Legends of Belariath
Sephiroth
Born to into noble blood, Sephiroth was raised under the roof of his father, Lord Talon Surelia. He spent most of his child hood learning the way of his father in the path of white magic and sticking up for his little human brother, Link. Everyday, Sephiroth was tormented by the town’s folk about his half blood. “You aren’t good enough”, “You are worthless to the Surelia’s”, and “You should just die boy”. It was a tremendously horrible life for Sephiroth. He grew up thinking his life was worth nothing. By the age of 5 Sephiroth had managed to learn the basics of the Clerical ways his father had mastered over his life. His family, for the most part was loved and sought as a gift to the town. His father became a high priest and was looked upon as one of the most respected men in all of Centario (Sephiroth’s home village). But there was one man whom had taken hatred to heart for the Surelia family. One man whom had thirst for Lord Talon’s blood for many years. That man was Grylic Zyphon.
It wasn’t long before word of Talon’s success to the town was delivered to him and Grylic, in his usual flamboyant style, got together a small army of men and attacked the town, killing off every man, woman, or child that caught eye. The city of Centario had gone up in flames and Sephiroth’s life went from horrible to worse. Slamming at the door, torches thrown into their windows, Sephiroth watched it all unfold, as he stood strong over his brother Link, protecting the one and only person that had any love for him besides his parents. The door had bashed open and as Sephiroth looked up he had seen a face, which will never leave his mind, etched like the mark of a devil, as if it had been engraved into his mind with a stake and nail. Grylic Zyphon sneered down at him and grabbed his mother by her hair, her blonde locks hanging through his fingers and her aqua eyes looked into his with the most terrified look possible by such a beautiful woman. With that Grylic lifted his hand and swatted her to the ground like a worthless wretch that needed termination.
Sephiroth shook with fear as he watched the rest of Grylic’s men hurry into the room and begin destroying everything…he watched as they sheered his sisters clothing and gang raping her in every way they could…he watched as they raped his mother’s headless body after having beheaded her and staked her head on a pole outside…but what hurt him most…was watching them eat the meat of his dead father, sneering and laughing in his face and continuously offered him some. Building a rage Sephiroth watched as his brother Link took his fathers short sword, barely able to keep hold of it due to its size and lunged what he could at Grylic. In an instant, the blade had sliced across the distracted Grylic’s eye, leaving a wide gash about it. Panting and crying, his eyes burning and his body trembling he watched as Grylic lifted high above him as he stood and growled, kicking Link into the wall behind Sephiroth.
Watching in fear he looked up wearily at Grylic, his aqua marine eyes focusing on the tall dark figure…no…not just a figure…a symbol…a symbol of evil…. and also something…much more sinister.
Left with nothing Grylic and his band finally retreated from the dead town and disappeared from sight off into the forest that seemed never ending to the eye. Sephiroth opened his eyes that were once blinded by the smoke and ash of his burning surroundings and stood up…His brother was gone…his sister, mother and father gone as well…disgraced…and damned beyond that of any morality. Narrowing his eyes he shivered and began to cry…not with sobs…but with tears of silence…tears that could only be brought out by the breaking of ones life. His life was far worse than broken…it was destroyed…everything he knew…everything he believed in…taken in one night…and by one man. A small light shimmered off in the distance…then it came closer…and closer…until the figure appeared as a person would…no…not a person…an angel…a winged being of great magical nature. He was scared at first, but only at first…the figure he saw in the dark would prove to be more than what he had prayed to the gods for that night…another chance in life…another chance to take back what’s his from Grylic.
The Goddess, Morpheous, landed beside him, her hands like that of an angels rubbing along his back as she looked into his eyes and spoke with his mind. It was then he heard the words that would change his life forever…”Sephiroth…you want to cry…don’t you?” Sephiroth looked up, his eyes filled with tears as he bit his lower lip to keep from sobbing. “Then go now young one, and learn the ways of the sword. I will grant thee ample life until you have destroyed that heathen. Go now my little Sephiroth…because you are…” her last words seemed to drift passed him without any hint or clue to as what she said. He narrowed his eyes and a bit and repeatedly asked, “What? What did you say?” but it was far to late for the winged figure had let her hand drift off his back, an enchantment drifting into his body as she flew into the air and whispered to his conscience, “You will live till he is dead…may an eternity touch you not until you kill him”, and started back off into the night…into the heavens…perhaps she wasn’t an angel…but it didn’t matter to him. He knew what he had to do. Standing he took hold of his fathers prized sword, the Masamune which he had never used but had told us that one day it would open up a great power in Sephiroth and now…it seemed Sephiroth was in position to leave that opening neglected and started off towards the ocean…. towards the mountains…. and eventually…. in time…towards The Lonely Inn…