The Wishmaster/ Pyralis

*Approved by Aex over PM, only put here for space purposes.*

Name Before Death: Johnathan Ilien Ledgers

Name now: Pyralis, although that calling is only known if one does enough research to find it, which takes a lot of time and effort, using the oldest books or the smartest people around. He’s mostly referred to by people as the Wish Master, a name he has grown to be fond of.

Age at death: He was twenty-four at his parting.

Age now: He appears to be in his middle to late twenties, although he’s lived for centuries.

Race: It is unknown exactly what he is. Most would call it a shell of a being, appearance as a human so as to make the game more interesting. He is like nothing ever seen before, and therefore, has no name for his race. He is the only one of his type that exists, at least to his knowledge.

Sex: Male

Hair before: A chestnut brown, it hung in an almost feminine fashion to the sides of his chin, the bangs just barely covering his eyes unless he tucked them behind his ears. He very much liked it the same length all around, apart from the front pieces, to give his face some depth.

Hair now: A very deep red color, with a few twinges of orange. It does not hang, but sticks back as if gelled, several pieces different lengths, but none longer than the very beginning of his neck. Only three pieces cover his face at all, one for each side near the ear and one straight in-between his eyes.

Eyes before: A deep blue, almost resembling the outer parts of the ocean on a moonlit night. They lit up his features greatly, making one look deeper at them when surveying his face than anything else.

Eyes now: A shimmering brown color, almost the color of dirt to symbolize his birth.

Weight: Technically, he is feather-light, although now, because of his re-birth, he would weigh around 170 lbs.

Height: 5’9.

Weapons:

Rose of Sharon- A standard issue for most guardian angels stolen from Will after The Wishmaster , Pyralis now possesses a double-edged sword, though slender (about the width of an average ruler set face down) and two feet long. Unlike most normal issues, however, he contains a special design on his sword. Will, using his own blood after the tragedy of Selene, forged an intertwining vine of red down the spine of the sword, ending with a blooming rose at the hilt of the sword. When Pyralis holds the sword, the trails of blood glow an orange. He tends to use both this and Volcanis when faced with a difficult foe to overtake. This sword has the special ability to give Pyralis a power over heated gusts, strong enough to vary from a breeze to hurricane velocity.

Sword of Volcanis A sword provided to him as a starting weapon and his favorite, it is carefully decorated in a cryptic message going up the sharpened metal. The components of the metal are nothing any human has ever known. The hilt of the weapon is formed in a smooth metallic substance, hard, and cool to Pyralis only. Others wouldn't be able to touch it.

The weapon is approximately two and a half feet in length, and quite skinny. The origin of this weapon is currently unknown. Pyralis has taken this weapon and transformed it to the Sword of Volcanis, capable of cracking the earth and causing magma to rise and ooze over the surface of the land. It also pierces armor with ease, even the toughest material. It plunges through any sort of metal like butter.

Ripshot Stolen from Billie in The Wishmaster , this is a side weapon, a small black gun. Most people, because of its shape and size, mistake it for a pistol when he reveals it, but it’s actually more than that. Using this weapon, Pyralis can shoot razor sharp miniature cd’s at his foes, within picoseconds of one another. Thanks to the new ownership, the miniature cd’s are now coated in flame which ignites no matter where it goes, and he also no longer worries about ammo, as he can form the flaming disks in his hands, composed of nothing but fire.

Armor: He needs none.

Strengths: His greatest strength is his pure raw power. His power and ability borders on that of a god, thanks to his master. Second in line is the fact that he cannot die as of yet. He regenerates himself without thought, as he was created from the earth and fire, and from those he is reborn, thanks to his master.

Elements do not harm him, either. He can appear anywhere fire is, at any time, and even if water is used against him, it cannot destroy him. His master has an immunity to water, and as such, so does he. The only way he can be destroyed is if his master is destroyed or the silver heart, and since so little is known about his master or the item, that, as of yet, is impossible.

Although Pyralis cannot be killed to anyone's knowledge yet, he can be beaten. He doesn't like to fight unless he is told to, usually, and in that, he would be like a punching bag unless ordered to fight back, or unless he felt the urge. He's very passive most of the time, surprising for one with such potential. Physical attacks will damage him over a long period of time, and only if directed towards his chest, where the heart would be.

Weakness: Pyralis himself doesn’t contain any weaknesses that are visible. Because of the fact that his master does not control every part of him, he doubts his purpose, and searches for one constantly. He does not like having to answer to anyone he doesn't like, and in that way, he is very stubborn. He also tends not to be as caring as to what he should gain in a deal, as he cannot perish and finds little joy in life as it is. In this way, it makes it easy for someone to gain him and use him as an ally or even a tool just as his current master does. If his master were destroyed, so would he. He can, however, be called away by his master, and must obey.

Unfortunately, whenever his master calls, he has no choice but to follow. He may be weakened, as well. This is accomplished only through talking to him to learn weaknesses, ones that are psychological, as he has little physical weakness. A part of him, the silver heart, is the only part that keeps him having his own will. If someone held that and knew how to use it properly, they would control him.

Also, the silver heart can kill him if it is melted, which can only be done using the fire Pyralis has control over. He doesn’t know this, but his master does. A person must perform a ceremony before he or she would become Pyralis's new master or mistress. Even without this heart, it is easy for Pyralis to become swayed into doing what others convince him to do, but it takes a certain measure of trust. He is very flighty when not under commands from his master, despite his overwhelming power.

Although he is not weakened by water and cold, he doesn’t favor them, and therefore, they annoy him. He is also, although he doesn’t seem it at first glance, very naive about the world, having just been reborn.

Skills/Magic:

The Prestige An attack stolen from Carillon in The Wishmaster , by using this power, Pyralis forces a vortex of superheated flames to engulf his surroundings, stretching nearly five stories high. The flames are impossible, like the rest of his fire, to extinguish and measure at their weakest points nearly two hundred degrees Fahrenheit. The circumference of this attack ranges to that of a football field by all sides. These records may change and shift depending on the amount of power Pyralis forces into it.

Flame Pyralis can use fire in any type he pleases, gaining not only great power from absorbing *The Wish Master* Dark Selene’s shadow fire powers, but having been granted immense powers from his master. He can form it in any time or volume he chooses, moving the shapes as he desires. The fire cannot be extinguished unless Pyralis does so himself, no matter if one tries to choke it off. His fire does not need oxygen. He forms his own weapons as he needs them by using his past occupation as a blacksmith, even if he doesn’t remember it. His mastery of the fire will not be rivaled, even in his master’s powers.

Ash Ash seems to follow Pyralis wherever he goes, like a storm cloud of corruption, it snows upon the land. It is the consistency of snowflakes, gray and dirty, bitter to taste. He controls it, and therefore, if he needs to leave and is having difficulty, or grows bored fighting someone, he’ll cause a thick cloud of it to provide a getaway shield.

Steam Much like ash, Pyralis may also form steam at any time he wishes, and generally uses it to the same effect as the ash. It proves useful when he is faced with a foe he’d rather not talk to.

Temperature Rising Exploiting his abilities, Pyralis makes the general heat in the air rise to points unbearable by humans at times. He is most comfortable at the general temperature of above one hundred and twenty. He has never had to raise the temperature anything above two hundred to eliminate someone.

Appearance: Most of the time, Pyralis does not like to be seen. If he does in fact make himself visible, it is only because the person he faces he deems with a little respect or curiosity. When he is visible, and not simply a voice, he wears brown long pants, of a silky material. He has on a top that would at first look like a dress because it parts as if an upside down letter “y” once it reaches his hips, making two separate folds of clothing to cover some of his pants. It reaches all the way down to his ankles. The design on the tunic is composed of red, orange, and yellow colors, his favorite outfit. He wears a chain with dog tags around his neck, something to remind him that he belongs to the one he serves exclusively. He wears brown boots that reach just to the middle of his calves, with two stitched flame symbols in the folded top parts of them.

He also has a red sash tied about his waist, and on it he has several small silver rings. Each silver ring symbolizes a person whose wish he has granted. Currently, there are four rings upon it. Although his clothing is bright normally, if needed, he dons dark black clothing to make himself inconspicuous. His features strike fear into most people, although only if he wishes them to. Pyralis, strange as it may seem, seems to like toying with his victims, playing games with tem to make them believe he is some sort of friend when really, he is a distorted soul bent on corruption and causing destruction.

Personality now: Pyralis is an incredibly solitary being. He only speaks to others if they convince him to, and that takes some doing most of the time. Being by himself so much, he is naturally curious about the world around him, and takes time to explore it when he is not summoned. He is stubborn at times, and very difficult to understand when he doesn't get an action or saying from a person. Almost stoic all the time, it is also hard to get him to show emotion or say something that doesn’t pertain to the fighting unless the person is interesting enough. His past is unknown, even to him, and this is what makes others so interesting to the man.

Life is an incredible thing to Pyralis, although so many times he has snuffed it out. He wants to know why he was chosen to be the servant to his master, and why others are free. The concept of being his own person is unknown and unfamiliar to his mind. He is incredibly evil, but only because of his master. Part of him, the part that remains keeping him partially human, is the only thing that makes him capable of his own thought. For some unknown reason to him, he seems to have an affinity for drawing in the ash that he forms and playing the harp. He also favors his servant, Con, very much, and deems him under his protection.

If he makes an ally, whether good or evil, he is incredibly loyal to them, at least the piece that he still contains of his will. He may take on a sense of sarcasm and annoyance, but this is a good sign as it is his personality revealing. If he does this to the person, they can be sure that he considers them a valuable asset, enough to talk to them. Pyralis enjoys hot places, and therefore has made his general home around the dormant volcano near the town of Red Hill. He despises rain, cold, and moisture, but they don’t weaken him.

When it comes to women and religion, Pyralis basically ignores both. He believes the one he serves is god, and that he cannot be defeated. He is not allowed to speak of his master, but will do so at times, mostly to himself, and sometimes to a very good friend that would ask. Where women are involved, Pyralis has a unique attachment to blondes, and will go out of his way to survey one, even from a distance. He does not know why, yet. He shows no sign of shyness around most women, and actually enjoys their presence and conversation more than men.

Personality then: Johnathan was a remarkable young man. Funny, charming, and kind to boot, he was the heartthrob of the women. He loved helping others, which is the part of the reason he became a blacksmith. He did have a slight trouble with being stubborn, and hasty, but this was true with every young man. He was a friendly, outgoing boy that enjoyed making friends and spending time with them. He loved a good day’s work, although quite naïve and innocent for a boy, he loved it, and he loved things other boys his age did not like. Shy around those he did not know, Johnathan enjoyed walks by the ocean, and over viewing the volcano. For some reason, he also enjoyed playing the harp, which was his natural talent, as well as drawing. He always carried a pad and charcoal around.


Biography: *Small attatched warning- This character’s biography is a tiny bit long. It will be split into four frames*

The First Beginning…

He moved his fingers pensively over the paper, smudging the lead purposely and flicking his eyes back and forth. He would return to his canvass for only a split-second before resting his gaze upon the scenery. The sunset, lighting the ocean brightly as it sank below the horizon, was nature’s most spectacular asset. He planned to catch it fully, in all its beauty. Casually, he glanced over his shoulder. He would return to his village soon, located just a few miles away. The plot of land in which he lived was situated just around a dormant volcano.

The lad, at a ripe age of twenty-two, was not like the other boys from the village. Instead of learning a trade and devoting his full time to that, he liked spending the majority of his time playing the instrument he seemed to be very good at, the harp. He also enjoyed drawing, as he was now. Curiously, most of his sketches, excellent as they were, were not colored. He preferred the old fashioned approach. As far as learning a trade with his life, he favored the blacksmith, spending his time learning how to meld and forge blades for those other boys that wished to join the army or go adventuring.

He set his pad down on his lap, his feet dangling aimlessly over the side of the cavern overlooking the blue waters of the beach. His pants, brown and simple, were rolled up to his knees so they didn’t get soaked. Out of all the boys in his village, he was the strangest. He had always been shy, especially around others he didn’t know, but he didn’t seem to mind. His quiet nature appealed to several of the girls in the town, but none really caught his eye. He never showed much interest in wooing anyone, in fact, if anything, his parents feared he would remain single for the rest of his life.

His mother, Marian, gave him his feminine features, as well as the color of his hair, a chestnut brown. She was a homemaker, and a very wise woman. She cared very much for her family, however, she was also very susceptible to illness, and therefore fell often to sickness. She loved her husband and son intensely, willing to give them whatever it was they needed, happy when her family was happy.

Her son started work when he was young to help his father, who happened to be a farmer. He knew much about the soil, and taught his son every trick to growing things he knew. He said it was the best thing that could be done in this village, since volcanic soil is so fertile. Even if the hazard had been dormant for a long time, hundreds of years, the dirt that rested about the town could be used for nearly anything. A very rugged, yet warm, friendly man, Jack made himself a pledge to keep his family safe, and did so to the best of his ability, despite his son’s dreamy outlook on life.

Suddenly, a strange humming sound sounded about thirty feet out to the ocean, and the boy snapped to attention, clumsily fumbling his notebook and watching it slip out of his hands. He reached out, but it was too late. The entire work tumbled forward with a soft plop into the ocean. He cursed softly, but the unique noise he heard halted shortly after the ripples faded. Sighing, the boy packed up what little else he brought with him, including the leftover food from snacks, and returned home. Both of his parents were overjoyed to see him as they always were, but despite their attempts to interest him in courting a girl, he returned the next day to the lookout point.

This particular spot gave him the most interest because of the ruins nearby. It had been at one time, a sanctuary. The stained glass windows shone behind the sun, the fragments lovely as they were, even not complete. Throughout the day of sitting and gazing out to sea, he thought. This was a good place to think, just because he wasn’t disturbed, and the soothing rush of the ocean waves soothed his mind. He hoped the strange occurrence from the day before would happen again, and as he had wished, it did indeed happen. However, it was nothing he could have imagined. A stream of water shot up from the ocean, an almost dim light shining or a blur of white among the stars.

The jet of salty water fell after a few moments, revealing a figure standing upon the water as if it were solid ground. It was a young man, his entire outfit soaked. He looked almost like a knight, a cloak on his back and what seemed to be armor about his body. He approached the figure on land slowly, and paused when he got near, holding something out.

Slowly, the boy on the rock accepted the item, looking down at it. It was his sketching notebook, completely covered in water damage, and the lead blurring the images completely. He looked up at the figure in white, who simply stood there, blinking. “Are… are you giving this to me? Where and how did you get it? Who… are you?” A normal person from the village would have fled a long time ago, but he was interested enough to stay.

A stream of gibberish erupted from the boy in white’s mouth. It was a thickly-accented language, one that was in no way familiar. He took the notebook and pointed to the last picture done, the one of the sunset upon the ocean, not quite finished, but still good, even through the immense soaking and blurring of the saltwater. Again, a few unknown words flew from his mouth, though slower now. At the end, looking at the boy’s confused expression, he laughed softly. He took a hand and pointed to himself. “Lucien.”

For a moment, he simply stared down at the notebook the boy in white returned to him once more. Then he heard the word again. “Lucien?” He repeated.

The boy’s face, sheltered greatly by his long white hair, lit up and he beamed from ear to ear, nodding. Then, he crossed his arms and tilted his head, looking expectantly. After another moment, the boy from the village understood. His thin lips broke into a smile, and he pointed to himself. “Johnathan.”

Fast Friends

After a few months of returning every night to that particular spot, Johnathan began to learn a great deal about his mystery visitor. The language he spoke was Atlantean as he described it, and it was an incredibly difficult language to comprehend. Over the few weeks, Johnathan had only been able to understand three words so far, and none really helped him much. A guamplot was a fruit that grew only underwater, and Lucien described it as somewhat of a tomato. However, Lucien picked up nearly the entire language of English remarkably quickly. The boy, who was a prince of Atlantis, told Johnathan his story over a long and difficult process.

He was part of a very large royal family, but he was the only son, with nine sisters. His mother was dead, but his father planned on passing the crown to Lucien soon. Because the prince was starved for excitement, he had dared to go to the surface, as they were highly warned not to do. He would have appeared the night Johnathan dropped his notebook, but that startled the Atlantean, and that’s why Lucien returned it the next time. He complimented Johnathan on his drawing techniques, and the two began one of many conversations about the possibilities of Johnathan trying to use octopus ink sometime in his drawings. The Atlantean knew very little about the above world, and so in exchange for Lucien telling about his world, Johnathan described his.

Each day, both of them would bring books or fruits, or any other item for the opposite to examine. It was an amazing sort of company, one you couldn’t understand unless you had experienced it yourself. Besides “guamplot”, Johnathan also learned of “rashtors” (which were an extremely spicy vegetable of the ocean), and “aloish”, which meant “hello.” As Johnathan brought a sandwich for his new friend that night, Lucien returned with a large fish, which he promptly set on the land. Scaring Johnathan out of his wits, the fish hovered in mid-air, grinning with a rather sharp pair of teeth.

“What on earth is that?” Johnathan rasped from behind the rock he leaped for shelter in.

“Hickleback.” Lucien replied with a soft laugh. Like Johnathan, he, too, was very feminine, though it was more centered with his voice than his overall appearance. “This Hickleback is… how would you say it in your language... a pet of mine.”

“This thing is your pet?” Johnathan squeaked, easing down from his safety.

“Yes.” Lucien laughed, his white hair waving about his face. “Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you.”

Johnathan slowly placed both feet on the ground, walking over to the fish and giving it a slight pat on the head, much like he would have a dog. The fish uttered what sounded like a mix of a growl and a purr, and floated back into the ocean. “You have weird things down there.”

Lucien simply continued to smile. “It is a common friend under these waters, I am surprised you haven’t seen one before.”

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll bring a dog to let you see what we have for pets on land. Wait, what would you like to talk about tomorrow?” Johnathan asked, hands folded as he watched his friend lay back on the water as if it were a mattress.

The Atlantean enjoyed nothing more than getting to know how life was done on land. “Tomorrow we talk about women.”

Johnathan paused in a realization. “Girls, you mean? What about them?” He tried not to flush too much of a red as he asked. During these few weeks, a certain woman had caught his eye.

“Ah! You have one you like!” Lucien teased; his unique accent still thick.

“I do not! Well… maybe. She’s pretty. No, beautiful. She’s like the sunset herself, more amazing than I could ever hope to be. I can’t stop thinking about her, and I haven’t even talked to her yet.” Johnathan confessed, smiling. “Hey, if you want to see her, maybe I can bring her by later.”

“Sounds nice. Bring her down, and I’ll see her from underwater.” The two began to part ways, but then Johnathan turned with a wave.

“You forgot about teaching me that one word for today in Antlantean.” The boy forgot about learning Hickleback. He wished Lucien could come with him, but unfortunately, the boy had yet to learn the talent of leaving the ocean. He would die soon after setting foot on the beach.

”What about mine in English?” Lucien retorted, teasing the boy.

“How about ‘See-ya’? It’s a phrase used when people leave for now.” Johnathan stated, still waving with a bright smile on his face, his teeth whiter than most.

Lucien kept a faint smile up, waving back. “ See ya, Eleshin!” He shouted towards the disappearing figure.

“What’s that mean?” The faint voice reached him, but Johnathan could not be seen any longer. His speed on land was quite rash.

“Friend! It means friend!” Lucien replied with a continuing wave.

“See ya…” The voice faded slightly. “Eleshin…”

Spark Sets Fire

Lucien dreaded every Wednesday with a passion. All his life, he’d seen many girls, since he was a prince… but never one like Mina, who visited that day every week. Her blonde hair shone just like the sun. He felt such a passion well up from his soul each time Johnathan touched her skin. She didn’t even hardly know of him. As far as she knew, Johnathan had helped Mina get something for her family, a bracelet of some sort. What she didn’t know was that Lucien had nearly risked his life to deliver it to Johnathan. The Luna Bracelet, a treasure buried deep beneath the sea, was lost to her family for years. It was very special, and as Mina described it, her grandmother had let it go to the sea.

Johnathan, wanting to please his new love, decided to help her find it. He asked for Lucien’s help. The Atlantean went through many troubles and trials to find it, but when he finally retrieved it, he was disappointed. Crushed, in fact. Johnathan, when prompted about the story of finding it by the eager and ecstatic Mina, used every detail Lucien told him, but referred to himself. Love did strange things to friendships, and Lucien now was no stranger to this truth. He knew the time would come soon, since Mina and Johnathan had been courting for a little over a year now. In the little time Johnathan still found for his friend, he explained his miraculous plans to propose.

“You know the volcano? The dormant one that’s just up the side of my village? I’ll take her there. My father gave me every instruction on this. Look.” Johnathan took out a small necklace, made with incredibly thin lining. On it hung a small silver emblem, a gray heart.

“Silver?” Lucien asked, starting to take the item, but flinching back as Johnathan drew it in his fist. He wasn’t surprised, for the mountain brimmed with silver deposits.

“Yes. Pure silver. It’s… my heart. Lucien. I love her. And I’m going to propose. I’m not afraid. I will do it. Today, my friend.”

“Today?” Lucien rasped; his heart shattering as his friend spoke. He struggled to sound excited. He swallowed every urge. He had wanted to speak to Johnathan for a long time now, but he feared. He slowly stood up, extending a hand towards the land longingly. “You…”

“Johnathan?” The soft female voice echoed out. Plop. Johnathan whirled, his breath held up within the confines of his throat at the name, spotting Mina approaching, a smile on her face. “What are you doing out here all the time?”

“I… Mina, what are you doing out here?” Johnathan turned to see, but no, Lucien was gone. He and his friend had made a pact never to reveal to anyone about their relationship. No matter what. Little did Lucien know, that Johnathan had revealed multiple spells to Mina, telling her about anything.

“Coming to find you.” She replied, sitting beside him, slightly looking into the water, but mostly her lover’s eyes. “Do you want to go now? Didn’t you want to take me somewhere?”

“Yes… of course.” Johnathan took her hand, smiling as he slipped the necklace into his back pocket. “Come on, we’re going to visit the volcano today.”

Jealousy burned into him, a passion unknown stirring deep within his heart. How dare Johnathan take her? It wasn’t fair. Of course not. Life as an Atlantean prince was never fair. He watched them go, still fighting the battle within his soul, pushing the angry, bitter feelings of resentment down. Then, he found it couldn’t remain this way. No, he had to stop this! But they were gone, and he couldn’t set foot on land. How would he- then it came to him. Of course. The only way… he would cause Johnathan to realize he had to speak with him. Now. He slipped underwater without a ripple.

Here, the way to activate the volcano that had been dormant for so long. Of course, after a small shake, everything would be fine, wouldn’t it? Of course it would. Yes, it was easy enough. In fact, it only took a few moments. The volcano was no longer dormant, and soon it erupted. Somehow, a feeling hit Lucien moments after he had set the wheels in motion. A horrible, sinking feeling filled his heart to the brim. Something had gone terribly wrong.

It was weeks later that Lucien learned of the horrible mistake. He had committed murder. The truth hit him like a ton of bricks. Gossip traveled of how Johnathan had died by falling into the volcano, and now Mina strayed to a life alone. Weeks later, people in the village felt a strange shudder near the cove as the ocean raged. Little did they know of the spell performed, and the twist the future would contain, for water and for fire...

The New Beginning

Awaken…

His eyes fluttered open, and he sat up, his clothes ruffling in the gray piles of ash. As if he were a babe, his mouth twisted, trying to form words that came out as jibberish.

Stand…

Again, a small stream of jibberish erupted from his lips as he found himself compelled to obey. Slowly, he forced his legs straight, a tall, strong figure.

Speak, my servant…

“Wh… who am I?” he asked, holding a hand to his head, completely unable to remember any past thoughts.

You are Pyralis. My servant and you shall serve me as I ask. You will not question. I have brought you here to do as I command. You are Pyralis. The voice regretted to add that Pyralis was once Johnathan. Before he died… those many years ago.

“Pyralis…” The figure glanced down at his hand, feeling a surge of power pulse through it. “I see…”

Now go, my servant. Do my will.

“Yes, my master. I will do as you wish.” As the presence looming near Pyralis slowly lifted, he glanced down at his appearance, taking in every intricate print on his fingers, the lush look in his eyes reflected from the dirty pool of soot water. “… Who am I? Why am I here?”

Threads:

Battle: N/A

Crossroads: Wishes Have Aftershock Tremors *progress*

Fiction: The Wishmaster *completed*