Daeos, Rise of a dark power

~Real Name~
Leon Aremato Epimetheus (Now goes by the name of Daeos)

~Age~
21

~Race~
Hylian, Prince of the Silvarian Kingdom

~History~
Throughout the vastness and diversity of history, one element had remained an unchanged, everlasting and integral part of the planet. A strange unbending desire that consumed the minds of most beings, an eerie thrill that came through the spilling of blood and the conquering of others weaker than oneself. It was like a plague that had continued to seep steadily and constantly through most intelligent life forms. A plague that, once a being submits to its sick temptation, becomes an addiction and a necessity for survival. That plague was a need for strength and conflict. Ever since the earliest beginnings of time, there were always those who strived to prove themselves through their power and judged others by this standard alone.

Things have remained as they were for countless years. The land bore witness to the rise and fall of kingdoms and empires, kings and tyrants and almost every other entity of power known. Some battled for benevolent and noble purposes, Their aim pure and their hearts set on peace while others fought for their own selfish ambitions and the desire to enslave all those before them. Amongst these great kingdoms was the mighty empire of King Aremato, Leader of the Silvarians.

Aremato was a cold ruthless man, His ambitions and goals rivaled only by the seemingly infinite depths of his evil nature. He was a man who sought to control all that his eyes beheld and was quite willing to do whatever it took to achieve his desires even if he had to murder innocents or even his own men. On the contrary, He actually relished the act of taking lives particularly those of the innocent. Most people who had known him as a child were puzzled by the man he had become for, at one time, he was as kind hearted a man as one could only hope to see. What could have induced such a radical change none seemed to know, each attempt to analyze his past was only rewarded with more confusion.

The king had no living kin save for two young children, The Prince Leon and Princess Maeve. Though these two were identical twins, the similarities they shared ended there. Preferring solitude to the company of others, the prince was a loner and was regarded by most as a spoilt brat. As such, He was rather difficult to get along with, His introverted nature not exactly the best medium to help him socialize. Early on in his life, it was deemed that the lad’s aptitude for necromancy was lacking at best. Necromancy, A dark form of magic whose secrets lay in manipulating the evil within the soul of the caster to perform a multitude of tasks ranging from attacking a foe to summoning demons, was the trademark of the Silvarians. It was, one could say, considered to be a rite of passage into manhood.

The Princess, however, was the exact opposite of her brother. Kind and always eager to help others, Maeve commanded the love of the Silvarian subjects. Her magical prowess was unprecedented and her potential seemed almost limitless. Though the two siblings’ personalities were as different from one another as night was to day, they got along extremely well. It was only Maeve who had managed to earn the prince’s friendship and trust, a feat that not even the king was able to achieve. As such, the twins were seemingly inseparable.

Angered at his heir’s lack of skill in the field of magic, The King ordered that an intensive training regimen be put into effect immediately in the hopes of drawing out any latent magical abilities that dwelled within him. The raven-haired youth was pushed far beyond his limitations as per the king’s orders, an order which the palace fighters were apparently quite glad to obey. Everyday he would train from dawn till dusk; His determination to achieve the nearly impossible goal of attaining the king’s approval and recognition was driving him beyond his limitations. A few weeks after the beginning of his training, it became obvious that Leon had absolutely no talent for dark magic.

Enduring the almost suicidal routine over the course of many years, Leon’s abilities had improved in leaps and bounds. He had learnt to wield most weapons with excellent proficiency especially the sword and spear, His skill with a blade dwarfing that of even the mightiest of the Silvarians despite the fact that he was only around 12 years of age. But alas, Dark magic was not one of the areas in which he excelled, Managing to master only the most basic of the dark arts and that meager bit was achieved with immense difficulty and special tutoring from his sister. The lad was continually haunted by the look of Aremato’s anger and disappointment, the elderly king clearly not impressed with the youth’s lack of magical aptitude.

During that time, the land was divided amongst three superpowers. The Silvarian kingdom that ruled the western lands while the Renslay Empire and the warrior tribes of the Ayuvir who dwelled in the east. Seeing that the Silvarians were fast becoming a major threat to the land, the two western powers banded together to halt the impeding invasion.

The news fell onto the king like the stab of a poisoned knife being well aware that, in their union, the western forces possessed enough strength to overthrow his dark rule and put an end to his dreams of conquest. He had become rather old and had been greatly weakened; the passage of time taking its toll on his body and Leon was not yet strong enough to counter the threat. It had become a truly desperate situation where only the most drastic of solutions could shift the tides. A solution which the king had opted to employ.

One foul night, an event that had the potential to change the course of the world’s…nay, the universe’s future was about to take place. Summoning the princess before him, Amerato gave her a pendant of some sort. In the faint light of the torches, one could see that it was rather small in size fitting easily into the girl’s slender palm. Its surface was a wondrous mix of silver and gold in color, Faded marking and inscriptions were almost invisible in the diminished light of the chamber. The pendant bore two gems on either side, One as black as starless night sky while the other was a dazzling white whose brightness surpassed anything Maeve had ever set eyes upon. Lost in her excited study of the magnificent tool her hands held, the princess was oblivious of the happenings and the sounds of approaching footsteps around her until it was too late.

With incredible speed and accuracy, two burly arms grabbed the startled girl from behind. One petrified scream managed to escape her lips before a vile hand came atop Maeve’s lips, Silencing any future protests or spells. A weird chant began to echo within the chamber, the chanter’s voice was deep and strong and yet it was familiar to the girl. It was the king. As the words continued to flow from her father’s mouth, a strange haze enveloped the princess’ mind and senses. Though she fought hard, Her mind was unable to endure and was usurped by the king.

Wasting not a moment, the princess proceeded to obey the elderly man’s instructions, Dictated to her through her mind. The pendant hung silently in the dank air, Gravity’s force having no influence whatsoever over the ancient relic. The gems on the talisman’s sides now shone an eerie blood red as clouds of pitch black smoke enveloped the two Silvarians. A figure could barely be seen rising from within the black veil of darkness, its enshrouded form making its way towards the Silvarian girl.

The figure drew closer to the girl with each step, a vile hand seemed to be reaching out to her mind controlled body. After further inspection, it would seem that the previous statement was incorrect. No hand could have been reaching for the girl as, revealed in the crimson light of the gem, the mysterious form neither possessed any hands nor any other body parts at all, for that matter. It appeared to be some ethereal being of sorts, a creature who lacked a physical manifestation of its own. And from the looks of things, He was about to procure one in a matter of seconds.

Luckily, That was not to be as a dark cloaked youth lunged himself in front of the mind controlled child and straight at the anonymous form. Alerted by the cry uttered earlier by his sibling, Leon was able to intervene in the situation. A terrifying wail of anger escaped the creature as it came into contact with the raven-haired prince instead of its original target. Surging across the chamber was an immense power radiating from the dark figure, a fraction of its might seen in the many cracks that had littered the stone walls. A force whose true intensity came to light upon the figure’s contact with the youthful prince.

As his body collided with the ethereal from, An immense ache surged within the prince’s body. His eyes had widened with a sharp snap as his attempts to conceal the immense pain building up rapidly within him were failing miserably. His limbs felt as though they were burning up from the inside and a malevolent swirl of darkness swept over him, Pushing him further and further within the haze of unconsciousness. The crimson light gave off one last dazzling burst of energy before it, to the shock of the king, enveloped the youthful prince and vanished within the pendant’s untold depths.

Following that terrifying sequence of events was yet another one. It would seem that the foundations of the aging castle had been pushed well beyond its limits of endurance as the walls began swaying like a leaf in the face of a swift gust of wind. Upon the entity’s disappearance, the king’s body twitched slightly before gazing at the happenings around him with wide, unbelieving eyes like those of a drunk who had finally sobered. To his great distress, the elderly Silvarian came to the realization that he was about to lose it all. The palace, his home and that of his children, was crumbling fast. His son was lost within the pendant whilst his daughter was nowhere in sight, Probably already killed by one of the many falling pillars. For the sake of greed and power, He had paid the ultimate price. And with that, the palace fell.

Some time later, the raven-haired youth finally began to wake. His eyes roamed the area as he tried to place some coherent thought into his still stunned brain. He appeared to be somewhere underground, a dungeon most likely. A large and sturdy door barred the path out of the cell and strong iron bars were placed within the window frame allowing only sunlight through. As he began to regain his balance, the teen felt odd, As though there was something alien within him. An immense power radiated from within his spirit, its sheer magnitude far exceeding anything he had ever imagined possible. Strength flowed through his veins like never before and it seemed that it was only the tip of the iceberg.

However, as with all things in life, this power was not for free. That soon became obvious to the youth as he began to feel something else along with his newfound powers. A weird entity of some sort though what it was he could not figure out. Most likely the same being he had connected with earlier. There was only one thing that he was able to feel about it. A maelstrom of evil and malevolence that threatened to dominate his mind. Clearly, This was no ordinary being that had been summoned by the king. No sooner had he dwelled on that thought than a voice had spoken, the words seeming to come from Leon himself.

“Well, child. I do hope that you are pleased with yourself.”The cold voice spoke, its every tone clearly quivering with anger.

“Yeah, I am. And who, or rather what, the heck could you be?”

“You are impudent, whelp. A trait that will soon have you regretting the day you were born. I am Vakeil, Demon lord, Warrior of the apocalypse and I’m, to your great honor and my misfortune, the next master of this frail body of yours.”

“What?!”The shocked replyshot out of Leon's mouth before he could stop it. Leon knew that his father was not exactly the kindest of men but never thought that even he would not go so far.

“What else did you think I was summoned for? Well, Your sister is gone now so you’ll have to do, I suppose.”

“I won’t believe that. I will never believe it.”

“Do as you will, kid. But I suggest you get out of here first.”The demon chuckled, One could almost feel the smirk on his face.

“How? My magic isn’t…” Began the youth as he recalled the look of disappointment that adorned his father's face whenever Leon's magical abilities were mentioned.

“Heh. I highly doubt that it's like that now. Try it yourself.”

Reluctantly, The golden-eyed lad followed the demon’s advice and, in the meager space of a few seconds, it was proven that Vakeil’s advice was sound. An immense bone shout out from his right palm and straight through the iron door. At least as long as the boy’s arms, the bone was rather large. Its shape was like that of a spear though its tip, being made of bone, was much sharper than average. A small puddle of blood fell from his palm where the bone had made its exit, No doubt leaving behind quite a bit of pain. With great surprise, the prince noticed that pain in his hand had already begun to subside, the gash from the wound being mended in no more than a few seconds.

Disbelievingly, The boy stared at his hands for a moment as the feeling of power that was felt as he awakened began to surge even more intensely than before. The prince made his way across the dungeon, anything or anybody who attempted to bar his path was easily removed. Judging from the foes he had run into, the boy assumed that this was a hideout for thieves and bandits who were luckily stationed near Silvaria. In his hurry to reach his homeland, Leon failed to notice the cloaked pair who were observing him outside the dungeon.

“I guess you were right. It’s definitely him, Boss.”Remarked the shorter one, Clearly the subordinate of the second figure.

“Of course I’m right. However, I did not expect him to possess such a strong will. He may prove troublesome. I’m looking forward to it.” Came the other’s reply, His voice lashed with excitement and anticipation.

To his astonishment, the raven-haired prince discovered that his home was no more. Where Silvaria had once stood, a pile of rubble was teetering above an untended and abandoned fort. The land was barren and desolate and had long since lost all traces of life. As was revealed to the lad by the demonic inhabitant of his body, over a decade had passed since the day of the incident. A plethora of emotions flooded the youth as he gazed at the tragic sight before him, recalling the memories he held of his home and his family. In the end, one feeling made itself felt from within the others. A wave of guilt flooded him as he thought of his sister, The only true friend he had ever had and the only person who had neither shown him disappointment like his father or hate like the other Silvarians. Had he been more powerful, maybe he could have saved her. If he had been stronger and better skilled with magic, their father probably wouldn’t have attempted to summon the demon lord. Because of his weakness, both his sister and father were lost to him.

That final thought had made up his mind. As the young Silvarian turned his back and made to walk away, He turned to look upon his home one last time, a silent vow shining clearly in the golden pupils. The name of Leon would be forsaken for it was with that identity that he was powerless to rescue those who were dear to him. Brandishing another name, He would become Daeos. A man who was stronger, smarter and superior in everyway to the person he was. He would never allow himself to become as weak as he was ever again. Strength and power would be his sole purpose and goal in life, And heaven help anyone foolish enough to stand in his way.

~Appearance~
Even with the most casual of glimpses, one could easily tell that Daeos was not one to be lost within a crowd. Resembling a calm stream in its fashion, the lad’s long mane of black hair flowed swiftly down his back stopping just past his shoulder blades. The top of his head was adorned with short spikes, the ebony tendrils often resting on his forehead.

His face was quite youthful, lacking the slightest trace of facial hair along the well-sculpted features. Sitting between his eyes was a short slender nose that only served to further accentuate the almost elven appearance. A radiant white was the tone of Daeos’ skin, a shade that fit the handsome face rather nicely.

The one thing that betrayed this youthful look, however, was the Silvarian’s eyes. Foreboding and fearsome they most certainly were, a look of cold fury seemed to be engraved within the twin orbs. They were a bit wider than average and bore a most unusual golden hue, its gaze sending chills down the spines of the bravest of men and the most courageous of warriors. A thin halo of crimson could be faintly seen around his pupils further adding to the paranormal appearance of the eyes.

Emerging from underneath a thick cloak were two long slender arms, their muscles toned and well defined. The arms were wide and graceful, however, they lacked any signs of gashes or scars despite the fact that his appearance was obviously that of a man whose life was littered with combat and bloodshed.

Like his arms, Daeos’ body was both powerful and agile, its frame reaching a towering height exceeding six feet by several inches. The youth’s chest was rather broad, the wall of corded muscle refusing to be concealed by any item of clothing.

~Clothing~
Daeos was garbed in a dark purple tunic of exquisite design and workmanship. Along the side of the tunic, several lines of gold trailed their way in a faint beautiful pattern. The material was apparently foreign in origin, it was strange and yet quite relaxing to the touch.

Resting atop of the raven haired youth’s right shoulder was a well-crafted black shoulder plate that almost rivaled his hair in the darkness of hue. An emblem of some sort was engraved onto the plate, most likely that of a royal family or one of the few lords of the area. However, It was almost impossible to identify the crest having lost a large portion of it thanks to a large hole in the middle of the plate. What could have pierced such a strong piece of armament is unknown.

A deep blood red cloak flowed along his back, its length on par with that of Daeos. Unlike the tunic however, it was made from the standard materials found in most towns, its beauty lying not within the quality of the cloth but rather in the vividness of its color whose blood red shade has startled many and the high level of workmanship which clearly exceeded that of the average cloak.

Fastened around the golden-eyed warrior’s chest was a silver belt. It was average in design, having no defining traits save for a few spikes that protruded just above the buckle. Several small side pockets were visible along the length of the belt though they were rather small and would be unable to hold any large item. They were usually empty however, Daeos opting instead to wear the belt as a decorative item. Secured to his shoulder plate, the belt reached from the beginning of the shoulder till the left side of the chest.

Adorning his lower body was a pair of long black trousers, their length ending just shortly above the ankles. They were quite plain having no pattern or distinct traits whatsoever. However, They were surprisingly well maintained, their obsidian surface almost completely free of dirt or creases.

Daeos also wears a pair of black boots similar in shade to his pants. They were longer than usual stopping just below the knees. Their dark tone gave them a somewhat sinister feel, a fact that was to Daeos’ preference. No shoestrings or other fastening utilities were incorporated in the boots design leading one to assume that it was most likely meant for the legs to simply slide into. Despite that fact, however, they were surprisingly well fastened once the foot is placed within.

As for his hands, They were encased in two dark blue gloves. Their hue was a rather elegant one suggesting that they were intended for a member of royalty. The material was smooth and comfortable to the touch. Gleaming atop his right index finger was a small ring. A beautiful shade of silvery blue, it was something that he had in his possession from his earliest years. Traces of gold were visible around its surface ending in an emblem of sorts though it too was difficult to tell. It did not serve any actual purpose however Daeos continued to wear it as a memento of sorts, a reminder of his earlier years.

~Personality~
Calm. Arrogant. Overconfident. Proud. All of these traits are available in abundance within the raven haired Silvarian. His personality is quite the complex puzzle and it left most people befuddled and confused. Usually he’s cold and withdrawn, Preferring actions over words. Being quite adept at hiding his emotions, it was extremely difficult to tell what he was feeling at any given moment.

A cunning strategist from his earliest years, His battle senses and tactics were frighteningly effective. Surpassing the mere analysis and finding the most effective course of action in any given situation, He was able to read into the opponent’s movements and, to some extent, deduce what they plan to do next.

A very strong streak of overconfidence runs within him to such an extent that most would regard it as foolishness. He completely believes in his skills and abilities and very rarely does he regard anyone as being a worthy adversary. As such, this trait had often led his enemies to assume that they were being underestimated and thus had an advantage. A fatal mistake that was for, although Daeos is indeed arrogant, He knows it about himself and guards against it being used as a weakness.

He is also proud to the extreme, preferring to die in battle to retreating from a foe. To him, Surrender was no option for it would mean that someone was more powerful than he was, a fact that he does not, and most likely never will, accept. A trait that was only enhanced by the savage ways of his race and their combat oriented nature. Unlike the others of his kin, however, He would never resort to trickery or deceit to win a battle deeming it to be cowardly and pathetic.

On the other hand, there was also a trace of self-depreciation in the youth’s character. A firm belief that he could have somehow prevented the tragedies in his past had he wielded greater strength or possessed more power. Though logically he was aware of the fact that he could have done nothing at the time, the guilt and shame would not go away but would instead be enhanced by a feeling of helplessness and futility. This belief, coupled with his cast iron pride, led the youth on a never-ending quest for strength and omnipotence so that he could truly fulfill what he believes to be his destiny.

~Special Skills~
Born from his accidental union with the demon lord Vakeil was a terrifying power. The incantation that had been cast by his father was a forbidden dark art that was sealed away long ago. This spell allows the caster to create a bond between Man and demon. Through this union, The host’s already existing physical and metal powers will be enhanced dramatically in addition to gaining some form of ability or skill that relies on the strength of his soul, his personality, his physical and mental capabilities as well as many other aspects of himself. As such, the ability one gains through the use of this dark art is as unique to him as his own fingerprints and can be possessed by nobody else even if the same spell is applied. Daeos’ ability is the manipulation of the bone forming and destroying cells.

This allows the dark prince to change the shape of one of his bones into a weapon and pull it out through any part of his body. After the bone is extracted, He then uses the bone forming cells to quickly grow another one to replace the withdrawn bone. His control over the cells also enabled him to mend the pierced skin tissue though the mending process is not instantaneous and could take a minute or so. The extracted bone could also be strengthened through increasing the density of the calcium it contains however strengthening the bone uses up more of the boy’s energy. While this skill is powerful, it is not without its flaws. Drawing on the power of the soul, Skills that are acquired through such an unholy spell are quite taxing to one’s spirit as they draw said power from the very essence of one’s soul. As such, if one were foolish enough to use it too much, their body would shrivel up like a prune and die in a most unpleasant manner. However, That is not all.

Based on what was mentioned above, one would have to wonder as to why a demon would agree and even go so far as to be eager for this incantation to take place even though the host body gets most of the benefits. Well, if the will of the host is weak, He will be able to seize control of the body. When a demon possesses a body, His power would rise exponentially even if it were a weak one. Better still for the demons is the fact that if the host is strong in spirit but suffers an incident of some sort that causes him to weaken and delve into despair and self pity, Then the demon could usurp his soul during its period of weakness and would gain the power that the spirit held before weakening. This power is truly the representation of a double-edged weapon.

~Weapons~
An intelligent and bright youth, Daeos was able to comprehend enough about the demon symbiosis that occurred to him to have a basic idea of its dangers. As such, He opted to use his own skill and power and would only rely on his demonic skills in the most dire of circumstances. This has led him to seek out a weapon that would suit his needs. He acquired said weapon during his 16th year whilst on his journey. It was and large swallow-like in shape having two sharp blades at the ends of a staff. The two blades are crafted into the form of a crescent allowing for an effective yet stylish attack. The weapon could also be split into two; each crescent blade attached to one half of the staff.

Hoooooly God...

This utter greatness, one of the best characters ever for sure. Enaeius, you are amazing

*puts a lil gold approved sticker on Daeos* Gold for special ^_~