Chaos: Genesis

Spero arrives back at his home in the Kingdom of Anshan, he walks through the town square, which is packed with citizens, merchants, and food stands. Spero notices a child looking in his direction. The boy's mother grabs him close and shields his face.

"Don't look at him! Stay away from us, you filthy Daeva!" She ushers the boy away, glancing back to make sure Spero didn't follow.

With a heavy sigh, he continues walking through the square. A man glances at him, witnessing the commotion, he sees Spero trailing off and decides to follow.

* * *

A merchant is sitting by a table full of treasures and goods, propping his head up on his palm, fighting sleep. His black hair is tied up and messy frails stick out on all sides of his head. His eyes begin to close when suddenly,

CLANK!

He wakes up in a panic and sees a bloody, battered helmet lying in front of him. "What the hell, Spero?! You've soiled my merchandise!"

Spero laughs. "Deliver this to the king, will you, Ramin?"

"I'm not your personal courier," Ramin replies in annoyance.

"I keep the true origin of your 'relics' to myself, so you will continue to assist me." Spero turns away.

Just as Ramin was about to reply, a black-bearded man bursts into the shop. "Brother, I'm glad you're back. You look a mess!"

Spero looks down at his body. His arms and legs are covered in cuts and bruises, and his clothes are stained with orc blood. "Escaping a whole army is not an easy feat, Cyrus."

"Well, get cleaned up. Father's speech will begin momentarily."

Spero waves goodbye to Ramin and departs with his brother.

* * *

On the balcony attached to the throne room, King Cambyses I stands in front of Cyrus and Spero. He stiffly adjusts his crown and glances down into the plaza below.

"Citizens of Anshan, we are one step closer to expanding our nation. Claiming territory in Aria will not be easy, but we have pushed back the orcs long enough. Our army has planned a direct assault against those barbaric beasts. As Divinians, we must keep our race alive and prosperous. Our resistance to magic makes us the perfect counter to other races, even the elves envy our everlasting youth, and our cunningness combats the humans' mindset. We are Divinians; the gods have blessed us and deemed us the divine race. We will remind the Arian orcs that they made a grave mistake threatening our people, our kingdom... For Anshan!"

The crowd cheers and whistles. "For Anshan! For Anshan! For Anshan!"

After the speech, Spero and Cyrus walk to their favorite hilltop overlooking the kingdom.

"Once we take half of the Arian territory, we'll become lords," Cyrus says, sitting on a large stone.

Spero sits next to Cyrus and eyes him begrudgingly. "You will become a lord."

"Our father... My father sees you as part of our family. He may not show it, but he does. Ever since we took you in, our family has never been better. My relationship with my birth parents has improved, and you are never excluded from any family meeting or event. He knows that you are valuable to our kingdom. The people see that you have importance."

"Yeah, right. I've lived here for over a century, yet I'm still seen as an outsider."

Cyrus places his hand on Spero's shoulder. "Is this about the mother and her boy?"

Spero looks away. "I'm used to it."

"Our people have a deep history with the Daevas. Your presence reminds them of that dark past, but you shouldn't let their judgment define you."

"Easier said than done. It'll probably take another century for the people to even acknowledge me."

Cyrus stands and proclaims to Spero, "As my brother and the prince of the Anshan, I will convince the people to respect you, acknowledge you, and see you as a part of the royal family. It may take some time—decades, even—but I won't rest until they do."

Proudly, he puts a fist in the air and stands tall. Spero laughs and Cyrus, a little embarrassed, joins in.

"You and your kingly speeches. There's no denying you're the son of royalty."

Cyrus nudges Spero. "As fun as this is, I should get going. We have an important meeting tomorrow, so get some rest. See you, brother."

As Cyrus walks back down the hill, Spero looks at the setting sun and senses a disturbance.

"What do you want now, Astral?"

A young man appears, with glowing, icy-blue hair, and illuminated symbols on both sides of his face. "I'm just checking up on you."

"I know the real reason you're here," Spero snaps. "You don't have to lie." He stands up and backs away. "I don't need you spying on me every second or reminding me about my abilities. I know the repercussions."

Astral walks towards him. "The dark energy... You used it quite excessively today. I can feel it growing."

"If I hadn't, I'd be dead. There are times when it's appropriate, but you know better than anyone how much I hold back."

"You're right... I apologize. Your father did ask me to help."

Spero glares at him. "Sure, my father asked."

Astral notices that he crossed a line. He receives an alert in the form of a magic rune. "I must go. Trinity is requesting my presence."

Spero stares at Astral. "Tell your parents and the others to leave me be."

Astral nods and teleports away.

* * *

Astral appears in the Divine Realm which hosts all deities. He appears in front of the Trinity, the top three deities. Evaline, the Spirit of Life; Azrael, the Angel of Death; and Chronos, the Timekeeper.

"How was the visit with your... friend, son?" Azrael states.

"Leave him alone, dear. Their friendship is important to our mission," Evaline says.

Astral shrugs it off.

Chronos steps forward. "Astral, as the Protector of the Eight Realms, you have the most important part in this. All three of you have your assigned tasks and keep monitoring for potential allies and threats. The timeline must not repeat."

The deities all pin their attention on the Timekeeper. He looks into his shards of potential futures, a 4-dimensional mosaic sculpture, each shard gleams like a mirror and reflects a part of the past, present, and future.

"The history of this timeline is unclear, but we will not let these worlds be destroyed again."