This is a story from long ago, before time itself and the world had even established a place in this reality. It is a tale of the Goddesses anger, selfishness and self sacrifice, a tale of a sacrificial punishment that was heard generation after generation in the form of a legend...until the time came for it to take me in its talons.
I often lay awake at night to stare at the Twin Moons—at the sisters—hoping to all hopeless odds that the fate carried through my bloodline would not have me as its ender. I hoped for it to wait, for it to possibly pass over me like it had done to millions of my ancestors before me. I thought it had spared me...
But I was wrong...
Everything was chaos. Fire burned towards the night, reaching flaming tendrils for the sky. It basked a dangerous red glow on the surroundings: to every branch, leave and petal—a wave of heated solid destruction. Crashes boom as scorched trees collapse in mighty explosions. The smoke was a curtain of red and black, a choking smoke grasping innocent throats. Heat burned at skin, creeping up bodies, burning faces, burning frightful eyes, burning all hope. Shrill screams pierce the murderous night. The small feet of the Teensies, so desperate, so panicked, so filled with fear, dash through the draping arms of hellish fire that stretch horrifically for the moons like a demon of death—ever growing higher. Obviously, some would not survive the night.
A howling gale roared through the trees, powerfully sweeping innocent victims off their feet and into the flaming fray, circling the area like a rampaging herd, tearing trees from their roots with warning howls. Trees of burning fire were tossed to the skies in utter destruction. Once green leaves are burned to ash and carried heartlessly by the raging hurricane to the sky.
The Twin Moons pierce the deadly night, their moonlight raying down upon the unfolding scene of pure terror. Their light is ever so unnaturally bright, intense, and green—blinding. They seem to scream, to mourn, to cry for the chosen one to accept her depressing fate. The moonlight is their streaming tears; the howling gale is their threatening shrieks. Within their confines of the night, they glow brighter than they have ever done before. Tonight would be her living last. Tonight was the night of the prophecy.
Within a circular clearing, with its grass tainted with embers, were two figures.
One was in the very centre in all her beautiful glory, violet hair whipping wildly about her by the encircling tornado. Once emerald eyes that represented the lively forests were a heart wrenching white, magically glowing as the chaos of destruction worsened. Their glow lit her elegant features: her pointed nose, her slender cheeks, her slightly open black lips—casting chilling shadows across her young face. The purple swirls that had curled around her skin glowed pure white in the black of the night. She floated a metre off the ground, struggling as if held by unseen restraints. Her slender arms were opened wide. Her grunts foretold her pain.
The other one could barely stand as he tried to move towards her. His golden hair was flying wildly in the wind, but he does not care as he puts a gloved fist before his eyes and keeps reaching for her. The glow from his friend is ethereal and overwhelming, blinding, terrifying. Black eyes reflect the surrounding destroying flames, making him grit his teeth at seeing Teensies fall among those fires, hearing their innocent dying screams, yet unable to help them. His red hood gets caught in the gale, choking him as it latches on—trying to hold him back from her. His yellow shoes shakily take step after step. He forces himself gradually closer to his friend. Such resistance and internal struggle shone in his eyes, such solid determination, yet he had never seen her like this before...and it secretly made him hesitate.
"Guardian, this has to happen. This has to be done—it is my destiny...Just as you have yours."
He stopped, one eye squinting against the dreadful wind and light created by her magic. Why did she sound so different? The tone of her voice sounded powerful, like a Goddess.
"No, you're wrong. This can't be your only path!"
Even through her mystical agony, a different pain is evident in her words, "You are making this harder than it needs to be—"
"It can't end like this, not after everything we've been through to save this world!" He takes a shaky step forward as he yells disbelievingly above the wind. "To just let you die—like a worthless pawn in the chest game that is this war." Another step follows, then another. "To just let a friend like you go, like you meant nothing to me?" He stumbled right before her, eyes ablaze as he hissed, "In every sense that you're asking me to stand by and watch...you're asking me to kill you."
"My fate was said and sealed in stone long ago, just as the prophecy of Polokus foretold before we were even born."
"There must be another option. There just must...I can't..."
He suddenly screwed his eyes shut in distress. Despite trying to hold it back, a single tear glistened in his eyes and sparkled against the amber fires. Why was she just giving up? Why was she giving up on the world...on him?
"Guardian...Rayman, I truly am sorry that this is hurting you so. But even you, as much as you try to deny my fate, know that there is nothing you can do to stop me, to save me, to prevent the events that time itself has carved into my very own flesh and blood. This is what I was born to do...just as you had been born to be our Guardian."
Rayman's eyes all of a sudden sharpened in boiling hatred.
"Guardian? Oh, how I despise that title. Don't call me that—No! Don't say it. Just don't—I don't want to hear it. How can I even hold that title when I can't even save a friend?" He interrupted her when she tried to argue and she knew it was of no use.
"You have a good heart, Rayman. It will always be in the right place," She bent down through the pain, lovingly placing a hand to his chin. One other shaking hand tenderly brushes above his breaking heart. A caring smile lights her lips. Her next words—her last words—were vanishing whispers on the wind. "...And it will always be in that place where you will find me."
As those sincere ghostly words were breathed, the female took a sharp intake of breath.
Her whole body seemed to freeze in place. Her muscles turned rigid and her eyes went wide when it felt like freezing liquid magic was coursing through her veins rather than her blood. Agony evidently shone in her glowing eyes when tears of pure light trailed down her cheeks, falling from her innocent eyes—drifting up to the moons. Ever so slowly, she began to fade away.
"NO!" He screamed. Casting all caution to the wind he grabs her lovely hand. It feels ever so solid in his gloved fingers, but was cold and lifeless. Against the vicious winds he was almost thrown aside from her, but he holds firm, if only it means she would not disappear from his grasp. A whisper of utter despair leaves his lips, "I would be lost without you..."
He was becoming hysterical and he knew it. His breathing was fast and sharp. He couldn't do this. He couldn't watch her die. But he had to. He had no choice but to watch, to watch those parted lips give silent painful cries as her fate was sealed. Eyelids slammed shut in utter despair as his crystal tears fell faster.
A final smile brimming with warmth graced her lips for the Guardian as her body, starting from the tips of her hair, began fading away. The vanishing parts lost all colour—spreading further like a murderous disease. The parts of her that were lost were mere outlines, her very existence ceasing to exist. She was going—leaving him.
Onyx eyes widened. The feminine hand beneath his fingertips was also consumed. His breathing caught when his hand horrifyingly seeped through the outlines of her lost hand.
Only when her physical body was fully lost did her outline then magically lift to the beckoning Twin Moons.
Everything suddenly halted and became tensely silent, all except for a gentle breeze rustling through the remaining trees. Debris from the destructive occurrence was the only evidence that the horror had even occurred. Destroying flames abruptly distinguished. The howling hurricane calmed. Everything went deathly still.
All of a sudden thunder rumbled in the distance, grey clouds of misery obscuring the skies and the Twin Moons that had finally revived their normal pearly glow. Rain began to drizzle across the wounded land, washing ash and blood away.
But Rayman did not feel the chill in the stormy air, or the cold wetness of the rain as it pounded against his skin, or even his own mind skidding to a shocked halt. All he could hear were her last words repeating themselves, over and over, fainter and fainter, and his pounding heart, over and over, louder and louder.
With no wind to push him back he fell onto his hands and knees in complete aghast. Had it really just happened? Had...she just...
The screams of the fleeing Teensies were replaced with sounds of confusion. All their black beady eyes slowly turned to their Guardian, who was frightfully motionless in the middle of the clearing, feeling the atmosphere of terrible loss emanating from the hero. Some turned with saddened eyes to each other with expressions of sympathy. Some removed their hats of many colours, shapes and sizes to show respect for their Guardian's mourning of a lost comrade.
Around Rayman the hundreds of Teensies agonisingly slowly trudged closer, halting considerately metres away to give the grieving male some space. At least they allowed him some form of private comfort. They were all whispering in concern to each other, but Rayman could hear nothing but the one thought repeating itself over and over inside his mind.
She's gone...Ly is gone.
Clenching his fists, he glared at the two full moons. His tearful eyes were sharp, hateful, determined. He swiftly raised a fist to the sky. A furious growl left him—an eternal oath, "I swear I'll find a way, Ly. I will bring you back—even if it's the last thing I do!"
Every Teensie jumped as the raised fist plummeted to the ground. The echoing boom it made sealed his furious oath. The enraged power behind it left a mighty crack in the earth. All the witnesses were left trembling in wonder at the static energy crackling in the air. Rayman had sworn a serious oath to not only himself, but also the deities of this world.
The world was safe.
He was safe.
But Ly was gone...
And he would get her back.
Oh, how I miss him so. It has been many years since that fateful day and he has physically matured to a very handsome teenager, one that I wish I had not been forced to leave with all of my heart. Even now, five years later from that awful tragedy in his life, he still mourns for me. I can not say that it does not touch my heart when I see he is still trying to discover a way to bring me back, or that it does not break my heart when I watch him shed a tear.
But as I already stated, this was my fate and it was sealed from the first day Polokus had envisioned it and written it in history. It was an unstoppable prophecy from the Goddesses.
My story is over and I accept that. Yet, he still searches for a way to get to me—which pains me so. I watch him search across the lands, searching far and wide, until he reaches a long forgotten swamp.
And that is where his story begins.
xXEnd of ChapterXx
PLEASE READ! Okay, now I said this is based in Rayman 3—which it is—but you maybe a little confused. I will clear it up now: I never focus solely on one game; I create a world using a variety of games from the series, so it is a mixed game story. You will understand as the story progresses as you see how I have intertwined the games. THERE ARE NO VILE RABBIDS! They are not in this story, so don't worry. ^^
Obviously, the oldest proper game was Rayman 3 where he looks like he has grown up much more. That and there are not enough stories for the Rayman 3 world in my opinion, so here is one from me.
Please review and I hope you like it. :D