Flames of War Chapter One: Embers of Hope (Part I)

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Stygia yawned as she stood up and stretched her stiff muscles. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she grabbed by sword from where it hung on her bedroom wall. Made of glass derived from melted soulsand, it was indestructible and acted as the perfect tool for channeling soul power. She smiled as she ran her hand over the warped wood handle. It had been a gift from her brother, Taurus, for her sixteenth birthday.

Stygia stepped out from her room and surveyed the Nether Kingdom from above her balcony. The Capital Fortress stood in the Nether Ruins, overlooking other biomes in the distance. Below, the black ramparts and rooms of the massive Nether Fortress bustled with life. Wither skeletons stood in positions around the halls, standing guard over the structure. Overhead, pale Ghasts floated above, crying their woes as they flew. Blazes, crackling with flames, lit their paths as they glided along the floors. Below the fortress, Zombified Piglins and Hoglins ran around aimlessly, their rotten corpses shuffling as they stumbled along. In the lava moat surrounding the ashen brick stronghold Magma cubes jumped about, their molten forms stretching as they leaped, then condensing as they landed once more. With each leap, ashes swirled around them.

Far down in the center, Stygia could see the massive throne room. Open to the air above, the massive throne stood proudly as it flaunted the power of the Nether Kingdom. Stygia couldn’t help but be in awe each time she looked at it. Especially considering her position in society. *As the Princess, I’m royalty!* With the drowsiness finally gone, she walked out of the balcony and to the walkway connecting her royal suite to the rest of the city. As she strode through the hall, Wither skeletons snapped to attention. Each one rattled their bones in respect and nodded. Stygia straightened from her slouch, her eyes blazing with pride. *Well, they arn’t bowing for me.* In truth, they were bowing because of her father. King Hyperion was a legend to the people, the hero who saved the kingdom from destruction at the hands of the Piglins. Because she was his daughter, that commanded respect like no other. Everyone just assumed she was as good as her father, especially since she was destined to become the next general of the Nether forces. Still, it made her feel great pride to see how much her family was loved.

Suddenly, General Rygirian appeared behind her, having come through the exit of a different hallway and into hers. He was mostly gray, with his sooty raised areas on his shoulders, hands, and feet. On his chest, arms, and legs glowing markings like flames made it seem as though he wore a suit of molten armor. And his face*…his face!* Everytime she looked at his face, Stygia couldn’t help but giggle. Once, she had gone into the royal library and read about a strange creature named a creeper. Unfortunately for Rygirian, his face looked like a lava version of a creeper’s. Because of that, she had started calling him Creeper Face whenever she could. Now, the elder Netherean sighed at such young insolence. With a tight voice, he turned to her and laid out the day’s plans. “As you requested yesterday, we will do an extra training session.” Stygia giggled when he finished speaking. She couldn’t stop herself. *His voice is so high pitched, almost like a little kid’s!* Sure, he was the top general, second to none but the king himself. *But still!* Though you wouldn’t be laughing if you had to fight him. Rygirian was one of the greatest warriors the Nether had ever seen, with only Hyperion being stronger. The general shook his head at her, his face a scowling mask of disappointment.

Together, the two traveled down to a massive courtyard within the fortress. It was designed like an obstacle course, a true battlefield. The warped nylium acted as a carpet for the ground. All around, wither roses acted as decoration. Bits of what was meant to be a ruined fortress stood here and there, acting as the obstacles, or possible advantages depending on how you looked at it. To provide light, soul torches hung in random places. Her brother, Tarrus, stood in the corner of the training room. With his rectangular eyes, he smiled at her. Since they were little, he would always act as her support during these training sessions. Rygirian walked ten paces away, then turned to face her. With a nod, he pulled out his weapon. Stygia nodded back and pulled her broadsword out. As she waited for her opponent to make the first move, she looked over the workmanship of Rygirion’s blade. His weapon was a shining iron halberd. Its spear tip glistened in the low light of the scattered soul lanterns. Its skinny, curved back side blade shined ominously, and its rounded front blade looked like two giant teeth due to the gap in the middle.

Faster than a blaze’s fireball, Rygirian stabbed outwards with the tip of his weapon. *That’s too easy!* With a smirk she deflected his blade to the side and stepped forward to strike. But as soon as she did, he stepped forward and slammed the end of his weapon into her stomach, causing her to double over in pain. Without giving her time to recover, Rygirian thrust the blunt end upwards in a savage swing, slamming it into her face and sending her sprawling to the ground. Coughing and gasping, she could do nothing as her opponent put the tip of his halberd to her throat. Rygirian shook his head at her. “Don’t get cocky. That’s when you miss the cues.” Ashamed, Stygia got up on shaky legs when he let her up. Rygirian walked back to his starting position, then gave the nod.

This time, Stygia took the offensive. With a furious speed, she lashed out again and again. But each time, her opponent was ready. Slowly, fury and anger got the best of her and she became reckless in her attempts to break Rygirian’s guard. Rygirian gave her a disappointed look as he dodged her clumsy attempt for a stab. With ease, he spun away, slamming her skull with the flat of his blade when he finished his spin. He looked down at her. “You can’t let your anger take over in a fight. It clouds your judgment.”

Stygia got up and brushed herself off, grumbling about know-it-alls. *Just because he’s older and closer to my dad doesn’t mean he gets to treat me like some little kid! I can fight too, even if it isn't as good as him!* They were about to continue the sparring practice, when Rygirian snapped to attention. Stygia turned to see what was happening and spotted her father coming towards them from behind.

Once her father reached them, Rygirian immediately bowed. Hyperion nodded to him. “Up, soldier.” Her father’s voice was deep and strong, almost as though an earthquake was speaking. Even without trying, his voice filled up the room. “I’ve said it many times before. There is no need to bow so formally.” As an amused king watched on, Rygirian scrambled to his feet and nodded. “Of course, your highness, my mistake.” King Hyperion waved away his apology. “There is nothing to apologize for. You showed respect, something I am grateful for.” Her father’s face darkened. “Especially now, in these dark times.”

Her father was an unusual looking Netherean, due to the fact that he was a hybrid. Son of Vulcannus and Abigail, he was part human and part Netherean. HIs skin was mostly smooth like a humans, with his shoulders and feet being the exception. However, his skin was the same color as a Nethereans, and he had the same glowing markings like lava on his body. On either side of his face, a staircase of flaming markings helped mark his identity. However, the feature that set him apart the most was his L shaped eyes. Instead of orange, they were purple like an Enderknight’s. Another thing that made him stand out were his powers. He had skills that other Nethereans did not have, things that were unique to him. Perched on his head, the Nether Crown glowed along with the NetherBlade which was slung over his back.

Stygia looked at her father with concern. “What do you mean, ‘especially in these dark times’?” Hyperion looked at his daughter with shame on his face. He sighed. “Ever since your mother’s death, I have focused only on the Piglins. Like a fool, I let my sight become narrow and short.” He slammed his hand against a nearby nether brick chunk. “I was blind to the Overworld and the End, even though their mistrust and history made them our greatest adversaries!” His expression became like that of broken glass, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I just wanted to ensure that nothing like what happened to my father or your mother would happen again. Now, because of that, even my mother has died! I could have saved them all if I had just paid attention and caught the signs.” Both siblings exchanged a look, then walked over to their father and hugged him. The topic of their mother was always a risky one, a source of grief for their stricken parent. Tarrus spoke up first. “What happened to mother wasn’t your fault. He couldn’t have stopped what happened.”

Fury overcame Hyperion as he roared. “I should have been stronger, I should have insisted that she didn’t fight! I failed her, just like I failed my father. I let the power of royalty get to my head! I didn’t act responsibly or take my duties seriously! If I had I would have known what my brother was planning!” His rage vented, the king slumped, his eyes shattered by guilt. “Now, thanks to me, both of them died. Iapitus killed father to help the Piglins, and I wasn’t fast enough to prevent it. Then I let your mother fight with me, and the Piglin Emperor ended her as well.”

Surprisingly, it was Rygirian who spoke first. In a low and gentle voice, he calmed his king down. “You couldn’t have stopped Styx from fighting. Even if you told her not to go, she would have followed you anywhere. She believed in you, and you succeeded. And none of us could have suspected your brother as a traitor. Your father trusted you, and look what you’ve accomplished!” Hyperion looked up, his face bitter with regret as tears fell from his eyes to the ground. “They shouldn’t have. I got them all killed and let the kingdom fall. Some accomplishment.” Stygia was about to speak up, but her father interrupted. His face steeled to keep away emotions, he continued his reasons for being there. “Recently, however, intelligence found out that crimson vine powder was shipped out of the Nether by Piglins.” Stygia tilted her head in confusion. “But that would be bad. The other species would get infected by the Nether virus if they breathed it in. And there is no other use for the stuff, right?”

Hyperion nodded. “My suspicion became aroused, and I knew only disaster could come from that. So I sent the Blood Angel to investigate. He managed to find where the Virus came from.” Stygia waited for her father to continue as he closed his eyes in dread. “It went to the End. Because of that, the End is now infected. Even worse, it has allowed an ambitious Enderknight to take power. Now, he blames the virus on us and the End is demanding Vengeance. It is only a matter of time before they attack.” Hyperion scowled in distaste. “Not only that, but a certain Ardoni is back in power and on the march. Victor Octavion Voltaris.” With the way that her father spat out the name, her curiosity spiked. She looked at her father slyly. “Sounds like you know this individual well, father.” Hyperion laughed darkly. “Indeed I do. After the war with the Piglins, I realized that it was his fault it happened.” The king swept his gaze across his audience. “Victor was trying to perform an ancient ritual to bring the primes into one fused song for himself. He had the Unyielding Legion supporting him, so his enemy, Tysor Kylus Voltaris, couldn’t stop him. Not alone. So he planned to come to the Nether to get our help since his kin wouldn’t listen to him and the Humans were busy with the Illagers. But Victor couldn’t allow it.” Hyperion growled and slammed his fist against the nether brick chunk again. “He convinced my brother to betray us and secured for him an alliance with the Piglins.” Hyperion sighed as he slumped against the brick. “It seemed like our kingdom was over. However, I escaped and, with the help of Tysoar, created an army. When we took back the Nether, I repaid him for the help by giving him the soldiers needed to accomplish his mission. So yes, I am more than acquainted with that villian.” Rygirian nodded thoughtfully, stroking his chin as he took in the information. “So we have two separate enemies coming.” Rygirian shook his head in confusion. “But the End alone cannot defeat us, and neither can such a small legion of mercenaries.”

Hyperion shook his head. “It is worse. Victor has allied with the Enderknights. Plus, the Enderknights have secured several alliances with different human kingdoms. Combined, they are powerful. Plus, I am not all that sure that the Piglins won’t join them. The Blood Angel has noticed some suspicious activity in the Nether edges…” Hyperion looked out across the training field, lost in thought. They all waited for him to finish his thought, but he merely continued to stare out into blank space.

The king snapped out of it as the sound of wingbeats echoed over the still courtyard. From above, a winged figure dropped from the sky and onto the ground in front of them. *The Blood Angel.* The Blood Angel was a Zombified Piglin with pink, blood splattered, bony wings. Disgusting snorts issued from his mouth as he addressed the king. Hyperion nodded, surprise briefly flickering across his face. Stygia glared at the Blood Angel. Apparently, the Blood Angel was one of the only Piglins who actually supported Vulcannus. To show this loyalty, they had killed themselves so that they would come back to life Zombified and under the control of the Nether Crown. Among them, the Blood Angel was the only one with wings, gotten due to his hybrid blood. While her father may have trusted the Blood Angel and his kind, she never would. *Not after what happened to my mother at the hands of their kin.* She could never forgive them. They could have warned my father, but they didn’t. *They kept their mouths shut about the rebellion until it came to pass, then decided to side with my father because of his growing power. They probably just didn’t want to get punished for the crimes of their kind!*

Hyperion nodded to the Blood Angel. “Detain our guests at the entrance for a little longer so that we can return to the throne room.” The Blood Angel nodded. Then, with a mighty heave, he pushed himself into the sky and flapped off. Once he was gone, Hyperion motioned for the others to follow him. “Apparently we have guests who wish to speak with me.” All except Rygirian had to sprint in order to keep up with the king’s long stride. As they walked out, the Royal Guard joined them. The guard consisted of wither skeletons, all equipped with a full suit of Netherite armor, shields, and Netherite blades. Quickly, Stygia put on her gilded Netherite armor. While she couldn’t be the top general since Rygirian already had that position, she was preparing in different ways. In order to teach her how to be a leader, Hyperion had made his daughter Captain of the Royal Guard, with the gilded armor symbolizing that.

In no time, they had reached the throne room. It was massive, open to the sky, and at the top of the center of the fortress. As she entered, Stygia stopped for a second to look back at the breathtaking view that the throne room gave over the kingdom. Her father had once told her that the view had led to a portal to the Overworld instead. Now, that portal was long gone. As she went past the walkway, lava bubbled and hissed in the pits on either side. The Throne itself had been rebuilt after it was destroyed in the Crimson Crusade, the war against the Piglins. Where it had once been Nether brick, it was now solid Netherite except for the bottom of the seating part, which was solid gold. Two inward curved quartz pillars stood on either side of the throne. The floor, unlike the rest of the city, was made of blackstone bricks, with the path part being gilded.

On either side of the throne room, the Royal Guards each made a line, then snapped to attention when they had reached their positions. As the Captain of the Royal Guard, Stygia went into her position at the center of the room. Attentively, the guards discreetly watched, ready to jump into combat at the first sign of hostility or when Stygia gave the signal to defend the throne. On either side of the throne, Tarrus and Rygirian stood tall. Rygirian put on a fierce expression and leaned on his halberd. King Hyperion climbed onto the Nether Throne and sat in a regal position of grace and steadfast strength.

A few minutes later, the Blood Angel appeared and bowed to Sygia. She nodded to him and studied the arrivals. It was a group of six Ardonia. Their runes were a mix of green, purple, blue, and yellow. Two of them seemed to be the leaders. The first was a female with yellow markings and blond hair. She kept glancing around. *She’s nervous and scared.* *This place is different to her.* The second one was green with a rune like a scar over his right eye. His eyes blazed with determination, eyes that were on a mission. By the way his weapons were situated over his back, she assumed he must be left-handed. Both of them had small horns, indicating that they were young. Nonetheless, the other Ardoni seemed to show a difference to them, the green one in particular. With a glance over, she let them in.

The green one stepped forward first and spoke boldly. “I am the one known as the Dawnsinger in the world above. I am here…” Hyperion cut him off with a wave of a hand, much to the shock of the stunned speaker. Hyperion narrowed his eyes at the newcomer, though his voice remained casual. “Oh, I know who you are, son of Tysoar, member of the house of Kylus. Just as I know why you are here.” With that statement, the entire room froze with shock. The stunned expression on the Dawnsinger’s face told it all. *He doesn’t know my father…but my father knows him?!*

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