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Altirane

It was the moment of triumph, for every creature in the room bar for myself. I had trained this thing, this thing that I see before me, but in that moment I had realized what havoc it would reap from the chaos of the world. Savior we had called it, but monster it was. For I see now that the world of our understanding was far smaller then the other sisters had liked. We must end this thing now, but to do so might bring more destruction then it solves. The sisters would be against me. They could see not a thing bar the perfection before us. But we have given it the skills, not taught it how to live. So when it did, may the Goddess bring forgiveness. As if in answer to my call the sky grew darker and the rain started to come. A bad omen. The rain drenched him. Altirane. It drenched the sisters as well. And it stopped.

It stood before us all, still in it’s pose, like a mortal would be at being told of a terrible secret. The short black hair still moved freely, despite the rain and the dark skin, almost black in coloring, rough in texture, gave no evidence of movement. The muscles that stood out sharply were still, as were the eyes, those eyes, the yellow infection eyes with veins of red that seemed to scream of the danger we had wrought. The claws that need hold no weapons, that held the sword of our finest blacksmiths. But the most starling features were that which set him apart even from his kin. The horns, twisted, deadly things that they were, of black bone that towered on his head, and the feet on which he could not stand flat but walked with perfection on his clawed toes, adding several inches to the massive creature. Far taller then I, who was half a meter taller than any of the other younger sisters, the fear spread as with a sudden movement the black velvet rough webs extended from his back.

And as the webs sprung open he jerked his head towards me. He knew now what I did, that he was better then why we had taught him. The teeth, those fang like teeth, only slightly sharper then the sharpest teeth of a mortal, but still enough to pose a threat. A danger for we had not seen then, for he would never speak. Nor did he now, but he roared with anger and swung around. It was aware. It knew what we had done. And it’s justice was swift. Bloodied ground that held corpses of the dead, and a bloodied sword that was turned towards me. But did not strike. But fell. He swooped upwards, roaring with an anger that burned hole in the skies, but he did not swoop. The black clouds engulfed my son and as the sisters rushed out I knew. This was just the beginning. He would not stop. He could not. He would kill. And destroy. For we have taught him. And I would have to stop him.

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Another piece of writing that I wrote for an English project.
Based along an alternate history for a character I designed for a final fantasy roleplay site, the only male Gria.
Written in quite litterally ten minutes so concidering it was my last ditch effort I am quite proud of how this turned out.

Tags

dark, dragon, rain, gothic, goddess, noir, awareness, suffering, arya, gria, aryaaetha, aetha

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