Backgrounds~

[Corwin]

She hid in the closet, her sister ushering her in. She was too old for those games, she tried to tell her sister in confusion, her cheeks colored with embarrassment. But something in Falena's eyes took the wind out of her protests, making them token at best. Groomed from birth to some day administer the Court, the first princess's expression tended to be very genial and unassuming. Only with those closest to her did she ever show her true smile, but now Youko could add another emotion to the list she witnessed Falena with -- fear.

As she climbed inside, and watched her older sister close the double doors of the walk-in closet, Youko bore witness to another new emotion on Falena's face, anxiety. She sat huddled amongst the plush robes, draping an expensive shawl over her head and shoulders, uncharacteristically subdued... and waited. Maybe it was a practical joke. Maybe her sister just wanted to play hide and seek.

Another person came into the room; her brother, she quickly deduced from the sound of his voice. Why wasn't he announced, she puzzled, before recalling that her sister dismissed her servants just before she arrived, summoned by her. It was a shame Falena never explained what it was all about before she asked her to--

Something splattered against the closet doors, and Youko froze. The joke had gone too far, but she did not feel like laughing. She didn't even breathe, didn't greet her brother as he opened the doors to the darkened closet -- did her sister forget to fix the lights? They seemed broken -- and didn't move at all until his footsteps receded. Only then did Youko push the half-closed doors open, hesitantly stepping outside. Her sister... the body that was on the floor, its throat torn, its eyes wide open and glassy, it was not Falena. Youko ran.


~~~


The Feitas River was long the breadwinner for the Kingdom of Jaen, allowing for trade and commerce with the rest of the Scavanger Lands. Goods, revenue, even a moderate amount of tourism by those wealthy or curious enough to explore an aqueduct surviving from the First Age, all those have been granted Jaen's rulers by the Feitas for generations.

King Jaoh, bewitched by a traveling bard, believed his words that his family has been cursed. Armed with the knowledge that his eldest son would usurp his throne, he tried to kill Ranbu. However, his anger clouded his judgement, and though surprised, Ranbu emerged victorious from their bout. Disillusioned about family, and with his father's curses fresh on his mind, he resolved to never reach the same state. Jaoh had four more children, two daughters and three sons in all, and Ranbu attempted to remove his siblings.

Gauron, the second son, was away on official business at the time, so Falena, the next in line, became Ranbu's first target. She was no match for him, but her actions served to protect Youko, the youngest child. Hiding in her closet at the time, she was protected by her elder sister till the end, and managed to keep silent until Ranbu left. Escaping from the palace itself was not a difficult task, Falena's shadowy retainers helping with that in accordance with their mistress's final wishes. Once safely away, Youko joined Gauron, as he gathered forces to him to rise against the usurper. It was there that she heard of the death of her other sibling, her older brother Jin. She and Jin were especially close, being so near each other in age, and that more than anything gave her the resolve to pick up the fight rather than cower away in some hidden village under a presumed name.

The next few years were difficult, and filled with intense training. Her studies had been interrupted, resulting in an unfinished classical education, but Youko could not be bothered at the time to resume them, focusing on martial arts and leadership. Steadily, however, they were being routed. Ranbu had assumed control over the castle, and imposed ruinous taxes on both merchants and peasants, but that allowed him to hold the seat of power, and hire an army of mercenaries to fight off Gauron's patriots. And so, their numbers continued to dwindle, while mercenaries were being constantly replaced.

One battle saw Gauron lead his forces into an ambush, and receive a mortal wound as a result. He was whisked away by his guard, many of them volunteering the stay behind and literally protect the retreat with their own bodies, mounting a pile of corpses to block the road; many were those of their enemies. Ushered into his tent, seeing him there on his deathbad, ashen-faced, shocked Youko to the core. She had believed herself inured to death and loss, but a sob came unbidden when he coughed, his lips tinged with unmistakable red mist. Avenge me, Gauron's eyes begged her, when his voice failed him. With his dying breath, he kept trying to say those two words over and over, until she nodded. Gauron did not live long past that.

But how could she fulfil his wish? Their forces had surrendered most of their positions, and this recent ambush deprived the rebellion of most of its strength. Moral was at an all-time low, even without news of Gauron's death making the rounds. Youko knew that once that fact became public knowledge, the uprising would die along with Gauron. She could not allow that to happen.

Her last remaining sibling was occupying a strategic position, the castle built upon the ancient aqueduct. Guarded by natural moats on two sides, two minor rivers that gather into the Feitas, guard towers built at the city's four corners with an impregnable, fifty feet high wall going perpendicular to those rivers and protecting the city from the north. And to the south was the aqueduct, the manmade beginning of the Feitas River, set into the sharp cliff at a height of several hundred feet. Youko visited it once, as a child. She remembered being awed by the inactive turbines built into the cliffside, before her maid finally found her and drew her away from the dangerous area.

Jin was there with her, that day when she almost fell off the cliff after sneaking off into the forbidden section of the palace. He warned her not to go next to the turbine, but Youko insisted. She was the last, the youngest, and though that seemed like a contradiction, as the result she was indulged throughout her childhood and well into her teenage years. She held a fair share of her father's affection for being a reminder of his late wife, whom she resembled, and he often saw her as the child she was rather than a person holding a position in the court. And as she was never realistically expected to do much beyond appearing at public functions, her sense of duty was often lacking, and no one around her would scold her for it. Perhaps, if she were a boy like Jin, things would have been different. And yet, he never resented the differences in their treatment. And despite being a full two years older, he always spoke to her on her level, treating her as equal in all matters. In that, Jin was the only one, and she loved him for it.

But Jin was dead, now. He, too, had been struck down by Ranbu, for no reason but merely being there. Jin, the kind, soft-spoken prince who never held any political aspirations and only wanted to do his best for his country and its citizens was no more, killed by his brother in his mad quest for power. Yes, he had to be mad. That was how she would see him from then on, Youko decided firmly to herself. And soon, the day would come when she would taste revenge.

She could not be certain that personal feelings were not involved when she devised her plan, her last resort. Instead, Youko told herself that to win at this stage, she had to take the snake's head. To get to her brother, and put an end to things once and for all, she had to mount an assault at the capital. Even a full army would fall at a full frontal attack on the north, finding the city's massive gates unsympathetic to their plea. An assault from either west or east would be doomed to failure due to the high speed of the rivers, as they rapidly approach a waterfall, as well as the city's inner walls... not as large as the northern defenses, but still considerable, and built at the very edge of the rivers. Therefore, she had to assault from the south.

Falena's retainers, now her squad of faithful martial artists who practiced the softer, stealthier side of the art, were chosen by Youko to accompany her. The audacious plan involved using the inactive turbine system to climb up the cliff, and gain entrance into the palace, which was built adjacent to the aqueduct. It almost succeeded, but Ranbu and his guard were waiting for Youko as she got to the top. She got to finally confront Ranbu, as her retainers taking on the guard.

A thrust of his blade was barely blocked by Youko's warfan, the unholy screech of metal scraping against metal ensuing. Her arms trembled with the effort of keeping up her defense, and she pushed off the sword, leaping back to gain some breathing room. A quick glance to the sides revealed the full tactical situation -- they were outnumbered by a factor of three to one, and that was just Ranbu's personal guard, she realized with a start. He was not treating her best attack strategy seriously; that was the only explanation for the lack of those mercenaries her brother loved to employ so much. He was just that confident that he would not need them against her.

And he was right. A slash this time, horizontal, and almost taking her head off. Youko leaned back at the last possible moment, escaping with merely a slashed shirt. The sword might have drawn blood; she could not spare the time to check, and surging adrenaline was negating any pain she would have felt at the moment. Her fan trembled, and then again and again, his strikes steadily pushing her back. A scraping sound caught her attention, and she chanced a glance behind her, only to discover she had been maneuvered to the cliffside. The giant, inactive turbine was just a leap away, the only path of retreat available. She leapt.

The battle continued atop the construct. Its surface allowed her to hold her ground easier, and she grew bold. Youko saw a chance, and struck back, aiming at her brother's esophagus. He anticipated it, and she did not see his feints for what they were until a flash of steel struck against her momentarily overextended weapon. It flew through the air, disappearing in the long drop down the waterfall, taking with it all hope of survival.

A glint of gold caught her eye then, glittering in the flickering torch light. Her sister's fan, the only keepsake she had of her. The ancient paper fan that had been in her family's possession for generations, always possessed by the eldest female heir. It was hers, now, delivered to Youko by Serra, the leader of Falena's old guard when they whisked her away to safety. In a desperate motion that had none of the grace and fluidity her training had given her, Youko drew it, ripping the tear in her shirt further. She could not guard with it, she realized, but the hilt was orichalcum. Perhaps, just perhaps, she could redirect his sword for a bit longer, delay her death for a few more seconds, give her the time to gather her disorganized thoughts and come up with some plan to triumph.

The fan settled comfortably in her palm, closed like a wand, and she almost laughed at her choice of weapon. At that point, however, it was the best she had. Going up unarmed against her armed brother, who had spent the past two decades training as a swordsman, was even less desirable. He lunged, and a voice whispered in her ear to slide to the left. Her arm came of her own account, the closed paper fan brushing the attack to the side, his blade kissing her sleeve. She stumbled back, teetering on the uneven surface, and forced to one knee to keep her balance.

His sword pointed down at Youko, both of them situated over the massive, ancient turbine, Ranbu smiled. Without malice, without cruelty, without happiness or remorse.... That smile, so empty... suddenly, a memory came, of its own volition. Ranbu, laughing as he took off his helmet, Gauron handing off his lance to the page, both tired after their spar. She thought herself unnoticed, hidden cleverly in a particularly dense patch of bushes, but then Ranbu turned straight towards her and waved. He was smiling then, so carefree and innocent. The memory left, but its afteraffects remained. Was this truly her brother? Was he just the mad beast she had been telling herself? How did he get there? There was a time they were all so happy....

The strike came unexpected, and caught off guard, Youko spread her fan in a wide circle, twisting her wrist to catch the blade upon it and deflect it outwards. Far too late did she realize that it was her sister's decorative fan, her own warfan having fallen down the cliff. The urge to close her eyes was immense, but the laughing Ranbu came to the forefront of her mind as soon as she considered that, and she resolved to keep them open, to see this monster who had taken her brother's shape, so that she would never again confuse the two.

The fan glowed, as if in response to her renewed resolve. And then, the unthinkable happened. The blade that struck it broke. Too shocked to react consciously, her body moved on its own, the fan slapping the sword's fragment aside before it could richochet and nick her. Her grip turned horizontal, and she slashed with the open fan at Ranbu's throat. His broken sword moved to defend, and this time, he was the one pushed back! There was a sound as the weapons met, but it was not the scraping of metal she was expecting. A gong rang, as if announcing the imminent presence of royalty, about to emerge into the open.

A groan sounded from below, the ancient manse coming to life after its ages-long slumber. The turbine lurched, and Ranbu dropped his useless hilt to use both hands to steady himself, lest he fall. Only Youko remained standing, majestic, as she bathed in the brilliant glow of the rising sun.

Everyone was pausing in their engagements, Youko noticed with her peripheral vision. Serra, about to be run through with a jade glaive, got a reprieve as General Hourai, the Dragon Blooded outcaste, simply stood there instead of following through, mouthing 'Anathema'. Ranbu, her brother, her nemesis, looked up at her with empty eyes. What did he see, she wondered. His own death? His wrongdoings, reflected in her righteous visage? Suddenly, desperately, Youko wanted to ask him, but her hand was forced into action of its own accord once more, this time to block a glaive of beautiful green jade.

That was merely the opening attack. Hourai started with a flurry, and Youko finally realized the difference between facing a mortal and an Exalted. His strikes came with the assurance of hitting; she could feel the intent behind them. Her eyes could not even begin to track the general's movements, her mind unable to comprehend the being opposing her, yet her body moved in tune with his deadly dance, staying well out of the way of the Dragon Blood's strikes. He called out an attack name, something her detached mind found quite silly, but she could not hear it well under the thunder of the blood pumping through her veins. He was glowing, now, an enrapturing, breath-taking emerald. Youko caught a reflection of herself in her open fan, and motes of golden were rising up around her, intermingling like lively fireflies.

She opened her heart fully, then, embracing the feeling. Power, ultimate power channeled itself through her. Her perception expanded, and suddenly the alien, mechanical beauty of her movements gained a purpose. No longer content to stay on the defense, she counter-attacked, her fan flashing in golden crescents, slicing through the paper-thin seams of his armors. Blood flowed, staining the wakening turbine like a form of ancient sacrifice, and it responded in kind. Ponderous at first, it started moving, spinning, gaining speed at an alarming rate. Ranbu, still appearing much out of things, lost purchase, tumbling over the edge. Forgetting the battle, Hourai leapt towards his leige in a frantic attempt to save him, but a bright flash outpaced him. There, standing on the edge, was Youko, her ruined robe acting with a mind of its own.

Ranbu finally looked up, his eyes first focusing on the hem of Youko's rob wrapped around his right wrist, before moving past that and locking with hers. Her arm was lowered, though her eyes told a different story, that of her being just as shocked by her actions as he was by them, as her sash kept her affixed to the turbine's frame. The robe, already cut up in many places from the near-misses, made an ominous tearing sound. Determination took over as Youko's gaze steeled, and she reached down with her fan, next, coming close to him. And Ranbu, in response, closed his eyes. A peaceful expression came over his face, and his right hand relaxed from its death grip, going slack and slipping through the robe's grasp.

Hourai could have struck her down, then, as she watched Ranbu plummet down, paralyzed into inaction. Instead, when she regained her senses, and leapt back towards the cliffside platform, Youko found combat over, and the general kneeling at her feet, his glaive laid before him. Her victory felt strangely empty to her, but it was time to rebuild, to focus on her subjects, and for that the country needed a strong leader. As luck would have it, that was her. And she needed people she could trust, advisors she could rely on. The mercenaries dispersed after getting paid, as she could neither maintain the heavy taxation necessary for their upkeep nor desired for this considering their previous employer, and Youko was left with the country's armed forces. Her guard took to serving as her retainers, disguising their level of skill until the time came to use it, while Hourai became her general as he was Ranbu's, accepting the job of training the country's army, this time made of her countrymen.

She renamed the capital to Sol-Falena, in honor of the two who saved her life during her trying times. Falena became the country, and Youko its queen. Her addresses to her subjects were met with raving approval, and it did not take much of an effort to convert them into following the Unconquered Sun. Some even mistook the Sun's glory for her own, starting an Immaculate Cult of Youko. Amused, she allowed them their harmless worship, concentrating on other matters. Youko knew what she was, now, and realized that the Realm would be coming. If such was the case, then she would be ready for them. A buffer zone would be raised, made by uniting the mishmash of neighboring countries, and a strong economy developed as a result; enough to support a large, well-trained army. And then, when she was ready, it would be time for the Empire of Falena to sweep through the world under the banner of the Unconquered Sun!

[Ebiris]

"Please, we have no more grain to give - we need those stocks to get through Winter!" the village elder pleaded, a hunched over and weathered figure, older seeming even than his advanced years would indicate.

"This village won't survive to see Winter if you refuse me!" the literally bull-headed God boomed in reply, towering over the delegation from Sicarco like the inhuman monster he was. With a contemptous backhand, he sent the feeble old man sprawling to the ground. It was a weak blow, definitely far gentler than the grotesquely muscled spirit could have managed, yet still the elder landed badly, a sickening crack heard as blood began to seep from the back of his head. "I want my tribute!" Taurevi, the Great Bull of the Plains raged, uncaring of the injury he had inflicted as he turned to stomp off with his parting words, "Or this whole wretched village will suffer!"

Ramaya watched from a distance along with some other children as the other elders tended to his stricken great uncle, feeling the seething impotence that so many mortals must endure in a world filled with powerful spirits and anathema, all perfectly happy to take advantage of the hard work and toil of the common folk.

But there was nothing he could do. For he was just a boy.

Days turned to weeks as more and more inhabitants of Sicarco began to suffer the effects of deprivation, their meager supplies constantly being fed to the ever fatter and greedier Taurevi. Despair settled like a thick cloud over the village, until one fateful day...

A half dozen men arrived in the village, strangers that none had seen before. But their leader was instantly recognisable, if not for his demeanour that instinctively made the villagers feel respect, then the two green jade short daiklaives he carried would tell the story on their own. Ramaya was not privy to the strangers' conversation with the elders, but he followed them from a distance as they left the village, going to the meadow where Taurevi dwelt.

It was there that Ramaya learned to hope again, as this Exalted champion and his mortal entourage challenged the belligerent God, before seeking battle after Taurevi's boastful threats to destroy them all. The fight was short and brutal, the Dragon Blooded warrior far too fast for the God's powerful but clumsy blows, and his blades seeming little more than a blur as they cut into Taurevi again and again until he submitted to his clear superiors.

After the battle, the word on every villager's lips was "Immaculate," and it was then that Ramaya felt his calling. Despite being only twelve, he was one of the strongest boys in the village, yet knew his strength would never be enough to protect it alone. But if he could join with these Immaculate Monks, then perhaps one day he would be strong enough to make a difference...

His parents refused, of course, but Ramaya would not be swayed. And so, not long after the Dragon Blooded left Sicarco, Ramaya likewise left, simply walking from the village and not looking back. His destination was the far city of Greyfalls.

Hiking across the plains towards the river, Ramaya was able to gain passage on a fishing boat towards his destination, his small hands put to use in retrieving crab pots as payment for the trip.

In Greyfalls itself, Ramaya soon presented himself at the Immaculate Monestary, and though the monks sought to deter him as they do all applicants by testing them with boring and repetitive chores and exercises, Ramaya persevered throughout, always keeping in mind the image of the Dragon Blooded monk standing victorious over the defeated God.

The years passed, Ramaya growing up at the monestary and becoming highly regarded in the eyes of his superiors as a skilled martial artist and dependable monk, which led to him frequently being chosen to go on journeys as part of the Dragon Blooded Immaculate's entourages as they went to discipline unruly spirits and even more dangerous creatures.

It was one such mission that changed Ramaya's life once again. Word had reached Greyfalls of a pair of powerful God-Bloods that were preying on the town of Bengardi, and so Ramaya was chosen to depart along with several other monks and the Dragon Blooded Immaculate Miyashi to put an end to these depredations.

The battle was nothing spectacular, almost routine to begin with. Miyashi swiftly overpowered one of the God-Blooded brothers, putting him rapidly on the defensive while the mortal monks had their hands full with the other God-Blood, only barely surviving thanks to their martial arts skill as they gave their all simply to keep him busy long enough for their Exalted leader to finish his current foe and turn his attention to the last obstacle...

Yet they didn't count on the father of the two God-Bloods showing up.

No sooner had Miyashi struck a fatal wound on his enemy, than a regal figure seeming composed of dank water and moss materialised out of the air, stabbing the Immaculate Dragon Blood in the back with his trident in a single fatal strike.

"To think my children would be bested by one so easily slain," Susa-oushi, the God of Begardi's swamp spat in disgust, turning his attention to his remaining son. "Can you not even slay mortals, worthless progeny?"

The intervention was a timely one, eliciting despair in the remaining monks while their foe became emboldened with the Exalt now gone. Swinging his gigantic tetsubo in a murderous arc, he finally battered his way past Jobe's defences, crushing the unarmoured monk's chest in a single gory instant. Others soon followed, the Immaculate's coordination now lacking without the inspiration of their Terrestial leader.

Ramaya, the most skilled of them, fought a desperate battle of defence, his seven section staff being battered and worn with every blow as he struggled to parry the terrible blows aimed at him. It was perhaps a small mercy that Susa-oushi only saw fit to observe as the battle began to draw to a seemingly forgone conclusion...

"What's wrong, little man?" the God-Blood jeered as he continued his merciless assault, "Not so cocky without your stinking lizard to lead you, huh?"

Ramaya could spare no reply, sweat dripping from his brow as he spun his weapon in ever closer parries, unable to risk attacking at all, yet only delaying the inevitable, until... *crack*. With a splintering crunch, his weapon was shattered, leaving him defenceless. The final blow approached, and time seemed to slow down such that he could almost count the rivets on the iron shod club as it arced unerringly towards him...

"Ramaya."

The voice was not his own, nor one he had ever heard before. Yet it spoke in his heart and he listened, wondering if it was one of the Dragons, come to take him for his life was surely over.

"Listen well, Ramaya, for you have been chosen. My children are at last returning to Creation, and you shall join them. Know that many will need guidance, and you are going to provide it. Now and forevermore, you are Exalted to shine the light of the Unconquered Sun across Creation."

Time seemed to resume, but more slowly than before. Not having the chance to dwell on this blasphemous message, Ramaya contorted his body, twisting it with serpentine grace as he dodged the seemingly fatal blow. The gasps of shock only registered dimly in his mind, the important thing simply that he had been given a moment of breathing room. Ignoring the fact that he was now definitely glowing, Ramaya dove across the battlefield, launching a flying kick at Susa-oushi that was easily parried, yet little more than a distraction from his true intent as he scooped up the weapon of his fallen sensei, a brilliant red jade Serpent Sting Staff that was named Embodiment of Scarlet Devil.

"Anathema!" "Blasphemous!" "Zenith!"

So the shocked exclamations finally came, but Ramaya paid them no mind. Spinning his new weapon around like it was weightless, he regarded his foes with a steely gaze. "Your crimes will be punished," he declared firmly, before striking out like a biting cobra at Susa-oushi, beginning a frenetic duel between the young Solar and the crafty spirit. Susa-oushi's son tried to intervene as well, but was fended off easily by Ramaya in conjunction with the efforts of the remaining two monks to distract him.

And as the battle wore on, it became telling that the God and his child would lose. Susa-oushi was already wounded when a seemingly idle snap of Embodiment of Scarlet Devil behind Ramaya caved in the back of the God-Blood's skull as he was corralled by the other monks, finally prompting Susa-oushi to dematerialise and retreat.

That was his last mistake.

Eyes glowing like molten gold even as his anima continued to flare, Ramaya still perceived the spirit, and with essence adding to his blows, was able to strike even more horrifying blows against Susa-oushi, who was too shocked to even dodge the attack which forcibly discorporated him.

With battle over, Ramaya and his friends at last had a chance to take stock of their situation. It was undeniable, that he was anathema, the most feared enemy of the Realm. And yet he was still the same person he always was, of that he was certain. The other two monks, Jobe and Dancing Sparrow were both quite dubious and fearful, but with effort and sincerity, Ramaya was able to convince them he was no threat.

But the fact remained that to return to Greyfalls would be a certain death sentence. Therefore Ramaya made the decision not to return, his friends also vowing to stay by his side - ostensibly, in Jobe's words, "To kill you if you prove the stories about Anathema to be true."

And so Ramaya took to wandering the Scavenger Lands, doing what he could to help those villages he passed through, just as the Immaculate Monks once helped his own village. With Embodiment of Scarlet Devil, it wasn't even hard to pose as a Dragon Blood whenever they strayed too close to the Realm's sphere of influence.

With his earnest cheer and unfailing desire to help others, it didn't take long for Ramaya to attract more followers, a small group from all walks of life flocking to follow the Chosen of the Unconquered Sun as he travelled, teaching them his own style of martial arts and philosophy with the help of Jobe and Dancing Swallow, forging them into a small but effective group that soon became known of as a force of justice in the fractious Hundred Kingdoms.

It was during these travels that Ramaya heard of the new Queen of Sol Falena, and, remembering the words upon his Exaltation, resolved to travel there and assist his sister in justly ruling her kingdom.

[Brian]

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