Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Tides of Wine ❯ Elliott ( Chapter 1 )

Lysanthy

~Elliott~

 

Lord of Nimugain, Watcher of the Night Sky and of the Seas, Keeper of the Goddess of Fear, and most importantly, my father, glared at me and said the worst words that I had ever heard him speak.

"I am taking your immortality away for a year. In that time, you shall either prove your worth to me, or give up your title to your twin brother, Lysander. Do you understand me, Elliott?"

I was ready to protest. I was ready to reek havoc unto our home, to destroy it if you will. But under the eyes of my perfect brother, I kept my peace and bowed my head. "Yes, father." I said, obediantly, however grudgingly.

He continued, almost surprised by my lack of demurring. "You are henceforth banned from the northern territory, exiled from your home, and bound to walk the land as a human." My father was hiding something. I could hear it in his voice, so normally repressed. I had to think hard to comprehend what troubled him. What problems walked the grounds that we ruled? What crisis and chaos had broke the peace of our home?

I bit my lip in frustration. Lysander spoke. I stopped bowing and turned to face him with fire burning in my eyes. He was my mirror, my twin, and my equal. What a pathetic lie that was. In appearance, we were the same but for colors. I was born just before the dawn. He was born after.

As immortals go, time of birth meant everything. Children born at night were usually evil and useless. Those born by the light of the sun were superior. They were far more intelligent and had unusual talents of their own. He was the day child. I was the night.

We were both six feet tall with the same steady build and excellent posture. Our hair was adorned in the same fashion. We were not allowed to cut it, so it hung as far as our knees at an even length. Mine was jet black; his was yellow-blonde. Our eyes both held the same catlike slits as their pupils, but his eyes were a lively blue while mine were green. This made me unusual. No immortal had ever been born with green eyes. Not to say that there were ever many immortals, but still this was an abnormal trait. All immortals had either silver or blue eyes of varying shades and they all bore our symbol in matching color. An upside down 2 was the symbol that marked one of us. We do not know why it is a 2. Some say that is because we are second to the Gods and thus second in command of the world.

I think this is ridiculous and that people are just never willing to accept the fact that not everything has to have a purpose.

I am a prime example.

Either way, nothing would ever make me love or even like my brother, but there wasn't a person in existence who could make me lower myself to his level. "You should take advantage of this, " he said. "Learn something about humans. It is an oppurtunity."

I wouldn't agree with him. I could not. "I think it will be a waste of time, but for you father," I said turning to him, "I will do as you say."

I knew that I was not just being punished for something. I could sense something else under my father's calm demeanor. I even think he understood that I knew what he wanted of me.

This was something that he could not fix himself. Normally, he would have turned to Lysander for this task, but not today. I would obey him, because I believed that he thought Lysander uncapable of completing a job that I was perfect for.

My only objection was the burden of loss that came with it. "If I tell my name to the people, they will deny me. If I tell my name to you, will you deny me as well?" I asked them both.

Lysander answered without a thought. What a careless bastard he was. "Yes."

My father waited for what seemed like eternity to finally reply in his most pained voice, "I would deny you."

I nodded and turned away from them both. "Then know, " I said, more to my father than Lysander, "That in a year's time, I will know you no longer. I will deny my place among you. I will only ask for my power returned to me, then I will leave."

Lysander barely contained his grin.

Father looked like he might cry.

I turned to leave, unable to pity him.

 

I went to my room, in the southern most corner of our palace, and changed out of my royal garments. I mostly felt saddened with the loss of the insignia that bore the crest of the Lysanthy's. It was embroided in silver on my green robes. I took nothing but the clothes on my back and a handful of coins.

Then I took one last glance at my room and left it forever. When I came into the hall, I was startled enough to jump. There, standing among the decorated stone corridors and on the soft green carpet, was my mother. Her name was Pain, the Goddess of Fear. I guess that made me a demigod, but the Supreme Laws stated that any half godling was to be deemed immortal and nothing more.

Still, my mother was not as bad as her title insisted. She was the most beautiful and kind person I knew, save for the whole Grim Reaper routine.

Her eyes were black. Her hair was blacker than black could possibly be. It fell in living waves all around her. Her skin was deathly pale, paler than mine. She was my guide in all things, and I loved her as no other son could love his mother.

I loved the way she would defy her brothers and sisters in the Upper Realms and wear our family crest as if nothing else mattered. She only could not deny the colors. As the Angel of Death, she was not allowed to wear any colors other than black and white, and black had to dominate. I thought it suited her.

"Mother!" I chirped, startled out of my revering. "What are you doing here?"

She laughed. It was so light and carefree that it was disturbing. I felt chills creep up my spine, involuntarily. She was the only person who could do that to me. They didn't call her a Goddess of Darkness for nothing.

"I am here," she replied, "Because I know that you are leaving. I want to give you something that will help you on your journey."

"Mother, there is something amiss with all this. I have this strange feeling that you are not telling me something. What is it? Are you having those odd visions about me again? What is it?" I heard my voice, soaked in anxiety. The thought of those visions she had once told me of were depressing and very worrisome.

"I have had no more visions, but I have come to understand the old ones." She led me down the hall to the weaponry. We hardly had need of such a room, but there were precious items in it that my father had always said were very important.

She led me in.

The room was the strangest in the palace. It's walls were wooden and engraved with wild silver vines. It was shaped like an ocatgon, with odd looking weapons on every wall. My mother reached up and grabbed a black sheath from the back wall. She gave it to me. In it's grasp were two swords, mirror images of each other.

I slid the blades out to observe them. "Rind is the right one and Byeh is the left." She informed me. I stored that bit of information into my memory, before placing an enormity of my attention on what she was saying. "About ten thousand years ago, a God died in order to create these two swords so that his beloved Goddess could fight the Stars and retrieve her golden wings so she could fly free from the heavens."

"She fought and won, but she did not get golden wings. Instead she got feathered wings of silver and flew straight into the Underworld."

I frowned. "That's a very depressing story, Mother." I informed her. She threw an impatient glance at me and continued. "There she fell in love with the God of the Moon and forgot all about her first love, the God of the Sun, but she kept the swords. They haunted her. When she had two children, boys, she gave each of them a sword and named them after the mighty blades."

"Rind and Byeh are your uncles." She told me. "They died during the Cosmos Invasion. Right before they died, they told me to give the swords to one of my children. Only one. They were my brothers, Elliott, and I am giving their swords to you."

I pushed the blades back into the sheath and gave her a skeptical look. "Why?"

"Because were Lysander to even touch those swords, they would devour him." She sighed and came to put her arms around me. I leaned into her embrace, instinctively. "Even your father is afraid of me, for being the Goddess of Fear, but you have never ever been afraid of me, have you?"

I puzzled over this. "No. Never."

"That is why. Lysander fears me and only me. That is why he hates me so. He hates you as well." She stroked my hair, and I sighed. "I still don't understand, Mother. Why take my strengths away from me?"

"Because you stand before me now, not knowing what will happen, but nor are you afraid. Because you will be human for a year and learn from it. Because, one day, I know you will surpass us all in everything that you do." I could hear the words unspoken.

"I won't see you again, will I?" I said.

"Not physically as I am today. I shall speak to you in dreams, as I have in the past, but certain things are ocurring that will separate you from us." She pulled away. "Go see your father before you leave and your brother as well."

"But-" I was cut off.

"See him." She ordered, meaning Lysander.

Then she was gone.

 

I went to see my brother first. I said one word and left. A simple "Goodbye" was plenty enough to say to him. He only grunted and turned away.

When I found my father, he shoved something resembling a rather large green blanket in my face. "What the hell is this?" I snapped out in surprise. He huffed a reply. "It's a cloak. It was my father's."

I understood what he meant by it. A family heirloom. Our last connection. "Thanks, Dad." He grinned a little at that.

"I-" I had to stop myself. I had almost said something I would regret. "I'll miss you." I finished, wrapping the humongous cloak around my shoulders, refusing to meet his eyes. Then I was distracted by how well the material fit me. I couldn't believe how light it felt.

I turned back to my father, genuine respect shining in my eyes. "Thankyou, Father." I then hugged him. I had never done that before, but he returned it naturally. I pulled away and balked when I saw the tears shining in his eyes. I bit my lip. "Goodbye."

I left without looking back.