(( Author's Note: This story depicts an excerpt of the as-of-yet imperfect memory of one Shion Maegne, the origin of the evil surrounding the Avatars, Seers, and the like. In particular, it serves to develop what he 'remembers' his childhood to be like. Reader discretion is advised. Enjoy. ^_^ ))
Scionius....A great and terrible magus from another realm. The name crushed the spirits of lesser beings, and yet none knew of him from RhyDin's records. In truth, he'd been alive for some time both living upon the star and his original world, but fell into a deep sleep during his forays into the former after a curious circumstance, setting the stage for his revival by the Void-riven mage he calls The Parasite: 'Silhouette, The Seraph'. This is the tale of the Archmagus of the Void and Dark and his humble beginnings as The First Incarnation.
The Seers of Eternity were not initially known for the gloomy organization one may know of today. Rather, the "Everseers", as they were aptly named, belonged to a moderately-sized, extended family of mages gifted with the ability of Farsight, or clairvoyance. In most cases, each individual was either capable of seeing into the far future or taking a brief glimpse of the near future with very few variations therein.
Of course, they would often abuse this power, to such an extent that they began touting their gifts as more beneficial to the world within which they resided than any others. Thus, they weeded out amd destroyed lesser magic high houses until they alone had a grip over their realm. 'Twas during this period of war that a young woman was born: Allai Maegne. She, like her relatives, was gifted with Farsight; however, hers was FAAAAR more effective than any birthed before her time. She could not only see into the distant and the soon-to-come, but she could also maintain an eerily composite clarity of past events which she was not alive to witness.
Being the selfish spellweavers they were, her kin blinded her and branded her powerful abilities as "The Forbidden Sight", stating that all who attained it would be deemed a heretic and cleansed of their inherent wickedness. In spite of this, she lived a healthy and pleasant life, and was ultimately wed to an earnest and kind man outside of the clan....pleasant, that is, until she too gave birth to a child: Shion Maegne. This child's appearance drastically differed from the Scionius of Rhy'Din's nightmares. He was blessed with a rich, earthy skin-tone and lengthy, alabaster locks. Additionally, his genes had placed within him a shard of his mother's unfathomable ocular powers. The elder Everseers were quick in their attempts to groom him into a model student in their arts, and by consequence, a model puppet. When he proved that he was no cattle to be bridled, they were put off, left to their own budding unease.
As you have likely gathered, the Everseers' elders did not take kindly to this youth taking what he learned from them and developing it further than they ever could with their own comparably meager talents; although, it was the fact that their observational prowess around the boy's fate and destiny was considerably clouded that ultimately solidified their plan of action. Essentially, they planned to strike blind this new void in their frame of reference and retake their hold over time. This....did not work. As a child, Scionius was EXCEPTIONALLY gifted with magic, not being able to fashion it, but being able to wield a unique energy that the other Seers could not possibly have foreseen. They were defeated and inadvertently slain time and again. In the end, they feared the extinction of their kind and decreed he be banished. Young though he was, he did not mind fending for himself. His mother's blindness, and his father's almost bumbling incompetence with magic left him the sole purveyor of their art.
Alone, he wandered the leafy, forested wastelands of their planet, drawing on little more than the energy about him for sustenance. 'Twas not as adeptly wielded as he did now, but he could survive on it with a modicum of discomfort. Then, the ambushes came. You see, in the wake of his excommunication, one of the elders was host to a vision of him returning to wreak an untold havoc on their lands as a consequence of their wrathful and hateful usurping of the rightful families' homes. Assassin after assassin was felled by his docile and unrestrained might, unbeknownst to him. his own inherent powers were far too great for even him to inhibit, rendering even the most stalwart of foes worthless against him. It was only the final assassin that broke him out of this serene, unerring calm, for when she set upon him and he invariably slew her, her likeness....was that of his mother's.
This single act tore at his mind and shook him to his core, the boy being unsure of just how to take it. Then, his fear quickly shaped the darkness in his nubile heart to resemble a fierce hatred: animus for those who bred him into being the studious and fervent magus that he was, malevolence toward those who had cast him out of his home for his excellence of all things, and finally....a cloying, seething anathema in the fools who made him destroy the only thing he could honestly say he truly loved. With his summary delving into the darkness of his inner-self, his unrelenting malice and the sorrow borne of his loss tempered his sight further: he had gained, coupled with his frightening innate powers, The Forbidden Sight. Returning beneath the veil of a shroud and the shade of nightfall, he set his former home ablaze, torching and brutally executing all he could find. The elders....the young ones....the honest villagers merely wishing reprieve from violence....none of them mattered. The last vestige of peace he could hold onto was gone....or so he thought. Amidst his rage against his would-be aggressors, he managed to corner the survivors of his carnage in the Hall of the Elders. Forcing his way in, he cleaved through the first body he laid his impressive sight upon. He then realized the folly of his zeal in the killing....all too late.
With their last trick, he dismissed the magic he was wont to unleash upon them all and quietly dropped to his knees. His mother had been alive....Allai had still existed, and yet he had been made to slay her not once, but twice. When the last of the mage-swine attempted to capture and apprehend the ostensibly-broken youth, the whole of the city erupted in a maelstrom of sparks and flame, extinguished in mere moments by his....and her powers. Surprisingly, Allai's corpse was not spared in the wrath of the young beast. Such was the fate of those obstructing one whose Darkness had further fed his Hatred and forced him to inevitably succumb to Despair as a consequence. That wasn't even the worst of it. As the Dread Lord remembers it now, having since regained control of his mother's potency, he recounts the lack of an expression on his face whilst the very earth beneath him burned. He hadn't even shed a tear as her form atomized beneath the weight of his monstrous energies....He had become the abomination he once hated; at first, he wasn't perturbed by it at all. Not a bit.
At last, the fires of his rage diminished and dispersed. His homeland lay in ruins, the world nigh on the brink of extinction itself. With the last of his strength, he found himself capable of creating a tear in space-time. At once, he stepped through the threshold, sealing his eyes and walking the Rift in search of both a new home and a fresh start.
Scionius....A great and terrible magus from another realm. The name crushed the spirits of lesser beings, and yet none knew of him from RhyDin's records. In truth, he'd been alive for some time both living upon the star and his original world, but fell into a deep sleep during his forays into the former after a curious circumstance, setting the stage for his revival by the Void-riven mage he calls The Parasite: 'Silhouette, The Seraph'. This is the tale of the Archmagus of the Void and Dark and his humble beginnings as The First Incarnation.
The Seers of Eternity were not initially known for the gloomy organization one may know of today. Rather, the "Everseers", as they were aptly named, belonged to a moderately-sized, extended family of mages gifted with the ability of Farsight, or clairvoyance. In most cases, each individual was either capable of seeing into the far future or taking a brief glimpse of the near future with very few variations therein.
Of course, they would often abuse this power, to such an extent that they began touting their gifts as more beneficial to the world within which they resided than any others. Thus, they weeded out amd destroyed lesser magic high houses until they alone had a grip over their realm. 'Twas during this period of war that a young woman was born: Allai Maegne. She, like her relatives, was gifted with Farsight; however, hers was FAAAAR more effective than any birthed before her time. She could not only see into the distant and the soon-to-come, but she could also maintain an eerily composite clarity of past events which she was not alive to witness.
Being the selfish spellweavers they were, her kin blinded her and branded her powerful abilities as "The Forbidden Sight", stating that all who attained it would be deemed a heretic and cleansed of their inherent wickedness. In spite of this, she lived a healthy and pleasant life, and was ultimately wed to an earnest and kind man outside of the clan....pleasant, that is, until she too gave birth to a child: Shion Maegne. This child's appearance drastically differed from the Scionius of Rhy'Din's nightmares. He was blessed with a rich, earthy skin-tone and lengthy, alabaster locks. Additionally, his genes had placed within him a shard of his mother's unfathomable ocular powers. The elder Everseers were quick in their attempts to groom him into a model student in their arts, and by consequence, a model puppet. When he proved that he was no cattle to be bridled, they were put off, left to their own budding unease.
As you have likely gathered, the Everseers' elders did not take kindly to this youth taking what he learned from them and developing it further than they ever could with their own comparably meager talents; although, it was the fact that their observational prowess around the boy's fate and destiny was considerably clouded that ultimately solidified their plan of action. Essentially, they planned to strike blind this new void in their frame of reference and retake their hold over time. This....did not work. As a child, Scionius was EXCEPTIONALLY gifted with magic, not being able to fashion it, but being able to wield a unique energy that the other Seers could not possibly have foreseen. They were defeated and inadvertently slain time and again. In the end, they feared the extinction of their kind and decreed he be banished. Young though he was, he did not mind fending for himself. His mother's blindness, and his father's almost bumbling incompetence with magic left him the sole purveyor of their art.
Alone, he wandered the leafy, forested wastelands of their planet, drawing on little more than the energy about him for sustenance. 'Twas not as adeptly wielded as he did now, but he could survive on it with a modicum of discomfort. Then, the ambushes came. You see, in the wake of his excommunication, one of the elders was host to a vision of him returning to wreak an untold havoc on their lands as a consequence of their wrathful and hateful usurping of the rightful families' homes. Assassin after assassin was felled by his docile and unrestrained might, unbeknownst to him. his own inherent powers were far too great for even him to inhibit, rendering even the most stalwart of foes worthless against him. It was only the final assassin that broke him out of this serene, unerring calm, for when she set upon him and he invariably slew her, her likeness....was that of his mother's.
This single act tore at his mind and shook him to his core, the boy being unsure of just how to take it. Then, his fear quickly shaped the darkness in his nubile heart to resemble a fierce hatred: animus for those who bred him into being the studious and fervent magus that he was, malevolence toward those who had cast him out of his home for his excellence of all things, and finally....a cloying, seething anathema in the fools who made him destroy the only thing he could honestly say he truly loved. With his summary delving into the darkness of his inner-self, his unrelenting malice and the sorrow borne of his loss tempered his sight further: he had gained, coupled with his frightening innate powers, The Forbidden Sight. Returning beneath the veil of a shroud and the shade of nightfall, he set his former home ablaze, torching and brutally executing all he could find. The elders....the young ones....the honest villagers merely wishing reprieve from violence....none of them mattered. The last vestige of peace he could hold onto was gone....or so he thought. Amidst his rage against his would-be aggressors, he managed to corner the survivors of his carnage in the Hall of the Elders. Forcing his way in, he cleaved through the first body he laid his impressive sight upon. He then realized the folly of his zeal in the killing....all too late.
With their last trick, he dismissed the magic he was wont to unleash upon them all and quietly dropped to his knees. His mother had been alive....Allai had still existed, and yet he had been made to slay her not once, but twice. When the last of the mage-swine attempted to capture and apprehend the ostensibly-broken youth, the whole of the city erupted in a maelstrom of sparks and flame, extinguished in mere moments by his....and her powers. Surprisingly, Allai's corpse was not spared in the wrath of the young beast. Such was the fate of those obstructing one whose Darkness had further fed his Hatred and forced him to inevitably succumb to Despair as a consequence. That wasn't even the worst of it. As the Dread Lord remembers it now, having since regained control of his mother's potency, he recounts the lack of an expression on his face whilst the very earth beneath him burned. He hadn't even shed a tear as her form atomized beneath the weight of his monstrous energies....He had become the abomination he once hated; at first, he wasn't perturbed by it at all. Not a bit.
At last, the fires of his rage diminished and dispersed. His homeland lay in ruins, the world nigh on the brink of extinction itself. With the last of his strength, he found himself capable of creating a tear in space-time. At once, he stepped through the threshold, sealing his eyes and walking the Rift in search of both a new home and a fresh start.