Kuro pt. 1

Pain….deep unimaginable suffering. A deep longing feeling that lingers in one’s chest. That feeling of absolute despair like nothing will ever pull you out of this pit. But have you ever had the opposite, a moment so pleasurable….so blissful and pleasant that you never wish for this moment to end. However you can’t help but dwell on the thought knowing that this moment must sooner or later come to an end. That this moment will one day become a memory. There sat my father, his arms folded across his chest, his neck craned and titled to the side. His eyes cocked as he tried his hardest to remember something. He looked at me and sighed.

“Sorry for constantly playing that memory in your head”

“Which one?”

“You know the memory I’m talking about Flaemis….its your brain after all”

Suddenly it became clear…..like a blindfold was removed from my eyes. That memory….looking over mom’s grave. I wasn’t remembering it of my own accord but being forced to remember it. A dull pulsing rang in my ears and my whole world shook.

“Look Flaemy….”

“All this time I thought you were dead and you’ve just been playing doctor with my memories!”

“I am dead….all I am is the figment of your father’s will barely clinging on to life” He tapped his chin and then suddenly he pointed at the fire in front of him. “Think of it like this fire here….flickering fading away…..soon to be nothing more than ash”

“No! Please Please stay!”

“Sorry boy….I wish I could”

“No please….” I whispered softly. “Don’t die again!”

“Flaemis! Kin’emon is fighting for his life right now and all you can do is whine….look I love you son! I’m proud of you but unfortunately” he stood up wordlessly. He gave me one final smile and the fire went out. His body fading away burning up as if he was made of only a stack of paper. His one silver earring dropped to the ground before burning away and blowing away in the wind.

Darkness, light, darkness, light. It all surrounded me as I came to. Sitting up I looked around at the endless miles of destruction. Devastation and the wake of bodies that festered around. With shaky uneven footing and vision I fought to stand up.
“C’mon son….you ready?”Virgil said, extending his hand. “We got an archbishop to silence”
I nodded the words forming but shly backing away at the last second. I got to my feet properly as the world set in, a cacophony of sounds that battered into my head like a punch. I shook my head recoiling as I did.

Fire, fire so hot and furious. You could swear it was from hell itself. Fire is often seen as a force of needless raging mindless destruction while water is viewed as the more positive encompassing the comfort of nature while fire represents mother nature’s unkempt, unchecked rage. While there is a case to be made about fire in this manner this ins’t all it should be known for. Fire is protective, passionate and will not stop unless its destroyed. Can’t fault a conceptually passionate thing can you? Tapping his cane on the ground, Virgil's brow furrowed with rage. His eyes glazed over with a film, a small cloudy film that sat over his eyes like candle wax to an impression. The fire started small, one small ember on his index finger. It grew and grew, from hands to shoulder, shoulder to chest. Chest to legs, legs to feet and then feet to head. Before anyone even knew what the hell even happened Virgil wasn’t Virgil anymore. Covered head to toe in flames blue and indignant with a righteous fury. The man that stood before me wasn’t a man….but he was a walking inferno. The flames that made up his arms danced, swinging around wildly. Before coalescing into a large flaming hammer.

“Flaemis if you don’t roll something good we’re going to die.” Virgil said, shoving his cane into my chest. Walking off towards the ever growing sounds of battle.

“A…Alright”

Life or death hung on a string, balanced over a razor’s edge. One small slip up and everything fails. I wasn’t someone to gamble, but I didn’t like these odds. Shakily I held my wand. Shadows filled my head, doubt eclipsed my mind and I couldn’t run from the overwhelming stress of this horrible nightmare. As If I was nothing more than a beast made of shadows there I stood. A man of shadow: sculpted out of grey green smoke and shadow that swirled and danced around me. In my mind, there was nothing but swirling chaotic bloodlust that came and went but visited every second. All my rational thought, all my wits pushed back to the subconscious all my doppelganger wanted was nothing more than blood.

But I wasn’t the only one. I could feel my legs pound against the ground. Jumping into the air my assault began.

“Oh! As if I’d let that touch me!” Roxas shot, tossing his paintbrush in my direction. With a savage thoughtless punch I knocked it away. “Gotcha” Roxas said like a black bolt of lighting above me. A ball of fluctuating spinning ink in his hands.

“KUROSEIUS: ASHERA!” His hands connected against my back. The ball of ink softly landed on my back. It suddenly began to spin violently, my entire body began to spin and spin uncontrollably. Suddenly the ball of ink boiled away as Virgil’s hammer swung over me. Swinging his hammer it connected against Roxas’ cheek, knocking one of his god forsaken teeth from his mouth.

“Virgil….striking an Arch Bishop means death! You know this as well as I?”

“Death….don’t humor me Roxas….i’m an old man not long for this world anyway”

“Well guess I better start getting a little serious then” Roxas said holding out his hand. His paintbrush appeared in his paw. His muzzle cringed and winced as a low growl rolled from under breath.
KUROSEIUS: INNATE SKILL: DOOM AND GLOOM!! A second paintbrush appeared in his paws. “Lets have a dance shall we”

“Yes lets!”

Getting to my feet, I frothed, ropes of thick spit and saliva flowed from my mouth in long white chains of unadulterated rage. I raced forward not thinking, caring or planning out my idea. I just went for it. I punched him, it wasn’t a hard punch, more of a sucker punch than an actual hit. He toppled landing on his back.

“Pontiff was right, you are fun!” He said before standing up in a single uninterrupted fluid unorthodox manner. To say it was uncanny was an understatement. He swung his brushes, punching them. I answered his challenge. He swung and it connected against my cheek. Spraying its ink, it landed on me. Wherever the ink landed on me. Was brought out of the darkness of shadow. Virgil swung his hammer only to get blocked by a thrown paintbrush.

“Settle down grandpa I have priorities”

Roxas suddenly stopped, his body tensed and he looked around with a frenzied fever. Everything around him had stopped but him. As if time had stopped for the world outside except him.

He knew it could mean only one thing. Step, Step, Step

“Well howdy Roxas, didn’t expect to see you here??”

“Estarossa sir” Roxas fell to his knees in prostration.

“And that’s my problem Roxas….you’re an arch bishop of my sin, and on my turf”

“But sir! I can explain!”

“You’re crimes are indefensible” Estarossa’s voice echoing like a wind chime. He placed his fingers against Roxas’ head. “I will never be just a memory”