The Brilliant And Amazing Gamer's blog: April 2016

Intermission:

The four warriors of light: Murai’s story.

Ten years prior to the events of zero's return to earth.

Neramic Calendar, Odma Timezone.

Year 1299,

“Murai! Wake up you blockhead!!” tiny hands belonging to the frail form of a young twelve year old girl slammed down repeatedly on murai's forehead, even as his eyes slowly opened.

“quit....hittin me sis....lemme nap.”

“No! Mama and papa want you to help pick Garadals For the harvest festival!!” she cried angrily.

“why do I have to do it?” he moaned, rising from the hay of the stables to see the prized tamrin horse, a two headed species native to the enchanted realms of neram, toss both of her heads and snort in disappointment at the stable boy's ineptitude.

“what you you looking at?” he groaned, rising up and moving to pet her right head, for the left head was always aggressive, as evidenced by how it nipped at him, not because it was angry, but because, unlike the other head, it made no moves to hide its disappointment.

Murai accepted the sting of the horse's flat teeth, and the other head gingerly licked his hand as he strode out of the stable, the soft loamy soil of the stable floors kicking up tiny clouds of dust as he made his way into the azure light of day.

Clouds towered behind a film of haze this day, their forms so abrupt and breathtaking that he'd initially been taken aback by their presence.

“Get to it!” she shouted, stamping her foot as he shrugged, shaking his brown tunic and letting the wind pass through it, the gentle chill enough to wake him up.

Practically pushing her older brother into the fields, the blonde haired pigtailed minion of the two farmers, husband and wife came to stand proudly before her parents.

“He was sleeping in the stables again!” she proudly proclaimed, and murai's mother smiled warmly as she rubbed her daughter's head before coming up to murai and handing him a hoe.

“Help me out would you?” she asked sweetly.

“of course mom.” he sighed, shrugging the final vestiges of sleep from his mind as he took to work in the fields, the clouds of neram passing over the green landscape that was beginning to drain of life with the advent of fall.

Yes...fall was indeed coming.

The effect was quite telling. Wherein most places in neram, especially in the southern half of the continent, didn't quite gain any transitions of color, the northern lands of neram practically blossomed in the radiant colors of the slumbering trees.

Reds, golds, violet, brown, every color that could potentially herald fall's presence exploded forth before the leaves fell to the ground like snow to blanket the ground in anticipation of winter.

Day turned to evening, the light of the seventh sun painting the clouds and crystal floats above a sherbert orange hue.

Crystal floats, strange formations of levitating windcrystals, were formed when a cloud mixed with a spirit stream, crystallizing in a fashion not dissimilar to water freezing. The result was a landmass mixed with anti-gravity and wind magic. These great floating bodies of stone eventually disintegrated into a gentle shower of jewels that turned to water as soon as they struck the ground. But unlike ice, they were not cold, and their consistency was almost entirely akin to a true crystal.

Many were the floats that gently collided with one another to reveal a shower of gems that flew to the ground in vibrant displays, their forms quite frail alone, and thus incapable of causing any real harm.

Many floats collided with clouds as well, resulting in the float breaking apart from striking a cloud, so frail were their magic based forms that they could hardly tolerate mixing with water without becoming unstable. Indeed, one had done so, and already the small spire of crystal sending small splashes of gold sunlight painted cloud out mixed with countless glittering float gems to paint the air in specks of radiant stardust.

Yggrassa, a realm so thick with magic that it practically swirled around the planet proper in great glowing streams. The “stream of souls” where all newborn souls were formed, or so the legends went.

Crystals formed of the magic of these great magic belts that encircled the entire planet, each one tied to a great arch crystal that floated high in the twilit abyss far above, said to be the font of these soul streams.

Murai retired to his room later that evening, his mother entering the room to hand him his dinner.

“Son.” she began. “are you sure you won't consider the king's offer?”
Murai shrugged, his brown tunic scratching against his skin as he looked out to the final rays of the setting sun.

“I don't want to be a knight mother.” he replied. “it's just not for me.”
“The king doesn't make such offers lightly...and this cleric..knetsis? He seems like a kindly sort! He'll surely be able to instruct you in the magic arts to supplant your skills with a swor-”

“Mother.” murai interrupted and she smiled as she bit back her elaboration.

“your grandfather was a great warrior.” she explained.

“I just want to be a farmer...this..this peaceful life....” he gestured to the skies and the green, fall tinged landscape.

She walked over to him, kneeling down beside him and placing her hands around his shoulders.

“I know son. But...give it some thought. You shouldn't be shackled to this humble life. You should find prestige, and honor. You should become a great person...do us all proud.”
“why?” murai asked in irritation.

“Because I only want what's best for you.” she explained, and murai's father stepped in.

“she's right of course, but regardless of your decision son, it's your call.” he grinned when she turned and scowled at him.

He knew she meant well, but he couldn't discount that being a warrior didn't quite sit well with murai. Sure, he practiced with the sword before retiring to the stables for a brief nap, but that wasn't the reason he trained.

He wanted to learn how to defend his family, not his nation of neram.

He was a warrior who wanted a worthy cause to fight and die for, and to murai, the only cause worthy of fighting for was his family. And he didn't need to become a knight for something like that, a fact that he, Grantsis shishigami, husband to tsukikaze shishigami, who herself belonged to a warrior's bloodline, knew all too well.

Neramese people were unlike the brandthirion, there was a strict sort of order to a family and filial expectations were intrinsically tied to their class.

Murai belonged to the samurai class, as did his mother, and though grantsis was a former knight of the branthirian empire, which had fallen long ago, forcing an exile into neram.

Murai went to bed later that evening while grantsis and his wife discussed the future, for they were concerned that murai's abject refusal to embrace his position in the hierarchy would reduce their station.

“should he be a warrior?” grantsis asked as tsukikaze continued cleaning her father's sword, applying various oils to it as she gently scented the blade.

“He has the instinct...but not the desire.” she admitted, her black hair spilling about her shoulders as she adjusted her sagging silver robes.

“a warrior born must be made.” grantsis remarked. “doubtful murai will find a cause worthy of him and our expectations.”

“he seeks to enjoy the simpler things.” she lamented, staring up at the red armor, the armor of her father which had been set in the back room.

It was a shrine to her family, a family that held a long and distinguished bloodline that could trace its origins very far back, far enough to identify her lineage as “noble” though the family itself had grown quite small.

She was worried that murai's refusal to take on his role as an apprentice samurai to the kingdom was going to be the final straw that broke the shishigami bloodline's status forevermore.

And it saddened her deeply.

Still, if that was what the fates had in store, so be it.

She kissed her husband, gently stroking his fiery crimson hair, a trait that murai shared with him.

“I wonder what will happen to our family's place in society?” she wondered aloud.

“we keep going until one of us sires a samurai headed, samurai bodied lion with enough determination to put us back on the map!” grantsis said with a laugh.

“dragons don't need to show their power all the time. Let us be farmers for a bit...if the shishigami lineage is as you make it, we'll be back.” she smiled and kissed him.

Beneath the light of the third moon of yggrassa, a shadowy portal slowly opened in a field of roses, their colors varying from white, to lavender, to gold and silver.

Moonlight spilled over the rose field, their colors and hues extending for the horizon as a lone figure clad in darkness stood in the midst of the great field, his eyes clouded over.

Another portal opened, and a woman in gold who wore a mask with three holes in it stepped forth, her golden robes spilling over the rose petal littered grass as she stood before the one she'd been instructed to meet.

“My lord.” she said with a graceful bow.

The young man in the black trench coat did not respond, and indeed, seemed to be struggling.

Slowly she lifted her gaze to see that his eyes were clouded over, and he groaned out each breath, as though his mind itself was weighted and each action taxed him.

In the silver light of the third moon, the other two clear on the other end of the horizon, his glasses caught the lunar reflection as he slowly turned his gaze up to witness the vast celestial body, a moon so massive that it all but swallowed the skies.

“My lord?” she asked, rising.

A piercing golden glow suddenly issued forth from his eyes, as though a light had simply turned on behind his irises, and the orbs gave off their hellish gold glow, a glow so fierce, so vile that she felt physically ill just from looking into them, and the figure turned to regard her, his eyes now keenly aware of his surroundings.

“Lord zero?” she asked once more, and with a sigh, he lifted his hand, and a blast of energy sailed forth, striking her knees and forcing her to kneel in pain.

“You will bow with more respect next time.” he warned. “How are preparations?”

she gasped through the pain and continued kneeling as she spoke to him in level tones. “the...preparations are proceeding well. We expect that inversia shall be uncovered in the next three years.”

“good. What of the other designs. Did vande send you all you needed?” he asked.

She nodded, not quite sure what to make of this new dark lord, one who was to be lord vande's replacement and instrumental in bringing about the goddess of night, who would destroy the dreams of yggrassa.

“all is well my lord.” she explained.

“then you will lead me to the fort of peltura.”
“Peltura?” she asked, recalling the name of the orc fortress.

“I have an agreement with the king there. We need to make ready while neram is still weak.” he explained. “it will take the energy of a thousand souls, and be it orc or man, I shall have them fueling the opening of the inversian gate.”

she grinned from behind her mask. Inversia, the sacred land and wellspring of chaos, it was there she would find power alongside this upstart dark lord.

His eyes narrowing he stepped forth and backhanded her, sending her sprawling into the roses.

“Next time I hear you think the words “Upstart” in my presence in reference to me girl, I shall strip your soul from the bones I flay! Do you hear me?!” he growled angrily and she rose, stepping back in surprise. “y-you can read minds?!” she cried in shock.

“Yes. I can do a great number of things. Now make re-” he paused for a moment, and she noted a hungry look emanating from his glowing eyes.

She shrank back, no longer certain of anything about this newcomer as his shadow seemed to grow larger, covering her huddling form entirely.

“let me show you what nightmares truly come to those who crave them.” he whispered, extending his hand with the vastness of the third moon transforming his already darkened form into a silhouette against the endless colorful field of roses, their vibrancy muted by the unrelenting pressure of night.

Looking into those golden orbs, she swallowed hard as she tried to puzzle it all out. Perhaps he was a son or-

she reached out, brushing aside whatever thoughts she had at the moment, for surely they would damn her, and he lifted her to her feet.

“it's time to unseal the celestial gate in this world and cleanse this realm of its impurities.” he said.

And she was so enraptured by fear that she could not even speak.

Who or what was this being the lord vande had sent here?

1 year later

Murai stood before the gates to the sprawling capitol city, his mind spinning as he gripped his grandfather's sword.

His mother and father had been quite clear. They wanted him to join the neramic military as a samurai, in truth it didn't bother him that much. But murai had always been a child of peace, preferring the simpler lifestyle to anything else.

As he walked through the gates, a pair of samurai in traditional crimson armor said to be modeled after a legendary eight armed wandering warrior demon who saved an entire universe, slowly opened the ornate dragon emblazoned gates.

It was midday, so merchant's road, a dusty alley thick with kiosks and stands that sold piping hot food, jewels, and even women from the pleasure quarter, was busy.

Thick were the crowds of people of varying lifestyles, the lowest of which were the merchants, who held no practical use and were typically sneered upon as the lowest rung of the hierarchic ladder, the top being samurai themselves.

Many saw his attire, that of a noble, specifically of the shishigami clan, for his light blue jacket had been emblazoned with the letters across his family seal, and bowed or showed him deference, despite the fact that his family had all but withered away, his grandfather being the last truly great warrior among his clan.

Weaving through the crowds and trying to ignore the scent of various foods, a fishheaded humanoid stopped him and shoved a steak skewer into his hands.

He glared at the fishheaded humanoid as the merchant, for what else could this foul spirit be? Bowed repeatedly saying “Please honorable young samurai, take this food! It's free!”

Koyjin, they were called, a pun on the word “koi” where the more respectable fish often enjoyed their daily lives. “Koyjin” were spirits that had formed due to the starvation of the fish in a koi pond, though the occurrence was rare, the result was a merchant that appeared half-fish in nature, and though the spirits themselves were benign and often conducted business, they were frowned upon, for their very scent painted the air with due malevolence.

Koyjin were birthed from negligence and death, and this was a fact that none of these otherwise kind-hearted spirits could escape, a fact that clung to them in the form of the scent of their fishy nature. They swam like fish, and when nobody was around they would disrobe and swim in lakes, ponds and the like, and usually their appearance was akin to that of a fishheaded merman, their lower limbs lined with fins and blue scales.

In water, koyjin were quite lovely to behold.

It was unfortunate then that their penchant for walking around in the open air and doing business with humans and other beings such as earth and wind spirits lead to their reeking odor.

“thanks.” murai sighed. “my apologies for covering my nose-” he began but the koyjin merely smiled, the sunlight reflecting off his scales as he humbly bowed. “You honor me more by covering your nose sire. I do not wish to see such a dignified young master beset by the odor of my former owner's evil.” with that he strode through the streets, chomping a steak skewer while a pair of dwarves casually passed by, their beards all but raking the dirt in their passing.

Dwarves and the earth were intrinsically connected, the more dirt that clung to their immense beards, the greater their magic reserves and the healthier the dwarf. And these fine fellows were wearing suits of neramic armor stylized in the way of their northern mountain homes long before the red dragon sildatha came to settle there, chasing them away from their beloved snowbound homeland.

“well met.” murai said with a bow, for unlike koyjin, who were born of death, dwarves were earth spirits born of diligence, a trait the neramese respected.

“well met yerself then sir samurai! Ah but aren't ye hagojinn's grandboy?” one asked. “Hagojinn shishigami! Now there's a name tae take me back! He still use the zantetsuken?” he asked and murai introduced himself before explaining that hagojinn had long since passed from this world.

“Blimey! Burns me heart like coal tae hear it!”

“what is...zantetsuken?” murai asked.

“it's yer granda's ultimate technique! Best used on horseback, its original master was a fabled black swordsman whose name was best known tae yer father's folk! Yer grandda actually defeated him....with the same technique.” he paused for dramatic effect, leading murai to bend closer to hear it, his eyes open wide as he listened to the dwarf recount his grandfather's feats.

“On the ground. No horse, perfectly still. Saw it meself!”
“and you are...?” murai asked.

“Name's maltan! Maltan the blacksmith o' the harnereye smithy down tha way! I accompanied yer family as their personal blacksmith afore they decided to simmer down their numbers..apparently it was due to filial politics causing lesser feuds. Yer family used tae be a lot bigger...but....that was afore yer grandda cut em all down in the name of tha king. They were branded traitors...but he restored the shishigami honor he did!” maltan explained with a grin.

“and look at ye! Finally making ready tae restore yer lineage! Oh but if old hagojinn could see ye now! Listen laddie, ye let me know if ye need some armor fixed up, got me?”
Murai nodded and the two departed with a respectful bow as he made his way through the streets to the castle, where the dojo was located.

It was there he would apply for apprenticeship and begin his service to the neramic kingdom.

As was his duty as a loyal citizen of a samurai family.

As he strode into the dojo however, a peculiar sight greeted him.

It was a man in a long black trenchcoat, the headmaster, a veritable bear of a man whose hair was tied back in a topknot, seemed to be yelling at him in some foreign language.

The figure adjusted his spectacles before calmly backhanding the headmaster so hard that the man flew into a wall, and the figure's hand remained there, as though frozen in motion.

Slowly he turned, and murai saw his boots, long knee high boots plated with stylized armor fitted with countless symbols and images...in truth his boots appeared to be more a great bias relief carving of some ancient legend than actual boots...and his form bled shadows.

“A spirit?!” murai cried, his hand going for his weapon.

It was the headmaster, rising from the rubble, his eyes widening, who stopped murai.

“No young man! Do not draw against him!” he cried.

The man slowly turned to face murai, the golden glow coming from his eyes seeming to steal the vigor and rage right out of him, leaving only an empty pit in his gut.

“and what...have we here?” zero asked, walking up to murai to loom over him, for the man's size was a foot taller than murai, and his glare seemed to peer into the depths of murai's very soul.

“I beg of you! Why are you doing this?” the headmaster cried.

“Because....examples must be made. You defied me mugen......the sentence is either death, or the deaths of your students.”
“spare the newblood! He is not a student!”
“Oh...I care not a whit.” zero laughed, grabbing murai by the throat and lifting him off his feet with ease.

“Let me peer into your soul lad.” he said, and murai felt something...something ominous..invading his mind, a violation not of the flesh, but of the very self.

He could feel it then, like a great dragon's gaze looking deep into his thoughts and memories.

With a sigh, zero dropped murai before he could finish, turning on the headmaster, who'd come up behind him, blade in hand, fully intending to slay him.

“I was about to destroy this city anyway.” he admitted before turning to murai. “I'll let you live. But only so you can witness your failure to protect anything..including that sister and those parents of yours.”
with a snap of his fingers, the room filled with orcs that leaped from shadowy portals, equipped and battle ready.

“slay them all...every student, every human, every spirit.....leave none standing...save for this red haired fellow, harm him and I kill the offenders.”
he touched murai's forehead, and murai's mind fell into darkness.

But he did hear something before his mind faded out entirely.

That awful, awful laughter.

The laugh of a man who'd slain billions in his lifetime.

Hours later murai awoke to find himself before his house, the house itself ablaze.

He felt a cold pit form in his stomach when he heard the screams of his family from within.

Struggling to stand a boot smashed into his back, and kept him pinned to the dirt of the farm plot his parents had been tending to not three days ago, his ragged breaths sending the soft loamy dirt flying as he began screaming and struggling, trying to get up, despite the pressure on his back.

He looked up to see the man in black, the fire burning his house and family reflecting in his glasses as he grinned cruelly, watching them burn, laughing as they screamed all the louder.

Murai struggled all the harder, screaming horribly, roaring, but he could not move from beneath the weight of zero's boot.

Finally, when their screams had subsided and the fires died down, rain began to fall, and countless orcs rushed in to investigate the charred remains before nodding in confirmation to zero.

“well...that takes care of that.” he said with a sigh, stepping off murai and walking away.

A guttural roar of feral fury tore through him as he rose up and began striking out at zero, and the orcs all began forming a ring around the two combatants, zero laughing and glancing to his army as murai swung his fists futilely about, zero always one or two steps ahead of him.

“what's wrong? Did their screams not delight you?” he asked. “don't bother going to the city, everyone died not two hours ago. I made certain to summon demons to support the orcs!”
“who are you?! Why did you do this?!” he cried, punching zero and actually landing the blow.

Zero sighed through the fist on his cheek, adjusting his glasses before punching murai so hard as to send him sprawling several feet through the mud, even as the rain poured.

“My name is zero, but you may call me “lord zero.” I serve vande, lord of nightmares as his second in command. Me and my subjects are...well...we're going to be unleashing hell upon this world before cleansing it entirely...with the help of the goddess of night herself. izanami! The goddess of death and night!!” he laughed and the orcs joined in. “too long have you people in the realm of dreams been content to embrace your hopes and dreams for a brighter future and better tomorrow. Now, i'll be livening things up a bit with a war the likes of which your people have never seen! By the time i'm done with your world little warrior....nothing will survive.”
he drew his sword, stabbing murai in the chest, and murai's eyes widened in shock as the pain lanced through him.

“goodbye little human. Know that you shall not be missed.” he turned, flicking the blood off the weapon before sheathing it and leaving.

Murai felt his lifeblood pouring out to mix with the rainwater that cascaded over his body.

Finally, the world slowly went dark, the lines of orc troops passing him by, but curiously avoiding his body.

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