First Blood

As long as I can remember I've been called an eerie child. As the story goes, when I was born I never cried, I only stared down the women assisting my mother giving birth. It was said she was so frightened of my eyes she dropped me...nearly killing me. When I was older my mother sometimes would say in a drunken stupor how she wished I hadn't got off that floor. My father would even sometimes say such things to my face. No matter how one looked at it my childhood was messed up. Born into an ordinary blacksmith family, in an ordinary nameless village, I had the most unorthodox of childhoods. Don't worry though, it only got better from there.

When I was around the age of five, like most children I highly anticipated the coming of my 'blessing'. My father could create and manipulate water, and my mother could freeze water, so my parents were expecting me to have a rather ordinary, water-based ability. Oh, how wrong they were.

The first sign that I had some sort of ability was about a few months after my fifth birthday. I went out to play with the other village children, and halfway through a mock battle with sticks, everyone who met my gaze shrank back in fright.

"Your eyes, they're red!", "Run away! Monster!", such were the things they said before they scattered in all directions, as though their underdeveloped legs couldn't carry them away fast enough. I was hurt to say the least, and because my family was so poor we couldn't afford a mirror, I ran as fast as I could to the nearby river to look at my reflection. I saw a young boy with ink black hair, but unlike me he had crimson red eyes that seemed to burn with the intensity of hell's flames. He looked shocked, then sad and hurt, and finally disappointed. Was scary looking eyes even a 'blessing'!? I thought and thought, but I couldn't understand what my blessing was, maybe if I waited for a wandering cleric to visit our village, he could tell what sort of 'blessing' I had. Divination was certainly not a very rare 'blessing'.

Clerics and people who had the power of divination, such as oracles and the like, could tell the name and capabilities of someone else's 'blessing'. That was why 'blessings' were given the name they were, supposedly a gift from the gods, 'blessings' were recurrent and could be categorized and studied. As more and more people attained 'blessings', it became clear that they could generally be lumped into the categories of: Water, Fire, Air, Earth, Ice, Lightning, and Healing. Any other ability that were strange, or had similar attributes to that of monsters, were deemed 'curses'.

A few days after I developed red eyes, my voice changed. From that of a normal child, to a voice that was painfully beautiful. It was so melodious that it was almost Siren-like; no it wasn't like a Siren's voice, it was a Siren's voice. I came to realize that I could almost make anyone do anything I asked them to. For example I would say, "I'm thirsty", then someone would drop whatever they were doing and run to get me water, even if I didn't really need it immediately.

It quickly became evident my voice had changed for good, I simply couldn't 'turn-off' my voice. Seeing the 'immediate danger' my voice presented, My parents fashioned me a muzzle (Yay! Great parenting right there!), and forced it on me in such a way that I couldn't remove it no matter how hard I tried. They then took me and rushed to find a cleric in the nearby villages.

When we found one, weeks later, the result could only be described as a disaster of the greatest magnitude. The cleric, an old woman who seemed to have a kindly look about her, screamed the moment she divined my 'blessing', or should I say 'blessings'. She shouted, "It's cursed. Monster! Monster! Kill that thing!"

She went into hysteria, and it took a very long time for her to calm down. She then tried to explain to my parents why they should 'kill that thing'. (Pssh, I'm still pissed when I think about this! 'That thing' has feelings to!)

From that I learned the names and abilities of my 'curses'

…..

The Siren God's Howl

History: An ability used by the greatest of the siren's, a monster with such a beautiful voice that hundreds of thousands willingly killed themselves after hearing the order to do so. The monster was eventually killed by an army of heroes who destroyed their own ear drums.

Ability: It gives orders directly to the subconscious mind, and the reflexive nervous system. No one without an immunity can fully resist the words said. Of course the vocalist is unaffected.

Aura of Absolute Desolation

History: None

Ability: Primarily affecting creatures and beasts that rely on instincts, those near the 'blessed' will feel instinctual fear and terror. More conscious creatures, such as humans, will only feel a sense of terror only when staring into the eyes of the 'blessed',

Absolute Demonic Contracting

History: Used by the most nefarious of the Demon Emperors, it was used to enslave and destroy the human peoples of the Northern continents and was said to be the most terrifying form of contraction ever conceived. There is no known counter for this ability

Ability: If a written or verbal agreement is made between the 'blessed' and another party, and both parties assent to the agreement, the contract is absolute. The 'blessed' can freely break away from the agreement without any repercussions, however if the contracted party does so, it will result in the quick and summary death of every member of the particular party.

…..

My 'blessings' turned out to be no 'blessings' at all. They were curses instead. However, because the clerics divination powers were weak, there was no way this was the full extent of the abilities. Not all 'Blessings' could be measured equally, some people had much stronger abilities than others. This was what probably scared the old hag the most. But let alone having one, I had three! Most people would be very lucky to have just two 'blessings', but to have three, one would have to be in a very small portion of the population in order to be amongst those kind of people. I didn't know whether to count myself extremely lucky or very unlucky.

Regardless, both my parents found an inn and became dead drunk that night. The next morning I thought I would be a 'good little boy' and fetch them some both cool water. I knew that they would have splitting headaches this morning. (At the time I didn't even know what a hangover was…but they were habitual drinkers so I had an idea).

It was then that my life truly changed. Coming up with a pail full of water, right from the lake near the village, I saw large plumes of smoke coming from the direction of the village. I dropped the pail, and ran with everything I could back towards the village. My parents were still there after all!

I crested the hill towards the village at the greatest pace I could manage. Only to find that everything was burning, people were screaming, and warriors that appeared to be knights, cut the villagers down indiscriminately. Man, woman, young, old, it didn't seem to matter to them at all. They were like stalks of wheat in a field being reaped. No matter how they struggled, no matter what 'blessing' they used, the abilities couldn't touch the armor.

The armor the warriors wore shone radiantly in white and silver tones, the crest of a ring with a fire inside within its confines was emblazoned on their chest, shoulders, and mantle proudly. I had never seen these people personally before, but I had heard of them. They were a branch of the Misiril Theology, the world's largest religion. They had the sole purpose of exterminating those who were deemed to be 'cursed'. The Silver Purgatorial Knights.

'There was only one reason that they could have come' I thought at the time. 'They are coming for me, for I am cursed'.

So I ran, and I ran. I ran with everything I had, but it wasn't enough. I had been noticed, and a knight ran after me like a starving wolf closing in on its prey. The distance continued to close no matter how hard I ran, tears streamed down my cheeks, my breath became ragged and painful. I then heard a whooshing sound from behind me. A screaming sharp pain from the back of my head caused me to trip over myself. I fell.

The knight had swung his sword towards the back of my head, but call it dumb luck, fate, or whatever, the sword was stopped by the thick leather that made up the back of my muzzle. I only has a deep scratch, nothing to serious, and the muzzle fell off. So with the knight, who had the sword raised preparing the final blow to finish the job, I said the two words that changed my life forever.

"JUST DIE!" The knight reversed his grip on the blade, and jabbed himself in the chink between the chest and head piece. He then fell on top of me, as I was too shocked to so much as move. The knight's blood dripped and splattered all over me; a filthy, crimson rain. This was the first person I killed with my own power.

I realized it then, the terror and fear of the other children, the looks of horror from the old woman. I understood it then. I was a monster, something that shouldn't exist in human flesh. I was human, but I wasn't. I then fled towards the mountains, fleeing from everything. What I had been. What I had done. I left everything behind as it all burned down with those people in the village.

The village that, unlike my own which was nameless, had the name 'Ratwood' It now has no name and is a grassy field, with no trace of former human habitation. I am the only survivor.

-Callahan Nyx, Year: New Era 861-