Kalan Rehivenir/Story

The reincarnation of a human legatus named **Kaladin**, who upon his death was blessed with a soul pact from his **Phoenix** companion. The warrior fell in battle, dying in the service of his people and the magnificent bird was injured in her attempts to try and protect him. In her final moments, she engulfed Kaladin in a blaze of her sacred fire and sealed her aether with his essence. Their forms perished, aught but ash and fire left. Or so it was believed.

The battle over, the fires simmered to an ember, medics combed the battleground for survivors. It was then that a small baby was discovered, wrapped in ash and sheltered in flames unburnt.

The baby was taken and sent hastily to the capital city, **Laieus**. Medics received the child yet the boy was healthy, not battle scathed nor injured by the fire he was found within. Too special to be sent to an orphanage he was delivered to the temple of Apollo where the sun god’s holy worshippers could raise the baby.

Immediately speculations came about of the boy, eye witnesses who survived the battle giving their accounts of what they had seen in Kaladin’s and Phoenix’s last moments. The baby’s piercing blue eyes reflected gold beneath firelight and his body gave off warmth, even when the bitter cold of the winter months came. Fire pulled towards him and a golden crown of hair began to cover his head.

The baby was named **Kalan** in honour of his former life and deemed to be a blessing from the gods. For never before in their history had an **Imethieous** *(a hybrid of human and mythos, a legendary creature)* appeared in their world as a babe. They had always been delivered incarnate of an adult, ready to take on the world and serve their people.

Kalan grew up within the temple, constantly surrounded by others. The priests and priestesses were the closest thing he had to family yet he rarely had any informal or personal moments apart from with a select few. Holy folk came and went throughout his life, just like the public who came to receive blessings from him or even merely to lay their eyes upon the half phoenix, “Son of Apollo”. Yet he was allowed in times to play with other children and Kalan looked forward to those moments for their young innocent minds treated him like they would any other - until time tore them apart, beliefs planting Kalan in a new light for them and they became just like any other who crowded him.

In his childhood, Kalan began his lessons with fire early. He had always had a natural affinity to his magic but his guardians wished to ensure he had control over an element that could easily become dangerous. Fire responded to him well, smoothly tamed by the child until moments his emotions ran too high. It would react as if his feelings were manifested, lashing out or protecting him. And thus, Kalan has always felt safe before his element.

It was decided upon an early age that Kalan would be shielded from the reality of what was intended for his kind. Imitheous were always brought into the cover of temples and given invisible bindings. Many knew all the godly expectations upon them were illusionary shackles to ensure their power did not run amok but due to their teachings, many accepted it as the way of things. Unlike humans with great power seeking more and prestige, Imitheous inherited the modesty gods bestowed upon their kind in order to try and maintain balance and prevent the Chaos returning that was foretold to bring everything to its end.

Raised more human than others of his kind, developing their mindsets, those in power feared that Kalan could be corrupted much easier and believed the way the fire responded to his emotions as if it were his being itself was an indicator of such.

Plus… They intended for him to return to the war fields to fight under their banners when he came of age. Imitheous were the Atharaen’s greatest weapons after all. Due to this future intended for him, the young phoenix hybrid was permitted to learn to take up arms once again. It was quickly discovered that he had an affinity for using the spear, believed to be inherited from Kaladin due to the soldier’s infamous use of the weapon type. Kalan was trained by various teachers over the years, spending time with higher ranked military soldiers when the chance came for the ephors who ruled **Atharae** desired him to be trained by the best.

Kalan eventually reached a more rebellious stage within his teenage years. The child of man and phoenix discovered the fun of sarcasm and snide remarks in formal settings where he was meant to be conducting his duties. Many could not say anything back to him without looking insulting to someone of his status - though the priests did chastise him behind closed doors and demanded he act more like the demi-god they believed his kind to be.

It did little to deter him.

His mouth wasn’t the only thing to runaway - Kalan would sneak out when chance permitted him to try, covered up to hide his phoenix features. He’d explore the city, interact with the locals and look for any respite away from his usual day in day out duties.

Through his explorations, Kalan came to see various sides to the city and to its people. Mostly he had grown up so far seeing only those outside of the higher social status as guests to the temples. Those he saw outside of it going about their days were still residents of the better quarters.

Yet Kalan saw the outskirts where life was less fruitful and less wealthy. Those who worked long hours merely to get their family by. Even those who worked those hours and it still was not enough. Where buildings and streets were less tended to the further out he went, the harder living seemed to be for residents. Visiting the slums which had apparently grown in mass due to the wars surrounding Atharae was what eventually humbled Kalan out.

The Imitheous’ attitude towards the higher ups continued and Kalan kept secretly escaping into the city. He was caught a few times, sometimes preventing him from going and other times discovered too late to stop him but enough to scold him and threaten to have him watched. Which eventually came to be.

Provided with an “honour guard”, Kalan was eventually given free reign to explore any part of the city during his free time so long as his soldiers accompanied him. This allowance was also used as leverage to try and have Kalan take his political lessons and duties more seriously, an attempt to coax a more serious and demi-godly nature from him. It worked - mostly.

As he matured, Kalan showed a better side of himself and began to fit into his role of a higher being for the people to worship. Not only had his personality grown, but his body too. His wings were decided to be in their ripe-fullness, his aether rich. Kalan’s newest duty was to provide those in dire need with healing from either his phoenix feathers or blood. Kalan had struggled to use his raw flames for healing magic, the fire more on the destructive side, as well as he had learnt to wield it. So his more limited properties were relied upon.

However, not just anyone was welcome to receive such aid from the phoenix hybrid. Because Kalan’s feathers do not grow back as easily as common birds nor does he moult or lose feathers easily, they were reserved for those deemed worthy by the ephors and sometimes the king. Plucking is a painful process and more often than not will draw blood due to how embedded the quills are. During the times his feathers were taken, blood wasn’t wasted either and collected as best as possible if there was enough that they were able to do so. Therefore when Kalan did bleed, the wounds weren’t tended to straight away. Even through other injuries. His blood (which runs very hot) has stronger healing abilities than his feathers and so was treasured more, only given to those in dire need. Feathers were monitored, never to be freely roamed and taken out of sight. The few instances one went missing, they sold for high prices on the black markets.

Feather size would be chosen to match the situation; smaller plumes for lesser needs and larger ones for those greater. The energy within them would gradually radiate out to heal as well as soothe the recipient. The aether within would automatically react to damage and illness and thus were highly sought and desired by those who would be more prone to or exposed to dangers. High ranking soldiers and leaders would sometimes be granted one to wear like a talisman when they joined the war efforts, or high end doctors given one when entering diseased areas. Some would be given them while they were already in need, wearing the feather as they either rested or went about daily life. Feathers were to be returned when they were finished with, as became a rule produced by the ephors to ensure none were being misused or passed to undesired hands.

Blood was to be applied directly to external wounds or to be consumed for internal illness, where it was fast acting and would imbue the user with a temporary influx of rich health. Because of this, it was discovered that people could become addicted to it - **King Pedaeus** being someone who did.

Kalan lived in Atharae, a country surrounded by war on and off as outsiders sought the lands resources but also saw it as a threat. Atharae was home to many great warriors, some provinces entirely made up of those trained to fight but living normal lives, both on land and sea. They also had the Imetheous on top of that.

King Pedaeus fought on battlefields himself and would seek for Kalan’s healing when necessary. There came a time when he was critically injured, internal bleeding dooming him that medics of his world did not have the skill to tend to. Kalan was rushed to the encampment where Pedaeus’ greed for the phoenix’s power shone brightly through his determination not to die. Despite Kalan and his priestess’s protests, the king had his soldiers pin the Imetheous to tear out a number of his feathers and harvest his blood. The ordeal was excruciating for Kalan and traumatising. Never before had he been in so much pain or had his people turn on him, treating him like so. He’d always began to believe he was merely an object of reverence to them - a living shrine of a dead man who all expected him to live up to. But from that point on, he saw himself as no better than cattle for the people who used him for his magic. How little he knew he was right (until recently when arriving to Yggdrasil’s Realm) for his fire would have become an instrument to them too, along with his skill with the spear.

It took years for Kalan’s wings to fully recover in which the offerings of his feathers were restricted but not entirely off limits. His blood became more available in their stead and Kalan grew to fear hearings and proceedings where parts of him were to be given away. The pain became more than physical with each pluck and drawing. He was well aware of the mass of physical scars that were concealed by regrowing plumage - even his powers never removing them completely - yet there were mental and emotional ones too. Kalan developed a strange balance with how he felt about his healing. He became possessive, desiring to never hand pieces of himself away again and grew bitter having to do so. Yet at the same time… he desired to expand upon it. Why should those who were deemed worthy by the ephors be the only ones to have access? He’d seen life in the city and outside it even on his travels. He’d seen how much some suffered that he could do something about.

And he tried.

But they paid the price for it. When it was reported back that Kalan was “giving away” his feathers, no matter how small, guards were sent to retrieve them and to ensure they didn’t miss any, overturned homes and small volunteer practices to check. Kalan felt responsible for ruining the places, scaring people and having them attacked. It made him feel worse.

The phoenix fell into a state of depression, his escapades out into the city stopping. He remained inside the temple unless business summoned him elsewhere having seen people quickly excuse themselves away from him in the places he once visited and loved interacting within. He came to think that it was better that the people had little to do with him.

Time went on and although the hybrid did begin to venture out once more, he was different. Kalan kept everyone at an emotional distance, perhaps conforming to his role too well. Rebelliousness returned but differently so - he acted smug and arrogant, and why not? It was the perfect way to fit in with most of those he dealt with. And he knew it kept him appearing strong in a world where the weak were eaten alive - and Kalan refused to be torn apart again.

The phoenix developed a more suave personality, charming people just as much as he could insult them without even needing to be direct. Hormones developed and already of age, he went outside of the courtesans he was permitted to lie with. Kalan once more snuck out, finding fun in the sheets (and other places…) with common folk. Sometimes even city senators (or visiting vips) relatives - an amusing way to irritate some of them, he discovered.

To try and keep him occupied, Kalan was given more training lessons as well as introduced to the spotlight more. Throughout his years, Kalan had been put on stage and had been taught to dance for formal events and festivities. Those around him realised he loved it and so gave him more reasons to perform - assigning him to more than dancing and signing. Kalan became to act, performing in plays. He found a passion there too for it was an escape. He could be someone else - anyone else. And he absolutely fell in love with that.

The festival he adored most was the Festival of the Gods. A yearly celebration where Imetheous from all over the country would gather in the capital city. Kalan got to see so many others like himself, though he had little opportunity to interact with them as was the case with all like him. So many outsiders would attend and he got to show off for them and bring them joy. Even though it was a stressful time for his kind and very busy, it made Kalan feel useful and so he thrived during the stretch of the celebration.

It was towards the end of the latest Festival of the Gods, where Kalan had been relaxing at a closed party, that he found himself suddenly descending into darkness - and awakening within it, only an illuminated stained glass floor lighting his immediate vicinity. Scared and alarmed voices rang out around him which he’d soon discover where others that had suddenly been pulled into the strange space with him. No one he knew. No one from his country - no one from his world. His own fear was awakened by living roots that tried to impale them and a strange being of only visible eyes floating in the void that touched his face…

Little did he know at the time he was being pulled into a new realm where a new life would await him, hard times and good times, Trials of life and death, his first true friendships and a burning love he never thought he would experience.