The Phoenix's Legion

Wealth, fame, love, my mortal life never offered me any of these things, I was just a slave. From birth I was destined to serve and kneel, I was taken from my mother's arms and raised to be a slave soldier, I have no memories of her voice or her face, how could I? Most would think that I would hold on to my roots but I never did, family, bloodlines, unity, all nothing but words with no relevance to me.

When I was ten I killed for the first time, from there on I was trained in one discipline after another until I had become the perfect soldier at the age of 15. I had no pride, no home, no people, not even a name, so I never had a d.e.s.i.r.e to be free, what could I even do with such a thing? On my 19th birthday my master decided to give me a gift, a room full of women and a guitar to entertain myself with, I've been a slave all my life so I know what this was, my master simply wanted me to i.m.p.r.e.g.n.a.t.e these women so that he could have more of me, slave soldiers were also very profitable breeding tools. I fulfilled the task and I suppose it wasn't the worst task for a slave to be given, the only downside was that I would never get to see my children but that really didn't matter to me if am being honest.

The one thing I did grow to cherish was the guitar, the music and all the harmony that came with it blessed me with an escape from the constant violence, before I knew it, the damn thing actually started to bring me peace. I became so talented with the instrument that my own master would have me play for him and his guest's, sometimes even for the other slaves under him, by the age of 30 I was the greatest slave soldier in the land as well as the most talented musician, well, one of the most talented musicians. One day my master called for me to play my music, the years had not been kind to him so he wished to sell me to a rich relative of his, all knew about my talent for killing so I had a pretty good idea why he called for me. My master sat next to the young slave master, in front of them where three albino warriors on their knees, these three where famously known as pale trinity, my master turned to me and said, "these three things are your children".

The young slave master wanted me to kill these three albinos to prove my resolve to kill without question, there skin made them outcasts to all, including their fellow slaves. The slave master had ordered me to break my guitar and use one of its strings to strangle the pale trinity, the pale trinity had gone against their masters wishes and attempted to flee, it took hundreds of soldiers to apprehend them, they clearly inherited their father's greatest talent. I smashed my guitar and approached the pale trinity, a small group of albino warriors made up of one male and two females, powerful and nameless like me. I don't know why but when I looked into their eyes I didn't see pale freaks, I didn't see slaves, I saw myself, all three of them had my eyes, it was in that moment I had grown a pride that went beyond my love for music, I had fallen in love with them. I did not know them nor did I raise them but they were mine, I wanted to name them like my master named his slave wives, I wanted to teach them how to play the guitar I wanted to spend more time with them and yet this young master expects me to kill them?

In that moment I had felt an anger I had never felt towards a master before, one minute I was looking at the pale trinity and before I knew it I was strangling the young slave master, his soldiers stabbed me and tried to pull me off him but to no avail. I overpowered them, I was completely possessed by a rage that refused to release me until I finally heard the young slave master take his final breath. My master screamed at the sight of this and called all his men to kill me and the pale trinity, so, I released my children and the four of us armed ourselves and readied for battle. I expected us to die but one wave after another came at us and wave after wave fell, after hours of fighting my masters room was bloody and full of corpses, I grabbed my master as a hostage and made our way outside.

I knew what happened to slave's who killed their masters but I was overwhelmed by this d.e.s.i.r.e to protect my children, I was no longer acting on sense but on impulse, an impulse that my own parents probably never gave me. As we made it outside I saw a young boy with piercing red eyes look at me with this dark smile on his face, approaching behind this boy was a young man with long grey hair, the boy turned to him and said, "I told you he was good, and with the pale trinity he's even better, I was planning on buying them from the dying slave owner but it looks like that won't be necessary".

The grey haired man offered me a gift, a gift that I could share with my children all I had to do was swear loyalty to him and aid him in reclaiming his throne. A slave knows nothing of freedom but once its offered who would be so fool hearted to reject it, I accepted the man's offer and become like him, red eyed and thirsty for human blood, me and my children drank the blood of the slave master and went on to kill every slave master we could find. The grey haired man was Raziel and the boy Damian, they left me to rule the lands and build an army of vampires for Raziel to use for the battle to come, I did as commanded and built his army, I ruled the lands that for so long I walked on as a slave, I raised my children and even got to name them. It was funny to so many who would see me for hours thinking of their names but eventually I found the perfect names for them, I named the boy Bale and the two girls Hannah and Lunar.

This may not exactly be the most dramatic tale you have heard but truth of it is that since gaining my immortality life had changed for the better, my master had returned pleased for I had his army ready to do his beading and when he called to me he had realized that I carried no name despite me naming my children. My master looked to me with a smile and named me Alaric, I then joined my lords inner circle of vampire's and headed for the great castle at the centre of the great land, the battle we found there was harsh brutal and quite honestly terrifying but I suppose one who saw it end in glory shouldn't complain, even if the victory orphaned our king.

I have enjoyed this walk down memory lane, which is why I don't wish to speak about the battle between the vampires and the cursed monsters that were once Raziel's keen, that my friend is a horror that only few are brave enough to speak of, and sadly I am not one of those brave few.