[Theme song for the fanfic: Lies - Evanescence]
Tranquility filled the air within Geffen. Famous for its understanding and high level theory of magic, every parents sent their children to learn magic. Many students failed, many succeeded. This is where the story begin.
Daylight was among the town, glistening its rays along the small, thin trees that rest along the corners. Various people walked along the sidewalk, conversing with one another. A baby wolf's bark echoed through the streets, irritating many of the people as travelers passed by. It was just another day at Geffen.
Kids ran through the streets, waving their new spell books in the air. One particular boy did not follow the others, but walked his own path, followed by a group of older children. The boy had long black hair that swayed along with the breeze. He was dressed in a black robe, carrying the spell book underneath his arm. His name was Dragus Tiniroil.
The young boy gazed up at the sky, muttering with distain, "The school discussed about the gods that we serve under. I do wonder why? They don't show up to do anything, yet they get credit for anything that is done." He sighed, "I suppose it cannot be helped. The people do need emotional attachment. However, I am learning the arts of magic further than the other students." He smirked, "One day, I will challenge the gods." He narrowed his eyes at the crowd of people, "If they show up." Dragus then pondered, "I wonder if a mortal can drive gods to serve him. I may as well give that a test. I will learn every magic spell in the book."
Dragus Tiniroil was an excellent student who had many friends. He was born as a noble, due to his family line's phenominal powers. Many of the townfolk respected the Tiniroil.
When Dragus entered the house, two figures were at the door. One was a lovely young lady, bearing long black hair and sea blue eyes. She wore a finely threaded robe, extra cloth hanging along the sleeves and moving down the curves. The other was a man with short black hair and a goatee, with green eyes. He wore a black robe with a rune covered garment over the shoulders. They were Dragus's parents, who warmly greeted him, getting him ready for dinner. Dragus continued to ponder over the Norse Gods and asked himself of becoming a god of all of them. After he had his dinner, the young boy went to sleep.
From within the bowels of Nifilheim, a being listened to Dragus's thoughts, contemplating it. The silhoutte gave a cackle, before the deep and fierce voice state, "I've found my bond..."
Within the night time, the child was asleep, mumbling to himself. Dragus had a smile on his face within the dream, imagining himself plunging a sword into Odin's heart.
~ Dragus... ~
The boy cringed a bit, mumbling incoherent words. He turned to the other side of the bed.
~ Wake up, child... ~
Soon, Dragus awoken from his slumber, mumbling once again. This time, it was able to be understood, "Who-who called?"
~ Come to Glaist Heim, west from your town. ~
"Who are you?"
~ Your answer to killing the gods. ~
The boy blinked, then he immediately got out of his bed. He equipped his robes and made his way to leave the house. He gazed back at his pants, hearing their sleeping noise. He creeped out of the house, then made his way west from the town. He passed through the bridge containing porings, willows, and other sorts. A kobold tribe spotted the boy, but their instincts told them not to strike him as they would do any other wonderer. Dragus gazed at the kobolds, smirking before passing through.
Eventually, Dragus made it to the gloomy castle, known as Glaist Heim. Mist covered the dead world, filled with rotted vegetation. The bushes were filled with thorns, and screams were heard through the path. Something in Dragus kept him unphased by the creams. Perhaps it was the calling that drew him closer.
Dragus reached the end of the path, gazing at the demons that lurked within the castle. All of them bowed before his presence. The boy was confused, "Why are you all bowing to me?"
~ Because we will become one, young child. ~
"...Become one, with who? Who are you?" asked the child, gazing at the various monsters that surrounded him. Many of them ranged from Khalitzburgs to the Abyssmal Knights.
~The Dark Lord, child.. ~ The voice finally revealed itself infront of the boy. Towering even the massive Abyssmal Knight was a thick clothed monster. Shrouded by the shadows, his skull decorated form stood befor the boy. He gazed down at Dragus, "...Are you afraid of what you see?"
"...For some odd reason, no." The boy smiled at the figure, actually impressed.
"Easier for acceptance. I heard your contemplating of starting war with the gods. I am here to offer it to you. My form is weakened within this world, but I offer these monsters to serve you as well as the bond for exchange of devotion to ending the gods and bringing Ymir to us..." The Dark Lord smirked at the child, accessing the youth.
"...I hate the fact that the people worship such beings. I should be ruling them. I will gladly accept! I want the power more than anything!" shouted the furious child.
"Take this then..." The Dark Lord drew his hand forward, radiating a black glow. From the glow appeared a small dagger with a tooth shaped blade. "It is the Grimtooth, pull the tip to your chest, then run it along the forehead in a circle."
Dragus gazed at the blade, taking it in his hand. He awed at the blade itself. However, he feared of bringing harm to his own body. Yet, the desire to destroy the gods would require to take in pain. Without a word, the boy ran the tip of the Grimtooth through the chest, then he marked the forehead in a circle. "...Done."
"Repeat after me: I am you."
"I am you."
"And you are I."
"And you are I." Then the boy started to radiate with a green aura, gazing at the color, but his voice joined in unison with the Dark Lord.
"We are One."
After the ceremony, Dragus received a Baphomet Jr as his servant who he rightfully named Garmyth.
Over the past weeks, Dragus's parents became worried about him as he became more brooding, less of an appitite, and speaking more cryptic.
One day, Dragus approached his mother's room, smiling at her, "Mom, I am curious, why do we serve Odin and the others as our gods?"
She smiled at Dragus, quite glad that he was talking again. She reached over to ruffle his hair, "That is a silly question, my son. Odin and the other gods are who protect us, keeping us safe from demons far beyond." She sighed, "Lately, the war aongst those have grown fierce."
"Mom, there's one thing that I find interesting about your reasoning."
She blinked, cocking her head to the side as she smiled, "What is that, Dragus?"
The young boy extended his hand, allowing the Grimtooth to form within his hand fluidly. The blade ran against his mother's back, striking the center of her heart. "...The protection from demons is meaningless.." He gazed at the blood soaked blade.
His mother gazed at her son in horror as she died. As she opened her mouth, blood poured. She was reaching towards his cheek, careessing it one more time before she collapsed to the ground.
Dragus's father came into the room to witness his wife's demise. He saw the blade in Dragus's hand, "Dragus! What has gotten into you?"
"...You will all get in the way soon. It is time to end it before it starts." Dragus smirked, gazing at his father.
"I was afraid that I would have to discipline you one day, child. However, you lead me no choice. You'll remember who taught you the magic that you possess." He drew both hands forward, murmuring, "King of all Gods from another land, I summon your power. Turn the wicked into dust, as you smite him with your divine righteousness. The blade as your guide and your fury as your strength, send the darkness into the abyss!" The magician extended both hands forward, forming a lage ball, crackling ferociously and chaotically. He brought both hands into the air, "Jupiter Thunder!" A loud boom echos through the wind as twelve lightning bolts strike down at Dragus. The destruction within the room forced the bed and all of the accessories to fly back, destroyed in the wrath of magic. The smoke cleared to reveal the unscatched Dragus. The boy smiled at his father.
"How!? How could you!?" the alarmed old magician asked.
The smile never left the boy, but his voice changed to the unison between him and the Dark Lord, "...We are One. I have merged with the Dark Lord. You stand in my way. Your teachings of magic was useful, but I have more power. Your use is over, father." The boy was engulfed with electricity, then he smirked. He extended his right hand, forming a black ball surrounded by electricity. "Heh heh heh. Tell Tyr that I declare war on the gods." He hurled the ball towards his father, but the ball scattered into three pieces. The first ball landing to the ground in front of his father while the other two landed to the side. As they sunk to the ground, a large hole opened underneath Dragus's father. Electricity escaped the ground, sizzling the body of the old mage. His father was elevated to the air, eyes widen from the intense voltage. To end the pain, three black spikes erupted from the ground, one stabbing through his father's heart while the last two split to stab against the wrists. The results left the older mage under a crucifixation.
Gazing at his fallen father, Dragus smiled in satisfaction, "...Let the war against the gods begin." He turned away from the bloody sight, drawing both hands to the air. His form became enshrouded by a shadow, then he sinked into the ground, disappearing from the house.
When one of the citizens entered the house to see the carnage, a scream was heard, and the entire village was alerted of the event and the missing Dragus. Rumor was that someone came and kidnapped Dragus. But they will find out the truth when it is too late.