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The phoenix shall rise!

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The phoenix shall rise!

Post by Admin on Mon Oct 21, 2013 7:24 pm

It should be around here somewhere. Quick, this way." Tristin's voice boomed as he led the way to unearth what would now be his. An army of his trusted men and finest steeds pursued along with. Days has it been since each breathing lad saw complete daylight. The tall and prominent redwoods were not scarce in their trek. Each winding path stood more than five erect. By the by, it had become quite troublesome to maneuver a horse around it. Tugging the reigns on his dearly loved geld, seers of an orchard hue caught sight of the once formidable establishment, embellished with its own catastrophe. Thrilled, the first born prince of Rakdos led his followers through. Stallions neighed in unison while each master steered them on forth. One, on the other hand, galloped past the array and rode alongside its sire. "Ah my dear sister. I thought we've left you there…" A toothy grin displayed upon his lips while teasing the fourth daughter of Rakdos that sat stoic on Typhon. Without response, her fingers held tight on the reigns and proceeded to jet past the lot; she had commanded her noble one to take the lead. Tristin smirked, shortly following. Alas, competition unyielding, the two raced towards their final destination. All soon halted to study the display. Tragedy had befell on this once prime domain. Pillars collided amongst each other ailing all passers. Ivy clothed and masked its fine grandeur for who could now see the beauty it used to take upon. Now, grief and disappointment only exuded from its remains. "Be ready! We may not know what hath taken refuge inside Kastino." Tristin alerted all before ascending the steps of his late father's abode. Deiah kept her distance behind him, her cautious orbs perused about. "The phoenix shall be awaken…and I shall see to it.." Tristin muttered; his fingers tracing the emblem of his forefathers embedded on the tall doors that hindered their passage. With a strong push, the dim hallway remained empty to greet all before, but boldly did archaic gusts render men a daze. The soft patter of butterflies landed upon their mistress's shoulder before taking their fluttering need inside this dark corridor. "Here, M'lord" A man would hand his authority a torch before the lad sought passage into his old home. Nostalgia crept onto each royal. They had once called Kastino their own. For years did this infrastructure bring an assortment of worth, entreating all its inhabitants to protect its humble beginnings. However, the death of a ruler led to its perishable ending. The foyer articulated its age: Cobwebs spanned each crevice, portraits covered in dust and furniture torn astray. Defeated would one feel upon finding this site. Tristin sighed while his eyes fell upon his younger sibling. In return, Deiah's orbs found that of her brother's. Each shared a momentary gaze of disappointment followed by betrayal. Their gaze soon turned to the portrait before them. The huge frame displayed the departed and his brood. "Heh.." A fleeting chuckle escaped Tristin's lips, but not from his sister, who kept her solemn orbs upon the image. The princess had grown from when the painting was created, but her independence remained. "I think, you looked more odd back then than now…" Tristin teased as he placed his arm around Deiah's shoulder. With a quick shrug and an unpleased look on her face, the experimentalist turned her back and shortly roamed the area. "Alright! You all have been briefed with all tasks necessary. We shall have to make haste! The Empress and Emperor want a full report of this by sunset tomorrow!" Tristin's voice echoed with depth as he spoke. Each member of the royal army nodded and scurried to deal with their designated assignments. The sounds of forcible entries and reckless labor irked the young Mystique--Such methods she looked down upon. "May Satan's scorn beseech you! BE CAREFUL WITH THAT!" Tristin chided, with which Deiah quietly thanked for. Alas, while Tristin mandated each and everyone, Deiah, in silence, slipped away from all the chaos. Ascending the staircase, that she grew up with, memoirs of a differentiated past pranced before her. The livened halls of an empire she had grown to love and its mirthful hymns that had lulled her to a slumber of peace challenged her reveries. Her emotions perplexed and turn awry, which she immediately ceased and suppressed. But before more could be pondered upon, the familiar ebony doors of her childhood past greeted her with its own splendor. Aged with that of the entire building, she steeled herself for what lay behind it. Butterflies of her own making remained etched on its rough exterior and the familiar scribble from her early youth was taken note of. "Behind these doors lie my endeavors. Enter at your own risk." Deiah read each letter with a known grin. Without further ado, her palms pressed against old friends and gales of humor and contentment greeted their dear princess longingly. A long breath of calmness filled the demon's lungs before pacing inside her old room. Soiled tapestries, broken pieces of furniture and unkept possessions called for the theorist's painstaking attention. In the corner, she found decrepit books that had kept her company through all those nights that she idled to herself. Adjacent to it lay the ghastly decay of her old tampered dolls. She walked around, taking in what had once been hers. Perpetual, the vivid dreams of a heartfelt nightmare rushed inside her pensive frame. It was before her that years of simplicity placated the rage she had felt for the late Arizen Fenix. Down in the lower halls, the Prince and his men tended to their travails. "De- Deiah? Where…" Tristin turned around and saw that his younger sister had disappeared. "See to it that all is accounted for.." He would whisper to his confidant prior to ascending the very staircase that his sister had. Through the familiar halls, he walked the same steps that his father had once. To his right was an old chamber of the once young Tristin Noir and across it did he find the room that he was seeking. "I thought you'd be in here." Tristin spoke with certainty as he entered his sister's past accommodations. Leaning against the bedpost, he'd wait for Deiah to talk, but known was it to be a close to impossible occurrence. "Do you re--" before he could continue his speech, Deiah had supported hers. "What are your plans for this place?" Lackluster seers riddled his own; the expression on her face remained stagnant as always. "Deiah, I-" Tristin's forehead began to show creases of concern, but before he could say much, Deiah's palms had grasped her old lyricist. A smile crept onto Tristin's lips as he took a few steps closer and gently planted his hands onto his sister's shoulder. "Open it…I remember each night vividly." He chuckled as Deiah opened an ancient music box. "You had no intention to rest for the eve, but only the gentle and flawless serenade of a box expunged that very idea." Tristin finished. The two listened to the sweet and gentle sway of notes that arose from quite the simple model. Its serene proposal crept into the once child-like hearts of the late Arizen's kin. "He betrayed us…" Deiah muttered as she shut the box. The hostility that had clouded and condoned all wrath present inside her would soon surface. Tristin shook his head and turned his sister to face him. "It does not matter. He loved you, Syren, and I. That's what's important." His sincerest response, yet. The princess of serpents turned her glance away. She did not care for the deceased, more so, she had thought of him as an embarrassment. "The disgrace! A ruler to have fell from his risen authority. The irony of a name his forefathers had bestowed on him. I will never take him for what he was. The past shall not be awaken. For now, he is but dust and fallen ashes to me." The demoness's words were short and firm. She had not expressed all desired emotions, but for the first born son of Arizen Fenix, it was imperative that he knew where she stood. Tristin soon held a tight grip on her shoulders as he retorted. "You of all should know that I now carry our mother's name. Our father has done so willingly but to leave us a legacy. I will continue this, but as my own. Your bitterness, Deiah, will only deter you." He sighed, resolved, as Deiah shrugged his palms away. Gusts from existing rage circumvented as they swept through the windows in spite. Their wrath apparent through their mistress's account. "Deiah, stop it…this is unnecessary.." Tristin watched as his sister's anger did not deplete, but only escalate. The wielder of winds amplified her commands. Items of age would burst into pieces for the pressure exerted from the harshened strokes of air were increasingly detrimental. "Deiah! STOP IT NOW!" Tristin asserted once more. The aerokinetic did not listen. Orbs remained stoic with purpose whilst a birthmark that had branded her for years glowed in an ethereal hue. Her brother's words slipped past an ear and left the other for her focus was now on the music box in her hands. Mortality had ceased from such a fine ornament as destruction had befallen on its grace. Allowing a delicate current to whisk it away from the demon's grasp, the seemingly courteous stream of air would then rupture its delicate frame, like all, it would burst in an instant sending remnants of its now troubled exterior in an assortment of directions. Tristin ducked to avoid this overall enigma. She was far stronger than she had let on, and this he was concerned with and in knowledge of. "ENOUGH!" He called out from behind as he stood up to embrace his sister dearly. "..Deiah, enough….This is not the time…" He whispered to her while holding her close, like a precious doll with an exertion of care. "This is unnecessary, my darling sister. He should not be the cause of your grief. The phoenix will rise from its ashes, but it will be through my existence that it will flourish. It will take my mother's name and therefore mine. Our father had lived his life and had earned whatever had become of him. But I assure you that he loves all of his children and wishes that we remember him as a great father and not as a fallen emperor." His assurance calmed the sole cause of torment in that very chamber. Allowing the male to silence the cries of all inanimate objects present, Deiah resigned from her sadist endeavor. "I promise.." Tristin assured as he kissed the top of the young one's ivory crown. The Onyx Rose, unmoved, removed herself from her brother's embrace and exited with haste. She did not care for the late emperor of Kastino. He was a disappointment to all and that he was branded with. A defeated sigh escaped Tristin's lips. His sister's conviction towards his father will always be prevalent. "I tried…" he muttered before turning around to take a last look at a once mirthful princess's domain. The prince of dragons would silently shut all graces behind aging doors and in turn all memories abated…
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