Alright
This story does not begin with once upon a time
For the main character of my tale knows not of time
Or even space
I now speak to you of those you know as Aramors
The Aramors were once long ago made by a human hand, by human talent, by human inspiration
And they were constructed not as warriors or creatures or suits of armor
For you see, their Kreator had made them because of the Aramors` own will to exist
I speak of none other than Gabriel Wind`s faithful squire and life long friend
The good and ancient Lord Willow
Of whome I assume you`ve heard tales before...
Indeed the Aramors are powered neither by Soul, as we understand the Soul
Neither by just Magic, as we understand that concept either
The Armors as they were made... had a spark of their own
A more primal and rugged spark
That could not stay as the spark we know
But instead spread... all over the suit of armor
Making every scale have a life of its own
And thus the Aramors were made
Not one by one
Not by a hundred
But in just one event, one heartbeat, one blink, one breath
Through the talent and passion of Lord Willow
All the Aramors that ever were, are and will be
Were ``born``
They built a Chamber for themselves
In a place where they could aid all and bother none
The No Man`s Land
And since that age until this time... there they all stayed
Waiting to be given a reason for their new existance
Now...
This is not my tale
But just the prologue``
Although long and somewhat technical as well as biblical, it serves a purpose
My tale is of but One...
One Aramor, one sole spark...
The first Aramor that had not just life, but thought and passion of its own
I wish to tell you of the ``life`` of the Aramor that came to be known
As Hallowed Zenith
The name although religious
Does not serve quite that purpose
For how else do you call an Aramor that did not come out of the Aramory but instead fell from the sky?
Zenith`s past is unknown for although Aramors have memory
Once they become not only self aware but also imbued with passion, that memory fades away
The moment Hallowed Zenith fell from the sky, an Aramor had died, and something else came to life
As ``fortune`` would have it... Zenith didn`t fall in the more quiet places of the Realm
Such as the Cabin or the Fountain in the Park
Zenith`s good fortune had im fall right in on the mountain which is the island
...
If you could call that good fortune
I for one, cannot
Not only was his coming to Golemus Golemicarum foreseen
by the great diviners of the time
But it was also needed
And thus, we slip into our second chapter
Zenith fell from the sky
And I now speak of Jillayan
The man who was not a mage
Nor a wizard
Nor a sorcerer
Nor a warlock
Nor a healer
Nor a witch
Jillayan had a more profound profession
He was a Necromancer
And also an Architect
From all the things he built, only one structure remains
His home
On the shores of Golemus Golemicarum
The Ivory Tower
As Jillayan was warned of the Aramor`s coming
He desired nothing more
But to make him his own creation
A creation not made out of life or death
And that is in fact how Zenith was born
As the Aramor fell and shattered
His spark was forced to reunite into one entity
And as the scales of the armor start to fade away and turn to magical ash
The Necromancer seized the spark and forced it down upon the decaying scales
This was no Illusion or Alchemy
And even though there was no law that could had allowed the necromancer to do this, he succeeded
The scales that turned to ash now turned to flesh
The hollowness inside of him turned to blood and bone
And thus... The first Aramor had truly died
And Hallowed Zenith came to be!
And that is in fact how Zenith was born
As the Aramor fell and shattered
His spark was forced to reunite into one entity
And as the scales of the armor start to fade away and turn to magical ash
The Necromancer seized the spark and forced it down upon the decaying scales
This was no Illusion or Alchemy
And even though there was no law that could had allowed the necromancer to do this, he succeeded
The scales that turned to ash now turned to flesh
The hollowness inside of him turned to blood and bone
And thus... The first Aramor had truly died
And Hallowed Zenith came to be!
An Aramor that wore not a metal armor as a shell but a human body
Soon after his birth the necromancer had tried to teach him his ways
But Zenith could not learn
Instead the ones that are now dead remembered him on their deathbeds
As a wandering Hero
They knew not of his odd past
But they all knew of the great deeds he performed in life
Many of his deeds are now forgotten
But some legends and myths say that he was the first except the Three Kings to ride a Drachorn into battle
He is rumored to have singlehandedly infiltrated the heart of Deathmarrow
And fought an entire legion of Shades
And if you dare to believe that all that is true
And I assure you it is
Then how many of you would believe that the Human Aramor known as Hallowed Zenith was the only individual that was ever kissed by the Queen of Angiens
That is Zenith`s greatest legend
For the Queen`s kiss is said to grant immortality
And even so, he grew old... like all of us do
And when the only Aramor that knew time, met time, he along with all his deeds
Was swallowed by the river of time
It is a sad story
But I never promised you a story with a happy ending
However... for those of you who listened so far
I wish to share a great secret
Zenith was born out of three things
Cryxus: *leans in smiling*
Willow`s passion to create
The necromancer`s passion to give birth through creation
And all of the Aramors` passion to be born through creation
This is my secret for you: Have all the Creatures, have all the Magic, but without Passion to bind them to your Essence, it is like you have just ash and dust
: )
That`s my story for now...
I hope you enjoyed it and I hope that you will be able to learn from it
Thu Dec 18, 2008 2:58 pm