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Atash Kedah Monogatari - Lament of the Damned

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Prologue / Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5 / Epilogue


“What is it that you seek?” Said the voice, a womanly and sinister voice of the shadow that slithered past his sight. There was no end to her restlessness.
“I seek to protect them.”
“But what is it that you really seek?”
Falco twitched in astonishment as the question hit him hard. The demon was right; what was he trying to prove by lying to himself? Heroic deeds befit only those who’s lives are run by petty ideals. And she saw it in his heart. Saw his lust for...
“And power demands sacrifice,” the shadow hissed. “Are you sure, the cherub blessed with all that is good, to wager anything and everything for something you may not need?”
“Power is beautiful,” an honest smile played on his face. “No matter what price it demands, I have fallen in love with its magnificence.”


No matter how busy I am I still can’t help myself when it comes to Dream Splash! I’m writing this on Friday (my day-off) and Saturday in my spare time, so critique me to your heart’s content, because this’ll be fast. I was going to accompany this with some art, but unfortunately my tablet had an accident.

Before I begin, allow me to explain what Atash Kedah is and what it signifies. When Crimson Echoes showed its face to the world it was a candle that burned bright of fandom dream before extinguishing and leaving a trail, an example to follow through. Many of us at the Compendium and beyond congregated, collaborating with all the artistic and technical talent we could muster to finish wrapping up the loose ends left by CE, inspired by its ambitious and lovable story. Why? Because a lot of the story remained untold, and the very story and mysteries of the Chrono Universe was what brought us together in the first place.

The Chrono Universe is vast, its stories stretching and connecting individuals from every era since the dawn of time to the future that awaits. Each fan contribution expands it further, revealing intricacies that touch beyond its canon limits. But a chosen few individuals worked together to make sense of every story left behind, creating baffling revelations and writing new adventures, of heroes we lost, of heroes we’ve never heard of. Storytelling was a big part of our inspiration and lives, and the project turned into, as FaustWolf mentioned, Angelus Errare: Heroes Unsung. Story and art became the stars, and we became the Radical Dreamers who sought to pluck them right out of the sky.

And the experience paid off, not only for the project we worked on but also through maturity of skill and thinking; some of us improved in art, some became excellent writers, some were so inspired they wanted to make an original, breath-taking story! Constant debates and brainstorms later we found ourselves with a treasuretrove of knowledge and inspiration to work with, and the Chrono universe developed a culture so diverse and realistic that it may as well become an example to our daily lives (in fact, we even mapped together a possible culture, races, dialects, religion and way of life of the Mystics, which combined with FaustWolf’s initial ideas, became Fleabane from last year’s Dream Splash; mind you, that was only the beginning).

And that was when I realized that we had everything but one factor in mind: we’ve seen the rise and fall of Guardia, and the fall of Zeal itself, but what about its rise? My mind went all of the place, and if only for a little while I went on a personal journey through my own thought process, pondering what the Pre-Antiquity might have been like. I took what I knew with me, and by the time I had returned I had become Enlightened, holding a story so epic, that you might find yourself growing chest hairs, tattooing your brain or even setting your soul on fire. And the Lord and Savior, Sir Crono, asked me to carve them down on stone tablets using nothing but my nails.

Haha, just kidding! He didn’t ask me, he commanded me. But the story was too vast to be written as an Old Testament, let alone stone tablets! So vast that the story could challenge the vastness of all of Chronoverse itself! Yes, it was the story after Lavos fell to earth and before he rise of Zeal, a story of dreams, intelligence and magic blooming in barren lands, a story of trust and betrayal, of hope and destiny, of the most badass grandparents anyone can ever have and a Magii War (equivalent to WWII) that shook the planet. The viewpoint characters were many, and there were no specific heroes and villains; just characters fighting for their dreams and standing proud, facing death that lurked in every corner.

And this was Atash Kedah, the war that brought hell along with it, the time where it only took a moment out in the battleground to shatter those dreams you held dear, and not a single soul was spared; all in the name of the greater good. It was the war that makes Mystic Wars look like a school-fight.


And now to the Dream Splash. What I am about to submit here is but a fragment of Atash Kedah, which also relates to a forgotten character from Radical Dreamers: Lilith, the Shadow Huntress. Yes, she is far more than what meets the eye. I did take many ideas from older legends and mythology. Here I describe the origins of Lilith and why she is what she is. After this, here continuity lies in Fleabane - Moonlight Reckoning, and soon after in... something, until it finally reaches the events of Radical Dreamers, the ultimate epilogue and final closing chapter to her adventures.

So yeah, enjoy!  :D


Seriously, enjoy! Dammit!   :roll:

Prologue: Evolution

Cue track - Tower of Bad Dreams (Blue Magic)

‘Twas a time of omen when the children of cold blood fell to the might of a woman, who challenged them against all odds. She was the epitome of strength, courage, and -- above all else -- mercy. She was the prayer of the lands that sang the joys of livelihood, and she was the dream that awakened the hearts when the red fire burned the skies.

She was their Goddess. But with every light that captured hearts, she also awakened the darkness that lay dormant within them, those wicked shadows she fought her entire life. Her very nightmares.

The skies burned with crimson hue, and clouds dissipated as if in fear as the fire drew closer; the fellow tribesmen ran for their lives, ran for their safety and fell in prayer. They left their stock, abandoned their huts, hid inside caves, and a few among them faced the heavens still, for whether or not the end drew closer they would at least not die as cowards. And impact happened: a deafening sound shattered many eardrums, a quake that tore the earth asunder, lightning warning that the end was night, and the ocean flooded with turbulent wrath. Someone, or something, was not pleased with them.

The adventurers among them came to the burning crater to witness what fell from the skies -- but it was not there! They searched, and searched, but the found nothing but broken debris and ashes of destroyed lands and forests. What they witnessed here was, what they considered to be, magic. There was no reason for the sky to be angry with them, and yet here it was, throwing fire at them.

And it was then that two tribesmen found something -- a broken shell left by something that fell from the skies. But the shell was alive. What they saw before them was not a mere shell or animal, but a jewel that burned in crimson, like a flame that was frozen in time. And it beckoned to them.

And they touched the Flame, and all was light. It showed them things they never saw, and gave them the confidence, the desires they never had. Their mere gait set the barren cave abloom, and their voices called for a destiny they desired. ‘Twas then that the first tribesman dreamed to share this magical blessing with the world.

While the other dreamed to keep this blessing for himself.

Slowly he lifted his hand towards his friend, and in a tone that knew no remorse, commanded:

“Burn away from my sight.”


Part 1 - The Whisperer


Cue track - A Warrior’s Path (OCRemix)

The Frozen Flame sat on the pedestal and watched bloodshed and carnage before him, for he knew it was to pass. But not too soon. Began a game of survival, each tribe for their own, warring to acquire the jewel either for superiority or for their own survival, that very jewel that turned them against each other. Brothers armed against brother, with trust naught in sight. It was the flame that gave them magic, that made dreams come true, that helped them shape destiny on their own accord. If there was ever was anything of value it was not life of another, but the flame that brought them light.

And in that war were many slain, as Phoebe wept for the loss, as bodies fell from the skies either burned or in frozen death. She wept for her beloved, she wept for her enemies, she wept for the damned that fell to the Flame’s greed, and she wept for the damned who could not escape the Flame’s children.

On that night in the frozen desert of Araknos, before the shadows emerged again to claim her soul, she grasped the jaded candle, grasped her destiny with a shaken hand and called out the shadows from the abyss.

“In worth of petty dignity and blood, with silver knife I carve thy name in stone: Erzes! Show thyself and liberate me!”

“Who are you of petty dignity to call me by my name?” Said the voice of the demon, echoing in turbulent winds.

“Thee the deceiver, thee the tempter, Erzes, shall have no power over me, thy mistress Phoebe,” she commanded. “Lest thee suffer pain in eternal flames, obey my commands. Fly me away before dawn, before the Elementals return, and protect me with thy very essence.”

Hesitantly the demon subdued to his mistress’ insufferable charge.

“And every power,” Erzes mentioned, “demands a sacrifice.”

“And sacrifice I shall.”

The demon chuckled in its most sinister tone and its shadow grew wings wider than a Griffin’s.

“Hop on, my arrogant, full-of-thyself mistress -- oww! You didn’t have to hit me with that bolt!”



The war raged and brought civilizations to their knees, and the planet grew ever so colder as ashes of the departed scattered across the sky, devouring every ray of light, eating away all hope. To the heroes, to the victims, to the Messiahs, to all that was lost and to all that was to create, to all that grasped onto a single prayer, what awaited them was but a shadow of despair. The only clans to survive were the superior five: Zeal, Edehna, Araknos, Shikari and El Grande; with fear in their hearts and sorrow darkening their minds, dreams became meaningless, for if only those that lived beyond the whispers of the Flame felt the need to spend a precious moment in tranquility.

And the prayers and cries were heard by brothers two of the powerful clan Edehna. Nodamus the Wise King, and Adamus the Cunning; with the might of Gods they tore through the army of Araknos, as Dragons and Beasts fell to their demise. And to the King they flew with the promise to end the war of ages, with a dream to stand victorious.

“My life lay in your hands, and all my secrets and faith I lay unto you,” said Nodamus as he flew on his Griffin, dodging the venom of a Basilisk.

And the Basilisk fell into pieces with a single wave of Adamus’ sword.

“And I shall not let you down, my Lord and Brother,” said Adamus.

“Nor I, my darling,” said Queen Abbyzou, riding on her Pegasus.

The three took on the King of Araknos, the keeper of the Flames, who swore to the deepest abyss that doom was nigh, but his trickery had no effect, for no doom nor uncertainty would faze their valiance. And stepped forth Nodamus to claim his prize, that very flame frozen in time, and touched it.

And he saw things that he never would dream of: There he was, blind and solemn, with all of the frozen world seeking sanctuary before him, and came his brother with malice in his heart and slew him like a dog where he stood.

“And as you see shall happen,” said the wretched whisperer. “But the beholder of the flame is also the beholder of truth and destiny. You have the power to change your own fate.”

And the King asked his brother once again.

“My life in your hands, and the glory of Edehna in my trust.”

“And your faith in me,” said Adamus with an honest smile, “is my very soul.”

“The liar’s soul is worth naught a penny,” the whisperer spoke.

“And the liar is you!” Said Nodamus to the Flame in rage. “Liar is you, the wicked is you. You are the tempter, the deceiver, the evil whisperer in the heart’s of the innocent.”

“And they desired, so I giveth,” the Flame continued.

“And become the source of all misery. But enough! This flame shall never see the light of day ever again. You shall tempt and lie never again.”

“Sealing me away shall accomplish nothing, for the truest demon runs in your blood, seeking liberation. So long as humans breathe your horrors shall never end. You can change your fate, but you do not wish to. You shall regret -- ”

“-- No more.”

With complex waves of his form and the power of his spells, to everyone’s surprise Nodamus sealed the flame within an impenetrable prism, and he stood over the castle’s balcony where the armies of Zeal and Shikari approached and announced:

“This day Edehna has proven its power over the wretched whisperer, the Frozen Flame, and stands victorious before the world. The nightmare has ended, and I wish no more blood, no more enmity.”



Cue track - Tower of Nightmares (Blue Magic)

Peace was found, but the bitterness of the cold did not fade. Rivers froze and lands covered themselves with a blanket white. The commoners and the Earthbound breathed in relief, but the the extremists’ dream of conquest was not forgotten. Yet ‘twas wise to keep your desires to yourself lest you become an enemy of false peace, which was peace nonetheless; a house made of fragile glass.

Stood King Nodamus in the deepest chambers of Edehna where the Flame lay hidden, trapped in the strongest prism he could conjure. ‘Twas temporary, if only until he could find a way to send it to the darkest chasm where not a soul may find. The FF did not belong here.

Sin and sorrow were not forgotten. Nor were the words of the Frozen Flame.

...for the truest demon runs in your blood, seeking liberation. So long as humans breathe your horrors shall never end...

The doors behind him opened, and in walked Adamus with charming grace, smiling to his Lord and brother.

“Adamus,” said Nodamus in hope, “my dear, faithful Adamus; you have been by my side in many a strife that my gratefulness knows no bounds. My life in your hands, and the glory of Edehna in my trust.”

“And your faith in me,” said Adamus with an honest smile, “is but a foolish dependence.”

A shadow emerged from Adamus’ feet and took the form of a Gargoyle; with a beat of its wings it attacked with elements, wind and fire alike. With swiftness of his spells Nodamus conjured a barrier that withstood the mightiest storms, but the barrier broke like stained glass and a spear struck his torso.

“...silver... spear...” The dying King gasped.

“Your prized possession!” Adamus exclaimed. “He who lives like a coward deserves no prizes.”

Blood spilt and tainted the snow, and the prism shattered with the King’s dying breath. ‘Twas the final bloom of the flowers afar, for the rain hath no promise but the sky bleeding crimson.

(To be continued...)

Part 2 - Fallen Angel


Cue track - Words Better Left Unspoken

The land grew unbearably colder still and the lakes froze rigid, a blockade yielding no morsel. Falls ceased their flow mid-way and starvation plagued the very children the land whilst nature betrayed her own kind in neglect. The fiery wrath vanquished, but heart was cold, for the hollow -- the wretched emptiness -- refused to yield a single flower of hope. All was gone and dead, all sentiments, everything one held close, buried in the white blanket that marked as their tomb.

But what they wanted most in this blinding white was but a color. A taint of crimson.

‘Twas six years before when she flew from Araknos’ frozen, barren deserts, in the hope of escaping the shadows of her monarch and her enemies alike, but the cold followed her to every corner of the planet. And she swore her allegiance to Zeal Clan, though the tragedy of her lost taken by the very hand she served. Further more she dared breach the horizon itself, more she tested the waters and played with fire, and even more so she endangered herself in the pits of darkness, but her fear was dead the very moment she summoned the demon Foliot.

And to a forlorn cave they approached. The creature landed with the wings of shade, vanishing into remnant echoes of the damned that emanated from the hollow.

“Go if you must,” Erzes apprised. “But these echoes are not winds alone, but the forgotten screams and cries of the damned, condemned to lament their sorrow. A gallow off all the broken memories and dreams rest in its confines, of all the scarred hearts and hollow souls, you will be lost in its bitter and blind emptiness and never see light.”

“And I never have,” said Phoebe with a sorrowful tone, then without another word, stepped into the emptiness.

And all the while the shadows of broken dreams stalked until she reached the threshold. With a deafening scream, they lept.



The Smith made me something, my Lord. He calls it a Scythe.

Oh? And what is it meant for?

Hehe, your Highness knows when spring arrives we will have to deal with the excess grass at the Royal Gardens. I shall reap them for you, so your feet would have no trouble.

The reverie shattered, its fragments falling into the emptiness of the void, but the screams never faded; the shadows veiled her eyes from reality itself.

Waken, she screamed to herself in futility as no sound escaped her lips.

And the shadows formed into images in her mind. Broken shards of past memories. And it hurt her, cutting her mind like a sharp knife on flesh.

And there, in a majestic palace stood a King, looking down upon his new slave.

“Why, Adamus,” said the woman. “Why must you kill your own brother, your very own blood?”

“That man, Abbyzou,” said the King, “was but a poltroon, fearing to wield God’s gift, a traitor to his own nation.”

“He trusted you! He tried to bring an end to this war, and to all misery!”

The King laughed. “What have the two of you been deluding yourselves into? Misery has always been there, even before we knew of the Flame, and wars were always waged. The Flame is not a monster Abbyzou, it only taught you how to dream, and dream well. No, a true monster is he who either runs from its light, or uses it to burn civilizations and laughing at the screams. A true monster is within the heart, always seeking to escape. A true monster loves power over others, doing its best to become the Almighty, with sanity only a distant memory. A true monster... is me!”

And he took a step towards the former queen.

“Bow to me.”

But the woman stepped back in fear, closer to the window.

“Praise me,” Adamus stepped forth. “Love thy King.”

But he woman paid no heed, backing towards the window.

“Abbyzou, bow to me. WORSHIP ME!”

With a final scream he lunged with his spear, but the lady jumped from the window deep into the ravines. A whistle, a flutter of wings, and off the lady flew on a Pegasus, away from her beloved Kingdom that was once her home. But Adamus knew better; a single wish to the Flame gave him wings of angelic flare, whiter than snow, and he chased. Spells fired across, towards the lady and towards the King, fire breaking past the winds. With a single breath Abbyzou drew, lightning blasted from her finger tips, but the King remained unharmed. Then she built walls of ice, stronger that hardest diamonds, yet broken by her pursuer. Flames emerged from the Kings palm as he fired a bolt towards the Pegasus’ wings; it burned, charred its flesh, invoking screams of agony. The former Queen fell into the unfamiliar winds.

Waken, Phoebe screamed. But her lips refused yield sound.

And the dream faded once again, but voices were still heard.

Where art thou, Lady Abbyzou? I have searched continents for you. Please come back to the Palace. Don’t make me burn them.



Abbyzou, return to your King. Your children await you. They bleed, Abbyzou. Everyday one of them drops dead.

But... I cannot. I am trapped in a continent of endless horizon. I cannot... fly...


And with that, the nightmare fled with veils afloat, shimmer poured in sight.  



Awakened the witch in a brawl and freed herself from the wicked snare, though curses and spells failed to emerge from her palms as the voracious cave devoured all light. Shadows lunged like beasts of the night to the damsel’s dismay and fright, and withdrew she from a robe a mere chalk and drew a circle on the platform she stood, with mystical runes and signs within.

“Shadow Dome, emerge!” She screamed, and thus soon surrounded be an aura of black light.

And the shadows could not enter. They could not reach her, for every attack upon her was countered with an opposite element. And she tamed the beasts of the night with binds of unbreakable streaks of flare.

These memories are not yet forgotten, Phoebe wagered. The woman is beyond saving, past beyond the borders of death, but I can still save her spirit.

She ensnared the shadows with a spell or two with words and binds of grand arcana, knowing the fragments of shattered souls were but concentrated emotions of a being long gone. The creatures had no name, no thought, no intelligence; thus fused in the form akin to they once were, unborn and unnamed.

“The misery and malice that haunt this cave,” beckoned Phoebe, “you hold your form upon my order; and your name by my will be, Lilith, of the Shadows.”

And the shadows formed a fair humanoid complexion, lost in an eternal sorrow that knew no more.

“I am... Lilith,” said the feminine, pitiful demon. “My mistress.”

“What is your past?”

“I do not know, my mistress...” the demon murmured in sorrowful tone.

“What are your desires, your dreams?”

“I seek... to reap the green from the earth... for...”

“For whom?”

Hesitantly she pondered why, but the identities, those memories remained forgotten.

And she bowed. “For you, my mistress.”


There are some really great lines here, tushantin.

This one in particular stands out:  "Yet ‘twas wise to keep your desires to yourself lest you become an enemy of false peace, which was peace nonetheless; a house made of fragile glass."

I have to ask.  Is this line original?  If so, you have a real gift.  :wink:

I second Lennis on that quote. That be a moment of brilliance right there, that be. Can't wait to actually read through this.


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