It was a warm night, as it typically was this season by the river bank. A warm wind blew over the village, a fog beginning to rise from the surface of the cool surface of the river. A full moon and dull stars shone brightly above the small village of Ministria, lighting the ruins of several of the buildings ans the magnificance of the central villa.
The king's pawn lived within the villa, a massive courtyard spread out behind the mud building. Houses had been destroyed to make that blood house, the ruins of those sacrificed assembled in pathetic piles across the street from the villa. Families displaced by the action were accepted with open arms into the homes of smaller families with rooms to spare. The king had made an attempt to crush their will, but it seems to have done just the opposite.
That night was exceptionally warm, and the moon and stars seemed to shine bright than the nights before. The fog grew thicker and blanketed the village, giving an eerie feeling to those who were still awake. Fathers watching over their homes and their families would often stay awake to ensure no harm would come to their beloved brood. Lit by lamp light, they sat by crumbling walls to keep watch.
The sound of cracking pierced the night, and a mother awoke quickly at this sound. This was the night she had been waiting for. She rose, tail curled around the palely marked egg. It was an egg that never should have existed. She had been believed to be barren, unable to produce a child, yet here the hatching egg stood testament to her miraculous story. Tears slid down her beautiful face as the red eyes of her infant son first peeked through the shell.
The father soon appeared, lighting a simple lamp to further shed light upon their child. Eyes like rubies shone in the fire light. Pearly teeth, gleaming in that same light were visible protruding from his jaws, which were mishappen and flawed. A hint of concern flashed in blue and green eyes of mother and father. Had they borne a crippled son? Had they further been cursed by the gods?
However, further examination proved to unveil more confusion and concern in both parents alike. He bore markings unlike either parent. Beautiful hues of red, brown, and orange, in patterns resembling crocodile scales and the ornate pottery the artisans crafted. But, a gasp escaped mother's lips at the sight of what lay at infant's back.
Crimson wings, dark as blood were attached in two pairs upon the broad shoulders and back of their infant son. What was this creature that had hatched from that egg? Rubies stared up at the beautiful mother and stocky father who looked in utter confusion upon the winged creature. Upon unsteady legs the creature strode towards mother, beside which he curled up searching for warmth. Red eyes disappeared beneath brown lids as the creature nestled its head against its beautiful mother's side.
~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~
News traveled fast across the village that following morning. Daivik is what the creature had been deemed by their religious leader, due to his bearing Ivaan's wings, Akish's jaws, and Behati's markings. He was one of divine characteristics. However, a traitor stood among the group surrounding the blessed son. With a whisk of his tail, he was off to tell the king of this new arrival and the tales he bore. A child had been borne of gods and its intent was to tear down the king's awful regime.
Mother lay beside her blessed son, who moved lacking grace upon unnaturally unsteady legs. Perhaps it was due to the two sets of wings he bore heavily upon his back, no one knew exactly. Daivik stretched his jaws as he moved to lay beside his mother, curling into her flank. A smile graced her beautiful face. "You are destined for great things, my son. One day I hope you fulfill them. You will set our people free." She whispered softly to her son, whose ruby red eyes looked up in mild confusion. He understood little of speech yet, and was thus unlikely to know what she said. She was right, however. One day, he would set his people free.
~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~
The traitor had found his master, living with Agnu in a palace of unheard proportions. "Sir, a child has been born in the village of Ministria. A child blessed by the gods. The villagers believe he has been sent to end your reign and perhaps your life." Traitor said a little out of breath, dropping to deeply bow his head to the king of Anakisha: Libra. "Blessed by gods, you say? Explain." He hissed, the traitor lifting his head at this. "Wings, two pairs, of deepest crimson like those or ruiner Ivaan. Jaws like those of creator Akish. Blessed markings of preserver Behati. He has been sent to set his people free." Traitor said softly, ears slicked back in worry, treacherous eyes glittering concern. "Do not kill him, but bring him here. He will not set his people free." The King hissed with a sly grin. "Leave! Now!" The shout came a moment later when traitor made no move. Scurrying up and out of the palace, traitor headed off to gather the blessed son. Libra would not lose his title, not after everything he had already lost. He would ensure that this blessed creature would not rise against him, no matter the cost.
~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~
A day of celebration followed the child's hatching, which lasted well into the night. The beautiful creature was laying nestled in the hut that it's parents had built with their own paws. His beautiful mother was out dancing with his strong father, as they believed their blessed son was safe. How wrong could they be.
The smell of smoke awoke the child, its red eyes glittering in the light of the fire. Screams echoed outside the house. "My son! Daivik!" Beautiful mother cried, rushing into the burning hut. Traitor stood behind the child, the source of this fire. Snatching the blessed creature, who squealed in terror and tried in vain to reach its beautiful mother, who was frozen in her spot. With a whisk of his tail and a final loud squeal from the son, traitor and creature were gone.
Fire ravaged the run-down village of Ministria, leaving not even the villa of the town leader intact. The blessed creature was at the palace of the cruel dictator before even the final pillar of the villa had fallen victim to the fire. Still with fight left in him, the poor creature clawed at his captor growling as best he could. Traitor entered the throne room, where the dictator stood waiting. "You were not lying, were you?" Libra said in half suprise, heading down to see this odd creature. "He is perfect. He shall do anything but set these poor people free." He sneered, lifting one of the wings of the child. Libra saw an instrument of war, with which he could play like a poor pawn in his never-ending chess match.
