The Final Fight: War Of The Gods (Pt. 3 Reborn)

STORY NOTE:

This story was originally written for a school paper for a gaming interactive storytelling class (which also had a word limit hence the fast pace of the story).  

            I decided to do the Hero's Journey, but with a twist. Instead of the 'hero', I decided to have the villain go on the journey to see if I could go on the 'heroes journey' but with evil intent. It's no secret Zemir is the 'bad guy' in this story while the god of justice, Nah'Zhul, is the hero we would normally play in a game. Turns out, the formula works just as well for villains as it does for heroes. 

            As a side note, this was my first time writing a fantasy story. For the dialogue I tried to imitate speech patterns from shows such as Spartacus and Game of Thrones. I pray it not too confusing.

            That being said, I hope you enjoy the final part of The Final Fight. In cased you missed it, don’t forget to check part 1 Into Darkness and part 2 Age of Gods for a refresher on the beginning and middle of the story. 

PS: This isn’t my usual writing style and I’ve improved vastly as a writer since I wrote this in 2016. This is merely a fun thing to share.

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PART TWO: 

                        Age of Gods

Zemir had everything where he wanted. With his wife by his side, he was ready to kill the High Gods while they slept. Yet before he could strike the lethal blow, the ground on which he stood shook and dust fell from the ceiling. He stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. After the room settled, Zemir conjured a sphere of black flames and cast it towards his enemies.

            A white, shielding, light appeared and absorbed the flames. Standing in front of the High Gods was Nah'Zhul.

            "Na—Nah'Zhul!" Zemir exclaimed in disbelief. "You had perished! How is this possible?"

            Nah'Zhul pointed his sword toward Zemir. "Kidaha gave me her life and in turn all of her power. Her sacrifice will allow me to put an end to this and bring justice upon you."

            "Impossible," Mehélia gasped. "Kidaha was the heart of the planet. Without her, Spira would be destroyed and we'd all have lost our divinity."

            "Correct you are, Lady Mehélia," said Nah'Zhul. He placed a hand over his chest with sorrow. "But her sacrifice would not be in vain. She would never allow her people to die as Zemir has. No, my lady, I am now the heart of the planet."

            "Let me end this now," said Zemir. "I care not for you Lord Nah'Zhul. I will kill you and steal your heart in the process. I will be reborn a High God with the heart of the plant and reign over all!"

            "You fool. You cannot win now," boasted Nah'Zhul. 

            Calling forth the magic of old, Nah'Zhul struck down Zemir from where he stood with a radiant beam of magical light. Zemir's flesh burned and withered and he fell to the ground with immense pain. As his body refused to move out of agony, Zemir watched as Nah'Zhul used his combined powers of himself of the fallen Kidaha to awaken the three High Gods.

            With Shinoda, Ouganda, and Shiesta awakened, their wondrous fury could be felt by mortals and gods alike. Unleashing their might of creation, Shinoda reversed the damage Zemir had caused. He brought back all those who had died and returned the land to normal, returning time to before they were poisoned. Shinoda spoke words of a long forgotten language and erased the memories of pain and death among his people.

            When all had been restored, Zemir stood alone with those he despised. The punishment was his alone to bare, yet he knew he deserved none of it. He had created his perfect world and it was all shattered in an instant.

            "Zemir," Shinoda bellowed. "You will return to the underworld as temporary ruler of the realm. But when Mehélia has the child, you will be stripped of your godly powers and forever reside as one of them. You will no longer be the god of the underworld, but a soul cursed to wander those he despised for eternity. Your child, when of age, will take your place as ruler of the underworld. 

            "For your wife, she is to remain the goddess of air under the careful watch of Nah'Zhul. She is to suffer in silent and solitude. 

            As I am the morning and evening star, as I say is so. Farewell, Zemir."

                                                                        *****

            A shaking hand, covered with the blood of torture and silt, weakly raised to the air, begging to be grasped by a savior. Its owner gasped for air among the deadly toxins surrounding him. All around the vast wasteland lay thousands of bodies of various races, all screaming to be released from their torment.

            Zemir stood watch over his realm, the heavy shackles keeping him low to the ground next to the souls unfortunate enough to be damned to the underworld. He was back to where he had always been, a captive of his own realm. And before long — when his heir would be born — he would lay forgotten among those he was alleged to watch over.

The Final Fight: War Of The Gods (Pt. 2 Age Of Gods)

Remember last week when I released Part 1 of The Final Fight: War Of The Gods? Great! Because I’m here to satisfy your curiosity with part two, Age of Gods.

Go forth and enjoy reading!~

PS: I am aware of the story and writing flaws. This was original written years ago. 

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PART TWO: 

                        Age of Gods

Though the ground glistened like rain had fallen, the liquid that shone wasn't clear, but red. The suffering souls of children screamed in pain, clutching their grievous wounds as orbs of fire rained from the sky into the never ending battle. The sun beat down on them furiously as the heat wave continued, unaffected at such chaos. The people of Spira screamed until they could no more, until they rested into nothingness. The source of their chaos hovered proudly in the skies as he watched his fellow gods send terror onto the ground below. 

            Zemir flew over the capital city of Bal'Thor, watching as Yava, the goddess of the sun, conjured up an intense heat that ignited Florydia, the goddess of beauty, on fire. The flames grew too unstable for Florydia to contain and she sent them flying in every direction, burning the citizens below. 

            Anuik, god of fire and destruction, attempted to overthrow Keowa, the god of fertility, by erupting all the volcanoes on Spira but in turn burned Keowa to ashes. Zemir smiled to himself at the sight, knowing it was one less god to overthrow.

            His plan for dominating all the gods was in full effect as he watched the battle ensue. Once Zemir had poisoned the High Gods, word soon spread that the position for the new High God was up for the taking and soon every immortal being fought for their rightful spot.  

            With one breath of black fire, Zemir torched the citizens of Bal'Thor. A smile crept upon his face as he watched the people below burn. He flew down and landed next to a dying young boy whose hand reached out for a savior. Zemir flicked his powerful tail and ended the child's life.

            "Does no one dare oppose me?" challenged Zemir. 

            "I shall," came a voice.

            "Rarity?" Zemir laughed. "Of all the gods, you are the last one I'd expect to see fighting. Tell me this, Lady Rarity, do you wish to rule, such as I, or is it too unharmonious for you to bear?"

            "I've no interest in fighting, Lord Zemir… You know that as well as I," Rarity said meekly. She fidgeted with the fabric of her dress. "But… I cannot let you continue disrupting the balance of harmony. It will… it will only end in vain." 

            "Ha! You wish to converse me to death? Is that so? I'm afraid I've no interest in such matters. My wife is with child, you see. I must think of my child's future and I do not want him to be born in the blasted underworld."

            "F-forgive me, my Lord," Rarity stammered. "I do what I must… to keep the harmony of this planet in balance."

            With a few choice words of magic, Rarity unleashed a spell that trapped Zemir's legs in place. 

            "What trickery is this?" yelled Zemir. 

            He struggled with all his might to budge from his spot but he remained fixed. 

            "I beg of you to tell me, my Lord. How… What did you do to the High Gods?"

            Zemir was not going to let the puny goddess of harmony stop him on his quest. How dare she attempt to stop him on this glorious day, where all would suffer under his hands. How dare she believe she could come close to his power and wonder. Yet for all his struggling, he could not move. But her magic could be broken and he knew what he had to do.

            His upper lip curling, and muscles twitching, Zemir bellowed out the sound of thunder, raising his fists to the air. Rarity cowered to the ground, her hands covering her ears.

            Out of desperation, Zemir took hold of his legs, and with all his strength, ripped them from his body. At last, he was free. Rarity was already on the defense, muttering another spell while Zemir's legs were mending themselves.

            The dark god charged at Rarity with top speed, impaling her with his horns. She clutched onto them with bloodied hands and attempted to pull herself free. Zemir shook his head free of Rarity and she fell motionless on the ground.

            "I will send a pestilence and plague upon the gods and mortals," Zemir proclaimed loudly to The Heavens. "I will send the thunder from the sky and the fire raining down upon the land below, with hail of burning ice on every field, village, and continent. May it be known I will reign terror such as the world has never seen. 

            Never mind how high the cost may grow. This will still be so. I will never let the High Gods rise from their slumber and in turn, I shall gain power and become the new High God of Spira. All those who would oppose me will suffer my wrath."

            Zemir's steady heart suddenly beat louder and a writhing pain was felt in his chest. He clutched his breast and gasped for air. His vision blurred. Soon, he fell to the ground, wondering what had happened.
            When he awoke, he found himself chained in a dark and unknown location. His eyes darted around the room for a clue as to his whereabouts. 

            A being clothed in armor of pure light energy came into view.

            "Zemir, this madness has to end," the being said. "Poisoning the High Gods and trying to take their place as your own? You dare commit such an act when it was they who made all of creation? They who had created you!"

            "Come forth and face me, Nah'Zhul, you coward!" said Zemir.

            Nah'Zhul placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. "With you away from the heat of battle, the other gods will surely cease this war. We are sworn to protect the mortals but our fighting has only caused them suffering."

            "What do I care if a few mortals die in the process of victory. I want a world where I can do as I please and not abide by the rules of Shinoda. He has gone astray in his ways. The mortals I will rule over will be worthy of my praise. I do not care for the weak, Lord Nah'Zhul. I've only place for the strong in my world."

            "Is that why you've lead all the gods on this rampage with you?" Nah'Zhul questioned. He sighed. "Then you are a fool. There will be nothing for you to rule if you continue down this path."

            A deep cackle emerged from Zemir's throat. "Don't you see? I've already won."

            "You are bound in shackles, your legs torn from your body. I see not how—"

            Nah'Zhul's hands rushed to his throat as he gasped for air. "I— ah… gack—"

            From Nah'Zhul's mouth came a wisp of wind. He choked as the air escaped his lungs. When there was no more air left to take, Nah'Zhul fell to the ground, lifeless.

            "My love," Zemir said as he watched his wife finished her work.

            Picking up Nah'Zhul's sword, she swung at Zemir's chains and released him from his prison.

            "Go my love. The battle is almost over. With so few deities remaining, you may now have the power to become the new High God of Spira."

            She was right. He could feel the power of the fallen gods flow through his veins. For it was once written that if a god should die, their power would be divided among the remaining deities. It was the one good rule Shinoda had written.

The Final Fight: War Of The Gods (Pt. 1 Into Darkness)

You may be aware I made a little world-building blog about the history, culture, and language of the Hikaran people not too long ago. Or maybe you aren’t. Either way, it was a super short version of everything I created on that culture and I posted that first for it kinda has a purpose linking to today's blog post.

I once wrote a fantasy short story taking place in the Hikaran capital city of Bal’Thor on the planet Spira revolving the gods that looked over the land. It was my first time writing a fantasy, and though it could be improved, I am still pleased with how most of it turned out.

So, today, I’m going to share with you this story. It is done in three parts and today's post will be of part one. Be on the lookout for parts two and three!

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The Final Fight: War Of The Gods
by
A.M. Molloy

PART ONE: 

                        Into Darkness

A shaking hand, covered with the blood of torture and silt, weakly raised to the air, begging to be grasped by a savior. Its owner gasped for air among the deadly toxins surrounding him. He was soon buried by another victim of suffering. All around the vast wasteland lay thousands of bodies of various races, all screaming to be released from their torment.

            Among the figures walked a large beast. His body was mostly the shape of a Hikaran, but on his head he bore two large horns and pointed ears. His legs tapered into equestrian-like appendages, his tail long with a tuff of black fur at the end, and on his back were large, leathery, wings as black as the night sky. He was bald, save for the black puff of hair growing on his chin and his skin and eyes matched the blackness of his wings.

            The beast scowled in disgust at his surroundings.

            "Pathetic creatures," he spat, crushing an old Deskravesk man with his hoof.

            He waved his hand and shot black flames at the dammed, setting thousands on fire.

            "Zemir!" called an angelic voice.

            Zemir glowered, the muscles in his arms twitching. He clenched his hands into fists and spun around to face the voice.

            "What say you, Kidaha?" Zemir's voice boomed. "You've no business in my realm. Speak and be gone."

            For everything Zemir was, Kidaha was the exact opposite. She was as radiant as the sun and adorned in bright white clothing.

            "I seek no ill towards you, Lord of the Underworld. I've come on behalf of Shinoda to sum—"

            A dark flame erupted around Zemir's being and his wings flared. "You dare speak his name in my presence?"

            "I beg of you to hear me out," Kidaha pleaded.

            Zemir waved a black hand, his tail swishing in annoyance.

            "The High Lord Shinoda has requested your audience immediately. He fears you are abusing your position as ruler of this realm."

            "The High Lord Shinoda," Zemir scoffed. "That old fool hasn't lifted a finger to help any of us gods in centuries. He has no right to sit as part of the three High Gods. None of them have that honour. Shiesta and Ouganda are just as guilty. It comes as a surprise they would think I am abusing my power when I've done nothing but my duty since the day I came into existence." Zemir crossed his arms, his chest puffed out. "I'll see your High God. I've business I wish to discuss."

            "I pray you come at once then, Lord Zemir."

            "In time, Lady Kidaha. I must see to my wife before I depart to The Heavens. She is with child."

            Kidaha's eyes widened. "The goddess of air was fertile?"

            "Never underestimate the miracles a god can do," Zemir reminded with a sly grin upon his face. With one fell swoop of his massive wings, Zemir took flight and left the bright Kidaha behind.

            Before long, the god of the underworld found himself in his chambers, where his wife was tending to her duties. He stood watching her graceful movements as she conjured up the correct breathing air needed for the day on the planet Spira. Her pale blue skin gave off a white aura as she waved her arms around in wide circles. A smile peeked through Zemir's lips as he glanced at his wife's midriff, where a small bump was beginning to form.

            "Mehélia, my love. Might I have a word?"

            Without a glance, the goddess of air spoke. "Speak, my love."

            "I've been called to The Heavens. Shinoda seeks words with me."

            Mehélia turned her head, revealing a face with hollowed-out eyes and no image of a mouth. "What need has he of you, my love?"

            "To pass on his wisdom, no doubt." Zemir took a step towards his wife. "Yet I've a different motive for going. If it pleases you, I will share when I return."

            Mehélia turned her gaze back towards The Heavens. "And why may that be?"

            A mischievous grin crept up upon Zemir's face. "For when I return, I will change The Heavens."  

                                                                        *****
            Shinoda was a large god, made of metal, symbolizing the fabric of creation. He had been around since the dawn of time with the other High Gods; Ouganda, a falcon-headed humanoid god, and Shiesta, a black dragon-like god. Each of the three High Gods ruled over the gods and goddesses of Spira.

            When Zemir finally made his presence known to the High Gods, his entire core shook with blind rage. It was no secret that he and the other gods did not see eye to eye.

            "Zemir," called Shinoda, the leader of the High Gods. "It has come to our attention that your care for the departed souls has gone astray."

            Zemir hissed. "My Lord Shinoda—"

            "Silence." Ouganda waved a slender hand. "Your High God speaks."

            "In light of the situation, we set forth that you shall live among the mortals so that you may see their pain and suffering in life. You must gain compassion, Zemir. The underworld is a place for the damned, yes, but their souls are not to be maimed."

            "This is an outrage!" yelled Zemir. "Those who reside in my realm are whores and criminals, those who Sinaz deems unfit for the joyous afterlife in The Heavens. You can't expect me to treat them with dignity."

            "I can and you will." Shinoda's eyes blazed with fire. "They may be dammed from eternal salvation and rebirth, but that does not mean they are to suffer any further from the hands of the one meant to teach them compassion."

            "My Lord Shinoda," Zemir spat. "Compassion is something I know not for those who were condemned to spend eternity in the underworld. How I rule my realm is not for you to decide. This role I play was your gift that you so charitably bestowed upon me if you so recall."

            "Do not question my judgment, Zemir!" Shinoda exclaimed, standing to full height, with strong, unblinking eye contact. "You will live amongst the mortals. Take leave now and do as I command."

            Zemir's lips twitched with fury, his nails digging into his clenched fist. "As you wish," he said, with his eyes shooting daggers at the other gods.

                                                                        *****

            "Fear not, my love, for I will not go," Zemir informed Mehélia. His gentle touch brought shivers up her spine. "I've other arrangements instead."

            "My husband, you cannot disobey the High Gods. It's never been done. You must do as they say."

            "Do not worry about the High Gods for they will not be so high and mighty much longer."

            Mehélia took hold of her husband's hands, concern in her voice. "What talk is this? You would go against Lord Shinoda's wishes?"

            "I would." Zemir caressed his lover’s hands. "Hear me as I speak. I grow tired of this life," he began, fire burning in his blood. "I wish to overthrow the High Gods. For too long have we gods suffered under their negligence. Lord Shinoda himself puts too much effort and time into protecting the lost goddess of magic, Aowyne. Lord Shiesta has not lifted a claw in years to answer prayers and instead spends his time perfecting the art of tea making, as if it is a task important to a god! Heaven only knows what Ouganda does.

            Do you not tire of their antics as well, my wife? Do you not want a chance to leave this barren underworld and rule among The Heavens, nay, ruleThe Heavens?"

            Mehélia tilted her head to the side.

            "Rule The Heavens," she said, tasting the words. "Yes. I agree. I would much like to return to where I was born. I too grow tired of working in the underworld. Was this plan the different motive of which you spoke of earlier?"

            "Yes, it is," Zemir affirmed. "I gave Lord Shinoda a chance to ask of me what he needed, but his wish was not what I had hoped for. I know now that I must overthrow them."

            Mehélia walked over to a nearby shelf filled with dusty old tomes and bottles. Picking up a bottle filled with pink liquid, she inhaled deeply, trembling the room in the process. With a precise exhale, she blew air into the bottle. The liquid inside began to bubble as she blew and a hint of blue flashed when the air mixed with the liquid. When she ceased blowing, the liquid slowly returned to its normal pink state. 

            "Then may this help you on your journey," she said, handing him the bottle.

            A smile appeared on Zemir's pursed lips. "Indeed it shall. Many thanks, my love."

            He spread his wings and took to the air, leaving his wife and unborn child behind.

            Under the cloak of darkness, Zemir administered the poison his wife had given him. No poison she could create could kill a god. Only the power of a true and powerful being could hope to conquer and kill the High Gods. The poison she gave him would put his enemies in a deep slumber until he was powerful enough to kill them himself. 

            Once the poison was administered, Zemir could only retreat into the shadows and wait for the toxin to spread and lay claim to its victims. His eyes darted around at every movement, his shoulders hunched, his breathing quickened. 

            There was no turning back now.

World Building - Spira

Not too long ago I made a blog post about a poem I once wrote. Well, for today’s post, I want to share the world where that poem belongs. Below is a brief history, background into the culture, and brief language introduction to the Hikarans of Spira, a world I created long ago for a roleplay.

Hikarans © to A.M. Molloy.

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The people of Spira, a planet located in a distant galaxy, are proud races, yet none are more proud than the Hikarans who inhabit 87.6% of the planet. Most Hikarans reside in the capital city of Bal'Thor, located of the coast of the Hüinzha Sea in the Ezhrainen continent. They are said to have been the first race created when the gods made the planet inhabitable.

        Hikaran's have a humanoid appearance at first glance, however, there are ways to tell them apart from humans. Because Hikarans are a tribal race, their best features are their legs. They are usually longer and more muscular than humans to provide an excellent jumping range. Because of this feature, most Hikarans are hunters, the majority of them being female. All Hikarans are born with pure white hair and the colour of their hair does not change as they  age. On the off occasion, the pigment may be off in their hair, and sometimes eyes, and can vary to a very light blond.

        The key factor in noticing a Hikaran from a human, however, is once glance at their eyes. Hikaran eyes are pure white, with no visual pupil. The healthier one is, the whiter their eyes are. If one is sick, or injured, you can tell by the color of their eyes, which turn blue, also with no visible pupil. The darker the blue their eyes become, the closer they are to death. When their eyes are completely black, it means they have passed on and are sent to Sinaz, the God of Death. When a Hikaran becomes blind, their eyes turn grey, sometimes with a slight shade of green. If blind and not well, their eyes become grey-blue, with the gray being prominent. If they have passed on, their eyes are completely dark grey, with a light blue mix.

        For the Hikarans, another key difference that separates them from humans is their aging process. A Hikaran will stop aging after puberty, usually around the ages of sixteen to eighteen, and remain looking youthful for the rest of their lives. This may cause confusing in other races when meeting a Hikaran family, for those of all ages, grandparent, parent, and child, all appear to be the same age. Hikarans are almost immortal in this sense, for they can live to be thousands of years old. They can die from sickness or be killed in battle, however.

        As a tribal race, Hikarans have painted blue markings on their bodies, while royals can use gold if they chose. Each symbol on their arms mean something different, but only a Royal can wear the markings for Life and Death. As shown below, these are a few examples of said symbols. The first symbol shown represents life while the second represents death. Other symbols include community, peace, family, and so on.

(Hand Ref: http://www.dragoart.com/tuts/11554/1/1/how-to-draw-muscles.htm)

The markings on their bodies are painted using special paint, Ha’kar, that stays on permanently like a tattoo until removed by a special kind of remover paint. Only by using the removal paint, He’kar, can the markings be removed from the body.

        Hikaran culture is rich in history and unique rules. A few cultural notes are worth looking into.    

        There aren’t many thieves in the capital city of Bal’Thor. The people who are thieves are very good at what they do, however, so that they don’t get caught. Thieves keep low on Spira. First offence is branding, second is loss of your writing hand and third is hanging.  Whether it’s the Royal’s crown or a loaf of bread, it makes no difference.

        At sixteen, female Hikarans would build their own doll to remind themselves that they are no longer a child. Also, in marriages it is the oldest sibling who gives the approval of whether or not the female gets to marry the male, or vice versa. If there are no siblings, the task falls unto the mother of the child to be married.

        Hikarans always throw a big town party right before a war, (hosted by the royals), to get the town pumped and ready for war. The Hikaran battle cry is ‘For Life, For Country, For Honour!’

        The current royal, and ruler of the Hikarans, is Svetla Sa’Den. It is also worth noting that royal members must learn and master as many instruments as possible, as it is they who entertain their guest at parties.

        Right before doing what is commonly known as ‘The Tradition’ (or sex in our culture), one usually says “I give myself to you. I surrender”. (Girls say ‘I give myself to you’. Boys will say ‘I surrender’) If these words are not said, it’s usually considered prostitution.

        When near the presence of a graveyard, a Hikaran will always walk with their heads bowed down and breath out slowly. They will never intake air near the dead out of respect for those who cannot breath no more. This is possible due to a Hikaran's lung capacity being larger than a human's.

        The most noticeable cultural aspect is how a Hikaran will greet one another. Hikarans great each other by placing both hands, in a fist, to their chest, and thrusting them forward.  This symbolizes that they as a person and the gods up above recognize them as a whole. This gesture also signifies the standard greeting, "I myself, see you, as the Gods above."

        Hikarans are a very religious race and they worship many gods and goddesses. The goddess Kidaha is the literal heart of the planet Spira and she is one of the few gods who reside on the planet as opposed to the heavens with the other immortals. To many of the planets residents, Kidaha's decision to live amongst the mortals was a foolish one and some even fear for their lives. If Kidaha were to ever be killed, the planet would die alongside her, and with it, the people. Yet the goddesses love for her people and the planet was too strong to live her immortal days among the heavens. She enjoys life as a peaceful woman and is said to live in the capital city of Bal'Thor.

        Other gods tend to visit the mortal realm from time to time, the most common being Shinoda, who enjoys aiding the lost goddess Aowyne in her attempts of a normal everyday life. A tragic event in the heavens left Aowyne wounded on the planet Spira with no memories of her former godlike self. If she were to ever recall, her powers would return tenfold and in turn destroy the planet. Therefore, Shinoda exercises his power so that Aowyne may life out her life in peace as a mortal and keeps her from finding out who she really is.

        Below are the most prayed to gods and goddess of Spira, worshiped not only by the Hikarans, but by the rest of the planet as well.

Kidaha (Goddess of Spira and the heart of the planet)

Shiesta (3rd), Ouganda (2nd), Shinoda (1st) (The 3 top Gods. Rulers of the Hikaran Gods and Goddess’)

Aowyne (Lost goddess of magic)

Sinaz (God of death)

Zamir (God of the Underworld, husband to Mehélia)

Mehélia (Goddess of air, wife of Zemir)

Yava (Sun goddess)

Umon (Scribe and Scholar to the Gods)

Florydia (Goddess of Beauty and very vain)

Uffa (Cat-like god. God of strength and war)

Iyana (Goddess of health)

Keowa (God of fertility)

Rarity (Goddess of harmony. She is the only Goddess to appear completely Hikaran in form and is extremely shy)

        As part of their religious beliefs, a Hikaran promise is more than just a word. To a Hikaran, a promise is what keeps the natural balance of the world in order. They never make a promise they cannot keep. To them, promises are a legal bind between them and whomever they made the promise with. It was once said that an unnamed god came down from the heavens and gave the lesson of the promise. This lesson was about keeping honour between yourself and your comrade and in turn aiding you keep honour with the gods. Therefore, as long as one can remember, no Hikaran would ever make a promise they can't keep.

        As set forth by the royals, if one did happen to break a promise, depending on the severity, they will be banned from, (in order), their house, town, country, and eventually, the planet. Hikarans firmly believe that the reason people die is because somewhere in their life, they forgot about a promise they made and broke it and therefore the gods punish them by death. As a result, being called a ‘promise breaker’ is the worst possible insult you can give to a Hikaran. Therefore, instead of saying 'I promise' they would say 'I swear', which holds just as much value as a promise, without the threat of banishment and death.

        As part of the Hikaran tradition, the Starlight Celebration is the most celebrated holiday in their culture. It is believed that during the 27th moon of Ishtar (November 18th in the human calendar) was the date that the gods created Spira. Many festivities are done and no one is to work on this day. A more modern tradition, however, is the telling of the tale of Isolde and Seryestin. For on that day they stopped a war between their planet and the planet Bashira. Every Hikaran knows the story of the two war heroes and some even worship them just as they would a god.

        The story tells of how the Hikaran born werewolf, Isolde, and his werewolf Deskravesk lover, Sereystin, died heroes of Spira. They saved millions by defeating the corrupt General Mudurk at Prison Guard. Prison Guard is a ruthless place on the planet Bashira where every captured person is tortured beyond recognition. The tale tells the story form beginning to end and is sung every year during the Starlight Celebration festival in honour of these war heroes. Though the two lovers died, it is rumored that Isolde and Sereystin are actually still alive, hiding from the people of Bashira, and along with their twin children, Sorren and Rhyx, live happily somewhere on Spira.

The Tale of Isolde and Sereystin

The moonlight bathes the road to redemption

Sweet howls of the night; the melody sings

Crazed yet sane, blood shall be shed

War rages on in the world

Kill the horror that lies in the soul

Unable to break free from sins committed

Cry out, cry out; silence fills the land

Poisoned veins will stand alone

Behold thy beauty of sweet summers night

Hail to the captive; sweet innocence arises

Wanting without knowing; unable to achieve

Darkness falls over the land once again

Be swift for death shall chase; killer of the night

Arise the sun to darkness still

Wanting without knowing; separated against will

Death to many, death to all, once again

Races of the world reunite; self inflicted damage

Captured once more; break free from hell

Twice dawn comes, blood still floods the land

Clash of blades; six hits, one death

Adorned blackness; victory arises

Fighter of love, fighter of peace

Striking blow through heart and soul

Death has been defeated

Rest well sweet child. Fear no more

Peaceful night now fills thy heart

Young love will last forever; sweet dreams

Eyes of sorrow have lifted

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The Hikaran Language:

Though Hikarans populate 87.6% of the planet Spira, the Hikaran language is the fifth most common language on the planet, the first being Deskravesk. The written word is considered a gift from the Gods. Therefore, when writing traditionally, it is written from top to bottom, left to right. Signifying the Gods sending their gift from above to be received by mortals below; and from doing wrong, (left), as in doing bad choices, to be righted, (right).

        There are twenty seven letters in the Hikaran alphabet, however, there are a total of thirty-two characters in the written language.The Hikaran alphabet and symbols.

The Hikaran alphabet and symbols.

The Hikaran Number system:

0 = nok         6 = ni

1 = sīg           7 = rah

2 = kō           8 = nō

3 = nā           9 = dõs

4 = sar           10 = re

5 = me          100 = sīgnokkō

A simple sentence in Hikaran follows the following sentence structure: subject - object - verb, unlike English where it is subject - verb - object. The verb always goes at the end of the sentence. It is believed that because verbs are actions - and actions done by a person are gifts from the gods - that the verb goes at the end so the gods above know that the people below understand their spoken gift.

        The Hikaran language is also filled with particles that tell the listener what the subject is about. The most common particle is the subject marker he (pronounced heugh with a hard h and emphasis on the ugh). Others include the possessive marker, ko, (similar to the 's in English), the sentence enders ne, kra, and shi. Each of the sentence enders add a different feeling to the sentence and have no real grammatical value.

        An example sentence in Hikaran would be the following common phrase, uttered often due to the inherent evil that resides within the un-pure body.

Ex: Anel he baka ei.  

Translated, this sentence means 'Evil is here', or a literal translation, 'Evil he here is'. The red symbol in the Hikaran text represents the sentence marker, he. The green characters is the highlighted verb, ei (part of the verb to be conjugation). The very last symbol, the small one at the bottom right, represents the Hikaran version of a period.

In Hikaran, the vowels are pronounced as follows:

a as the 'a' in 'father'

e as the 'e' in 'get'

i as the 'i' in 'pin'

o as the 'o' in 'lot'

u as the 'u' in 'put'

The consonants are pronounced the same as in English for the most part. However, a few of them change sound depending on where they are placed in a word. For instance, 'h' has a hard guttural sound when it is placed at the start of a word where 'e' is the next letter. An example is in the subject marker he.

        To understand the other sentence particles, we will continue to use the common phrase, 'Evil is here'.

        When showing possession of something, the marker ko is used. In this example, 'Anel he ko baka ei', translates to 'Evil is mine'. The subject particle he is never left out, and the possessive particle ko follows the subject particle. Because of the use of ko, the verb of ei becomes 'mine' when translated.

        The particle ne, when added to the end of the sentence, gives off a feeling of agreement, most commonly translated as 'right' or 'yeah' in English. 'Anel he baka ei ne' translates in English as 'Evil is here, right?'. It may also give off a feeling of uncertainty.

        The particle kra, when added to the end of the sentence, gives off a feeling of wanting. It's commonly used at the end of a question sentence and implies that you want more information from the listener. 'Anel he baka ei kra?' will translate to 'I want evil to be here?'

        The particle shi, when added to the end of the sentence, is almost as if expressing a verbal exclamation point. It also gives of the air of excitement. 'Anel he baka ei shi' will translate to 'Evil is here!'.

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As the Hikaran's would say, "Anel he baka ei. Kashaha, mazqa yc yba ocklz hkwer." (Evil is here. So remember to bring peace to the world).