• The glow of twilight covered the vast mountains that were spread across the land of japan’s divine rule. The sight was extraordinary, the very moutain getting engulfed within the new moon’s darkness. But the light of the falling sun leaving creaks and gleams that outlined the very shape of the mountain. The stream of the Japanese lighting in celebration of the fall festival made the floor look like streams of spiritual from above. Each stream, oh so delicately, making cracks within the deep abyss blackness of the new moon’s darkness. The light of the falling sun slowly fading into the ground; almost omnipotently.

    In the center, a single mountain slightly bigger than the ones that surrounded the village that was in the midst of celebrating the new fall. The cold chilling wind grew stronger there while the black leaves of the shadowy place rustled. This was the center of the village, everything around this mountain was part of the village that it seemed to rule or oversee. The place, with the sight of the traditional lights, seemed to be older than the rest of the modernized world. Field still being plowed, an agriculture based society, with no sight of modern technology within this small yet large community of several hundred and maybe a thousand people.

    While the people cheered and praised to their gods, being this place was a Zoroastrian and as well Shinto based society, a arising of their lord was occurring, Lord Durium of the Naito clan that has been ruling these lands for the based several years.

    The mountain's peak had a large japanese castle. The peak of this mountain was flat expanding a mile in each directions. Upon this flat surface a large wall square shaped wall covered majority of the edges of the mountain peak. A single gate was on these large metallic walls where the path from the village grew. The gate had constant security of two spearman that had keys to open and close the gate; trusted guardians of the Lord and Prince Durium. Each corner of the wall had a watch tower armed with three to ten archers with advanced and magical arrows that allowed them to compete with the new technology of the outer-world.

    Inside these walls two buildings stood at equally large heights that were connected only by a small pathway that seemed to be a way to go from one building to the next without having to leave the building to go to the next. The left building was the one where the current king or prince would listen to the problems of the people of the land. The right which was the place which accommodated the Naito clan and the deceased Naito’s ashes.

    In the chamber cellars of the family castle light thumping noises would echo across the area. A dark figure hidden within the midst of the darkness began climbing the stairs of the cellar towards the main throne room. Out of the shadow and into the light of the castle’s main throne room a single masculine figure came out. This figure would have his head to his knees covered in a undertaker like cloth-jacket but without sleeves. The shadow of the jacket’s hoodie concealing the face unless one was to be right in front of it. But the being’s long black tip’s came out of the jacket. The Being seemed to be around the height of five-foot and eleven inches and weigh around one-hundred and forty-so pounds. His pant’s were a black leather that seemed to have a stream of conductive wraps of metallic stripes. His gloves visible seemed to crawl up to his arm to near the edge of his armpit on each side;strangely also with the same metallic stripes. and that slight part of his arm that was visible (The edge of his glove to his shoulder) was a snowy and ghostly white. And his boots went up half way between his ankles and knees and had the same metallic stripes that most of his stuff had. (His black shirt under this cloth like undertaker jacket also had this feature). Two scythes were on his back in a X like manor. These scythes had an eyeball on the part in which the crescent metallic blade met the metallic poll and along with this the metallic poll was covered within a organic and demonic being. Each complete twins with each other; two twin demon scythes.

    The way he walked was formal yet informal. He seemed like he had the authority but none of the noble and grace that came towards with that never-changing authority that was always dominant within a king’s, queen’s, prince’s, and even a princess’s step. He then went onto his stone throne as placed his gloved hands (From his fingertips to his ankle) onto the armrest located on both of his sides.

    The creek of the castle main lobby echoed across the room (The lobby was located in front of the throne and the lobby was separated only by the stair’s that made the throne room above it). “My lord and prince Darium may I have a word with you?”, a villager asked with a desperate tune. “It will only take mere seconds my lord and prince!”, he said with a stressed tune. The being within the undertaker cloth-jacket rose his head towards the male and rose his gloved hand to push down the hoodie to reveal his features.

    The male was a handsome young fellow, his hair however was his most noticeable feature, the white hair was dominant on the top with dyed jet black hair on the tips and ending of his hair. His hair went into the undertaker cloth-jacket so the exact length of the said hair would be unknown as of now. His face a snow white with black jet cold eyes that seemed to pierce the deeper being of one’s soul. A scar was noticeable on the crossbridge of the bottom of his lip and on the upper left part of his cheek. His ears seemed to be elven despite everything else looking humaine due to the fact he was not human.

    “Speak”, his voice seemed to boost with the echo of the room without try. “Tell me what you wish to say or leave my presence”, he said with a rather unemotional tone that lacked any sign of sympathy or something a normal person would be if they were to hear something dire had arose.

    “A foreign unknown being is coming or is rumored to come to the mountain's green plains outside the mountain barrier that protects our great old village. One that may be a great threat and would be bad if our land were to be discovered. The land of where demon and humans mix together in freedom”, he said with a downed tone. The little male seemed to be within his late fifties and had gray hair that was already falling out. A average old person but he didn’t slouch like most.

    “I will check it out later”, he said with a simple shrug “Nothing I cannot handle or deal with. Now out of my castle if you please”, he said with a rather annoyed tone that showed he had some form of emotion within his body. The old man slowly made his way down to the castle’s door as Lord Durium brought his right hand to his face and sighed.

    Lord Durium rose from his throne and made his way towards the entrance of his castle so he could exit and explore the edges of the mountain for these being that was rumored to come around these abandoned parts. He moved his left hand to make his undertaker cloth jacket go over his right hand so his shirt and as well back was visible. His shirt was a black closely connected shirt that showed the slight muscles of his upper body;this shirt too had metallic strips on it. But on his back right near the ends of his shoulder blades the shirt was cut. “ Kami no tsubasa “ he said (Japanese for divine wings) with a ancient tone. Once he reached outside of the castle’s door and the strong chilly wind of fall’s new moon night picked up the undertaker cloth-jacket in a flowing manner a second wind appeared around his shoulder blades. Something manifesting into where the cuts of the shirt where. Two long seven foot wings (Wingspan of fourteen or so) where white with tips of jet black much like his hair. The wing’s of a kresnik usually were a scaly leather type but Durium was one of the elites. Gifted with the blessing of his zoroastrian lord of darkness Angra Mainyu.

    Lord Durium ran towards the opening gates of the castle wall and jumped once he reached an edge. His wings flapping in a rhythmic motion of brilliance. His cloth flowing along his right side with the wind of the night. The darkness he strived for and the hate he would die for, it felt so nice that he could die from it.

    “Outcasts, callused from being in exile for too long, learn to thrive on being the hated; the attention and infamy of our actions fuel us to become antiheroes. Too often do we forget: we risk self-destruction if we fail to follow what we know is right; our talents too often become misplaced, misdirected, misguided from what could have been something wonderful. Which would be that of death.” , Durium spoke these words as he made his descent in the area in which the old man told Durium the foreign being would appear around tonight. His wings fluttering making slight whirlwinds . As he landed on the floor of the moving grass that flowed along with the breeze he looked around, waiting.