soon. We’ve got quite a journey ahead of us; you know that.”

He didn’t respond as the barkeep came back with Vinya’s drink. “So you both are travelers?” he asked.

“Yes,” the woman answered simply.

“Whereabouts are you traveling to?” he continued.

Vinya eyed him. “Far away. Away from here. Away from any civilization.” With that, she lifted the mug to her mouth and gulped down a good third of the alcohol.

The bartender, however, seemed to think she was joking and laughed. “There’s no way you’d be traveling that far. You are much too… petite. Small. Young ladies like you don’t make it out there, even if you have a big guy like him with you,” he told her.

Vinya’s eyes narrowed. “I am not weak, old man. If only I could--- ”

“Vinya, stop,” Darren’s voice interrupted her. It was not a command as much as it was a statement. But nonetheless, Vinya quieted, sinking back in her seat.

“Darren…? Can we leave soon?” she asked as the door opened and the bartender went to attend to the newcomer. She shifted her shoulders back and forth a few times. “I need to be out in the open again. Free. I’m in pain; you know that.”

“It was your choice to come here.” With a sigh, Darren pulled the bottle and glass towards him. “This will be my last drink in months on this journey. So relax. I’m going to savor this.”

The next few minutes passed in silence – between Darren and Vinya, at least. A brawl had started up in the background, though neither of them took notice. Nor, it should be noted, did the bartender.

A few people came and went. Each person, Vinya was watching out of the corner of her eye – perhaps she was just a bit paranoid from traveling so much. But even her eyes – so sharp when it came to noticing details – didn’t catch anything weird about the newest person to enter the building. He was cloaked, yes; his face hidden, yes; but so were a lot of people – so was Darren.

But as the bartender started talking to the newcomer, Darren froze, the glass touching his lips.

“What?” Vinya asked, though careful not to let her eyes stray to anyone or anything. “What is it?”

Slowly, Darren set his glass down. “That being is not… is not human,” he said in a low voice.

Vinya couldn’t help herself and glanced over. “That’s bad,” she said suddenly, turning her head again, back to Darren. “We need to leave. Now.”

Darren didn’t need convincing. He set a few gold pieces on the bar for payment and they both stood. With little hesitation, they made their way for the door.

As they passed the cloaked man now sitting at the end of the bar, however, he stood. Vinya kept her eyes down, and continued walking. But before she could reach the door, there was a hand on her shoulder. Assuming it was Darren, she turned.

Before she could react, another hand shot towards her, closing in around her throat.

“Sir! Please, put her down!” the bartender cried as the cloaked figure slowly started raising Vinya into the air. “Drop her,” Darren said threateningly, his hands curling into fists.

Silence fell over the crowded tavern, the brawl halting. Everyone was looking towards the cloaked figure holding the raven-haired woman a good three feet from the ground. She tried to splutter an order, but nothing came.

“Put… her down,” Darren said again, but once more the order went ignored.

“What do we have here?” a voice came from the shadows beneath the hood. “A young human girl?”

“Sir, please, put her down--- ”

“Shut it, old man,” he snapped at the bartender. “This… is no Human.”

“You will not get another warning,” Darren’s eyes narrowed. “Drop her.”

“Not Human?” The whispers began circulating throughout the room. “She’s not Human?”

“Of course she’s not human,” the man holding her up laughed. “Have you ever seen such spectacular eyes? The color is not natural!”

Darren growled something else, but was said through clenched teeth and was not understood. But the general meaning could have been understood by anyone, considering the fact that his fists were shaking.

“This is not just any sub-human, however.” He brought Vinya closer, her feet brushing the ground as she clawed at his arm. “This is a most wonderful catch.”

Out of nowhere, a great lion-like creature launched himself at the man, knocking him to the ground. Vinya went flying from his grip, skidding across a table and landing at the feet of a young woman across the room. The woman let out a shrill shriek, and the sound brought Vinya back to her senses. Standing and brushing herself off, she swept across the room towards the lion and the man pinned to the ground.

“Darren, withdraw,” she barked. When the lion backed off, she leaned down and lifted the man by his collar into the air. His hood had fallen, revealing jet black hair, short pointed ears, and brilliant crimson eyes. Another woman screamed, and murmurs began up again. “Demon!”

“Who are you?” Vinya demanded off the demon.

“First, who are you?” he smirked at her. “You and your friend there.” He nodded at the lion, who growled at him.

“My identity matters not! You have broken a very old pact! Never to leave your realm; the Demon realm! What are you doing among Humans?” she shouted, shaking him violently.

He merely laughed. “What are you doing among humans, Princess?”

She dropped him, and he fell roughly to the ground. “I don’t care how you know who I am. All I care is that you get out of here. You should not be here. If you do not leave, we will attack.”

“Beasts!” a piercing yell filled the room. “Beasts! All three of you!”

Shouts joined in. Vinya glared at the people in the room. “Do you not care that there is a Demon here? One of the Bloods, no less?” she shouted at them, quieting them slightly.

“He is one of the sub-humans!” a man bellowed, pointing at Darren. “The Demon also called you a sub-human!”

“Not just any,” the Demon reminded the others in the room, standing up. “She’s the Princess. The Princess of crows to the east.”

Silence settled once again. “Princess Corvinia,” a man whispered.

“The sub-humans were not supposed to invade Human lands!” came a voice. “None of you! All three of you are at fault, breaking pacts!”

“We are not invading!” Vinya shouted at them angrily. “We did nothing to harm you – any of you! This Demon was the first to attack me! He is at fault the most, breaking the oldest of the still-remaining pacts!”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” the Demon said, a small chuckle emanating from him. Then it got louder. “The old pacts mean nothing anymore!”

Suddenly, there was a “thump” from the roof. Everyone looked up as another “thump” followed it. Then another. Vinya stepped forward, narrowing her eyes. There were dozens of more thumps, as if it was raining something very heavy. Then it stopped.
,br> “What in the goddess’ names--- ”

But she was cut off as a foot came through the roof. People ran out of the way as more feet followed.

The Demon stepped forward, smiling widely. “It’s our turn to make the rules,” he whispered to Vinya before disappearing in a cloud of gray smoke. “It’s our turn.”


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