Thread: to save the niamh

'Nine years, eleven months, twenty nine days.' The seconds ticked away, pushing themselves ever closer to the edge. Tick, tick, tick, tick. Shame. That it had been so long already, already peaking on a decade? Family - was he even allowed to call them such? Faust and Velius, could he refer to them as brothers? Ming as his father? Royalty as his bloodline? Too many questions, only one person with the answers Ming Herub . Yet, of all the people he most needed to talk to he couldn't. Alixsu Herub was not allowed to leave the temple, his training the past decade as a Temple Warrior forbid him from doing such. Not to mention his status in the 'family', the third child. The expendable child. The 'Who cares about you?' child. Third child by two minutes, just two minutes. If he had simply punched, kicked - fought his way out of his mother's womb to be the second child, Velius would be in his position. 'Ten years.' A soft shake of his head, the mental note of the exact time he was dropped off at the Udiya Temple one night. Alixsu thought it was a simple joke by his brother's guards, they had increased the rounds personal servants, guards, and all other sorts of people came in and out of Velius' room the days before - keeping Alixsu away from both Velius and Faust, trapping him in the servant's room, to play with all the maid's children. He questioned the audacity of his father's guards, throw him royalty into a room with slaves ? That was only the starting point, that evening he was packed up, set in a carriage and rode off to the Udiya Temple to start his training as a Temple Warrior. Little did he know, at the time, that he was expendable, the unloved child of the bunch. There were no visits, there were no cards, no love, no support. Nothing. He was twelve, how was he supposed to react but question why everything happened the way it did. Was it because he killed his mother? Wasn't it an accident? She died post-child birth! It wasn't Alixsu's fault, honest! You go through this every year, boy, Alixsu spoke in a sharp, harsh tone of voice. Brown eyelids closing over light brown eyes, arms had already been folded over the male's shirtless torso. The moonlight shining barely on the male's form - it was when the moon was the highest point in the sky during the winter solstice that marked the beginning of another year away from his family. Not that his family has taken the time out of their busy schedules to come pay him a visit. Did Alixsu say he was expendable, yet? A swift shake of his head, violently attempting to shake free from the normal inability to focus on something 'regular' in his life during this time. Mind always found a way to rattle itself back to the topic of his family and questioning why he was abandoned, given up to the Temple and all other means to go along with the topic. Let us not forget the nonsense the temple shoves down your throat daily! The 'Niamh' being a mythical creature that when it dies, it is reborn from it is own ash to live out another life cycle - repeating this said death and rebirth for all its years. It was nonsense, Alixsu hadn't believed it when he first heard about it in their teachings and he still didn't believe it now. Why should he? 'The all-mighty Firebird will return, believe! Believe! I stand up here and preach nothing but crap all day! Listen to me my brethren, listen!' Alixsu could only imagine what sort of people are drawn to such a person in the nearest towns. If he was still in royalty, he wouldn't think twice not about throwing stones at such people along with mocks to their person. Hell, he doesn't think twice about throwing rocks even now! All he makes sure is that he is in a crowd of people before throwing the rock at preachers - did always find it funny to interrupt the Priests of the Temple through child's play. As of late, his mischievousness has been quelled by an unexplained, uncontrollable anger. Through the mental and physical training of becoming a Temple Warrior, the agitation of having false truths, false hopes shoved down your throat like the messiah was coming back to Temporamor just to visit you got to a certain point where he couldn't take it anymore. Alixsu shot up during a sermon, the afternoon sermon during breaks from training - he couldn't take it, his ears were fed up with the lies and deceit that filled this 'Myth', this 'Firebird', the 'Niamh'. Shouting, threats were the least of his worries, his actions escalated. A student attempted to quell his outburst - that boy now knew never ever attempt to calm a raging male from royal blood, especially if he was twice your size. Alixsu's primary thought told him to defend himself, turned around, jabbed the male in the throat before delivering a swift closed right hand to his nose. Least to say, Alixsu was punished severely little food, little water, long work hours as well as sleeping out in the freezing desert nights with nothing but his light work-out attire. Would he ever punch a student again? Yes, in a heart beat. . . would he make sure that the Priest or Priest-under studies were looking? Definitely. Sliding a foot forward, hands melding around the end of a eight foot long, metallic pole. A short, quick step was followed through with a wide, abrupt swing of the pole. Long, curving blade whistling through the air as the movements sliced furiously. The common theme to this day's training, it was spent with him being balled up in a fury. Alixsu worked himself to heat stroke on these days, the wild, clearly angered swings of his glaive telling all there was needed to know 'Leave him alone, unless you wish to see the true might of the male's weapon.' And, yes, Alixsu was skillfully trained with his glaive. The design was basic, the weapon itself was custom made. A strong enough pole to not break on contact with the steel of a sword, or the hardness of rock, clay, stone, as well as a custom design to allow a ten foot long length of chain run bottom of the pole to the head of the glaive. Of course, that was a part of the weapon that he didn't train with until night. The sound of the chain rattling eased well with the usual strong gust of winds of the desert, that, and it was always best to have a trick or up hidden up your sleeve if there was ever a time that called for it. Breaking the pole arm into a weapon that Alixsu could sling toward his enemy, potentially harming them without needing to get in range of the blade of his glaive. It wasn't hard to get lost in Alixsu's training, spectate, that is. His movements were fluid when he wasn't angry, when he could focus and be one with his weapon rather then striking at nothing in the blinding fury. The patting of his padded shoes tapping into the dried-red clay blocks, twenty blocks a foot long by a foot wide to create a relatively large ring to either spar in friendly bouts, hone one skills in solo manners or participate in the small martial art tournaments. Tan clothing did nothing to compliment the sun-kissed skin of the male's, sweat building at his neck, chest, and underarms. Waving the glaive around with angry-ease - bouncing, spinning, jumping, twirling, melding with the glaive to preform intriguing movements. Sliding back toward the middle of the clay platform, hands twirling the lengthy glaive around without nicking the ground. Glaive slowly wrapping around his torso before being spun upright, slamming into the ground. End of the pole slammed hard enough into the platform to shot four blocks up from their cemented slots. Alixsu's eyes shooting open to a narrowed glare on the scenery in front of him. From left to right to front, the male's reaction time to the soon-to-be-falling blocks lightning fast. Shattering the blocks with various attacks, the right with the butt of his glaive. The left with the blunt side of his blade, the front with a clean slice diagonally through the block. Feet planted into the platform, knees bending just a little before spinning on his right heel. Left foot kicking the fourth and final block toward the path leading back toward the Temple. right toward Priest Mumin. 'One. . . two. . . three. . . four. . .' Ya'ahh! A wide smile rested on Mumin's lips, eyes closed as he walked down the steps toward Alixsu, a female behind him - following him. The slab didn't go unnoticed by him, he knew it was coming - Alixsu hated being interrupted, this was how he treated people he tried scaring the crap out of them. The crashing of the blade of his glaive into the clay rock was barely heard from the cracking of the foundation near the old Priest's feet. The debris from the shattered slab falling to Mumin's feet, Alixsu had caught the slab with the blade well before it was out of his reach one that if he failed to hit would've, most likely, killed the Priest on impact. Not that that would've mattered much to the male. You didn't forget what today was, did you Alixsu? Mumin's tone calm, centered. Alixsu's brow cocking - yes, he did forget. Your pilgrimage- Ah, shit, right. Pilgrimaging. . . The taller man spoke, chest heaving in and out as the extent of his flailing about shown on him. Mumin's creepy smile and closed eyes all that was given off after Alixsu replied. Shifting his attention to the female beside Mumin, eyes narrowing to a glare. She looked odd, her skin wasn't as sun-kissed. . . that and, well, it was a female . There wasn't any in the Udiya Temple, there were some in neighboring villages, towns and that sort of thing but, none whatsoever in the temple . Where did this one come from and why did she look so pale? This is part of your pilgrimage now, Alixsu, Eyes instantly switched to give the older male a death stare, What was that? Alixsu quickly shout back at him, no, no, no, no. He had to go to each temple himself to attempt to 'become one with himself' and blah, blah, blah. There was nothing said about babysitting a girl. No.