Brotherhood: Phase ONE

Prologue : The Nights Before

Long ago, in a world built by magic and blood, there lived a clan of assassins who named themselves the Tsukikage; a name that they chose as they acted mainly in the shadows, using only the light of the moon to carry out their missions. They were ruthless and bloodthirsty, and they used their skills to slaughter anyone who opposed them. They had quickly become a tyrannical clan of killers who sought to dominate the world with their talents in the dark arts. However, their reign of terror was challenged by the Althea Empire, the most mighty and glorious kingdom in the world, and they had soon waged a fierce war against them. Althea came out victorious, and had almost wiped out the Tsukikage clan entirely, sparing only a few of them. They forced them to serve as their military and protection, and they kept a close watch on them. Over time, the Tsukikage clan changed their ways, and in addition to helping turn the Althea military into one of the most feared in the world, they had also been a leading hand in developing advanced scientific methods that still benefit the world today. They would serve the growing kingdom for nearly fifty years before fate would once again try to exterminate them.

The last true leader of the Tsukikage clan was a brilliant and ambitious man named Hikaru, who had founded the TsukiCorp Science department in the town of Old Jericho, a place he named after his eldest son and partner in business. He was fascinated by the mysteries of life and death, and he conducted many experiments with foreign blood samples that he had obtained from a secret expedition. As a result of his tampering, his younger children were born with extraordinary abilities in the elements of Thunder, Fire, and Wind. His firstborn, Jericho, did not inherit any of these powers, as he was experimented on as a child. He was still gifted with remarkable skills in combat and survival, becoming a local hero as he climbed the rankings in the military. He was a loyal and brave son who sacrificed his life to defend Althea in the last Great War, leading his first mission as captain.

The death of Jericho, along with the passing of their mother at the birth of his youngest son, had shattered the father's sanity and drove him to alcoholism and violence. He became an abusive monster towards his surviving children; the twin brothers Akira and Nguyen, the middle child Kasai, and the youngest, Suna. One fateful night, he lost his temper and attacked Suna, who was only a child. Kasai, who loved his younger brother more than anything, intervened and fought back, and in the heat of the moment, he accidently killed his father with the katana of his late brother Jericho.

Realizing what he had done, he begged Nguyen to take their youngest brother and run to the old mansion that had once served as the clan's hall. Attaching the sheath of the sword to his back, he then began to set fire to the family's home, hoping to erase the evidence of his crime. As Kasai ran away, Akira was left behind, alone and confused. He had to witness the horror of his father's death and his home's destruction, and with no idea where his brothers had gone, he had been abandoned and betrayed by everyone he loved. Although he was left on his own, Akira was also the sole claim to his clan's fortunes, and was raised in an orphanage in Old Jericho until he was of age to claim his inheritance. Akira took the money and abandoned his father's town, only coming back once a year to mourn his eldest brother Jericho at the docks where he had once saved his life, staring into the water until the sun had set, and leaving in the moon's light.

Years passed, and he became tormented by dark visions of his father and his brother Jericho, who he had only vague memories of, but felt a strong connection to after Jericho had saved him from drowning as a child. In his isolation, he became obsessed with finding a way to end his suffering and to reunite with his lost brother. He searched for forbidden methods, such as necromancy and soul manipulation, but these only made his visions worse and his dreams more haunted by the familiar voice of a loved one. . .

A young man lay sprawled on the cold stone floor of a seemingly endless and incredibly eerie cave. He had long hair that was cut in a razor style and dyed a graying blue. He had piercings lining his ears, nose, and a pair of snake bites, one of which had been ripped out. He wore a tattered purple v-neck shirt and a battered brown leather jacket over a pair of dirty blue jeans and a muddy pair of combat boots. He was covered in blood and dirt, some of his own, and some of an unknown origin. He tried desperately to push himself up, his limbs weak and injured. He looked at his hands and noticed they had been bleeding from wounds in his palms.

"Where. . . where am I?" He gasped, trying not to stumble as he finally managed to stand up. He looked around his surroundings; the caves seemed to stretch on forever, and the paths all looked intertwined. His concentration was broken by a loud inhuman screech that echoed throughout the caves and eventually produced a faint purple light that shone through one of the many pathways. He felt around the ground to see if he had managed to bring a knife or sword with him but found nothing. He began to carefully tread down the path and move closer and closer towards the light. He was suddenly grabbed by an unknown force, being twisted and tossed through reality before being spat onto a hard stone floor. As he regained consciousness, he slowly pushed himself up to the horrific view of the lifeless bodies belonging to his two younger brothers. He looked frantically around the place, realizing that it was some sort of courtyard, with tall black pillars and purple flags draped throughout the halls. He tried to calm himself as he crawled his way past his brothers, trying his best not to look at either of them as he did. But he couldn't help but reach out and touch their faces, hoping to feel some warmth or life in them. He felt nothing but cold and stiff skin.

"No," he cried as he tried to push himself up. "This isn't. . .this can't be real! This isn't real," he sobbed, collapsing on the ground again. As he wiped his eyes, he looked up to see the back of a rather tall man with long flowing black hair wrapped completely in stained bandages, wearing a tattered purple cloak over them."Please. . . who are you," he begged, trying to push himself up again. "Are you. . .no. . . can you be. . . him? . . . Jericho?"

His vision started to fade to black as the room around him crumbled into darkness, each piece taking a chunk of the floor away with it as it fell.

"No. . . please. . .don't go. . . this time. . . I want to be. . .the one that saves you. . ."

"Fucking hell!" Akira screamed a final time as he shot up, falling out of his bed and scrambling around on his floor. He was hyperventilating as he patted himself, checking and making sure he wasn't still covered in blood and cuts. He stared at his palms, where he could faintly still feel the wounds but couldn't see anything. He was perfectly fine.

"That dream. . . there's no way. . . was that just a dream? It was so real. . . No, there's no way it wasn't. It had to have been. . . Is this because of the book I found? There's no way. Could this book have been. . . I need to find Suna, if anyone could crack this it would be him. But if this is all true, then that scroll I got. . . Maybe I need more firepower than just Suna," he spoke to himself as he took a deep breath. He looked at the scroll that was lying on his nightstand, next to the journal. It was a parchment with strange symbols and drawings on it that he had found in Old Jericho, the town where he was born and where his family's home had burned down.

He had been visiting the ruins, looking for memories of his late brother Jericho, when a hooded figure had dropped the scroll near him. He had chased after them, but he had lost them in the crowd of people. He took the scroll, hoping to find some answers, but within it, he had only found more questions. He had no idea how authentic this scroll was or why it was given to him, but he knew all too well the stories of the Shinigami. He had taken it with him, along with the journal that he had found in the ruins of his father's lab. The book was written in what seemed to be several strange languages, judging by the different handwriting it was written by a few different people. Akira had felt a strange connection to the book and to his brother, and he had decided to keep it with him, hoping to learn more about it.

"The last time I checked, Kasai was staying in Hotari, and I have to pass through there on the way to Kazekiri anyway. That and, I'm not too sure where Kazekiri is. . . I might be able to find Kasai and talk him into helping me. But I'm not sure when the last time I saw him was. Hell, it might have been right after the fire. . ." With a swift motion, Akira sheathed his rusted katana that sat in the corner of his room and secured it onto his back. He looked over the scroll and journal before swiping them off of his dresser and cramming them into a satchel; along with various items and blades. He clasped a crystal pendant around his neck, a precious gift from Kasai in their childhood days. He slung the satchel over his shoulder and set off to the town south of his flat, oblivious to the nightmares that awaited him.