nireus rp backstory

Nireus Fraser was born into a middle-class family, neither poor nor rich. He had a normal childhood, making friends, attending school, so on and so forth. His town was relatively small, and the community was close-knit. Many of the members knew each other well, and Nireus lived his life in peace.

He lived with his parents and his grandfather. He didn't have any extended family that he knew of. His father's name was Aniket, his mother's name was Rosa, and his grandfather's name was Reed.

Aniket was a secretary working under a large corporation, while Rosa was the librarian of the local library. Reed stayed at home, being a veteran of the Human-Elemental War, and took care of Nireus.

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"Grampa?"

A young Nireus tugged at Reed's sleeve, eyes filled with an innocent curiosity.

"What is it, boy?" Reed said, his voice gruff and betraying the slightest hint of weariness.

"What was the war like?"

"..."

Reed paused. The war...

Old memories washed over him. Memories of what once was.

Surging floods, burning flames, howling winds. The clash of metal against metal, man against spirit. Hundreds of lives lost in battles waged for years...

Reed stood with a vacant look in his eyes. Nireus looked on in slight confusion.

Reed steadies himself.

"...It was a mistake."

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"You can't just say that!"

"What do you mean? Are people too soft to handle a bit of the truth?!"

Aniket sighed in frustration. Reed was a handful. Despite his old age, Reed's mind remained sharp. A photographic memory does that to people, it seems.

While this allowed Reed to function without much intervention, this also meant that he was prone to blunt remarks regarding his thoughts on the spirits.

Of these remarks, some of the more memorable ones would be:

"Why are the spirits so shocked over the killings recently when they were more than willing to do the same to us in the war?"

"No, I'm not getting rid of my rapier just because it belonged to a spirit. That spirit is dead now, and if the elementals' records are to be trusted, he has no surviving family. It will stay here, with me."

And, most recently:

"The spirits start a war with us and force sanctions upon humanity, all while claiming the moral high ground...Is it any wonder why some people are feeling rebellious?"

Reed stood defiantly over Aniket. The two lock eyes, eyes flashing with anger.

Aniket finally slumps over.

"Just...don't say it in front of them. They're already uncomfortable enough with a veteran living next to them."

Reed scoffs.

"What, are they afraid that I'm going to sneak over in the dead of night and slit their throats? I'm in my late 60's, for god's sake!"

"No! It's just...it seems indecent to talk about that sort of thing..."

Reed eyes his son incredulously.

"And now we're sweeping things under the rug. Excellent."

In the background, Rosa looks upon the scene, amused. The two always argued like this...

Nireus is by her side, also watching the spectacle. Looking down at her son, Rosa runs her hands through his murky green hair.

"Don't mind them, Nireus."
"Nireus."

"Hmm? What's up, gramps?"

Reed looks at Nireus. The boy has grown.

"Come here. I need to show you something."

Nireus frowns, but follows Reed anyways.

The duo step into the backyard. The sun sits high up in the sky, shining brightly.

"You've...really grown up, Nireus."

Nireus pauses. What's with the sudden sentimentality?

"When your father was young, I wasn't there to raise him, not when I was out in the war. That responsibility fell to your grandmother..."

Nireus speaks up.

"Dad doesn't talk about her much. Is this what you brought me out to talk about?"

"Partially. Your grandmother served as a nurse during the war. She worked away from the fighting, but the spirits kept pushing through the territory, into the heart of. One day, they were fighting at the village's doorstep. One of the spirits set off a huge fire."

Nireus had a sinking feeling. He knew where this was going...

"It drove back the soldiers and broke their formation. Reports said that it was absolute chaos. And while the soldiers were either burning or fleeing, the elemental laughed. He laughed as the village was consumed by the flames..."

Reed's voice falters for a moment. He regains his bearings, then continues.

"It took three days for the flames to die down. Two more to recover her body."

Reed falls silent. Nireus is as well. What can he possibly say?

"Your father was one of the few who survived. He, as well as the other children, were sent off as soon as the battle first broke out. Aniket never had any details on her death. I didn't tell him."

"I didn't want him to grow up hating the elementals. I know I seem harsh when I'm talking about them, but in truth, the war was horrible on both sides. It was a mistake."

"Why are you telling me this?" Nireus asks.

"Because you need to know. If I told your father, he wouldn't forgive me. Finding out that I lied to him for this long, and that the ones he worked so hard to support were the ones responsible for his mother's death...I worry about what he might do."

"And because you need this."

Reaching down to his side, Reed grasps the hilt of a rapier, still inside its sheath. With a pull, he unsheathes it, the blade coming out smoothly and easily.

He holds the sword out, it's figure in full display. The blade itself is straight, sharpened and honed to a razor sharp edge. Thin enough to reach through small cracks in plate mail, but sturdy enough to parry and dent steel.

Its crossguard is delicate and intricate, designed with both beauty and practicality in mind. A small green gem is embedded in its center.

"I want to pass this on to you."

"B-but...why? Isn't this yours?" Nireus stammers.

Reed's eyes move down to the ground. The memories are coming back once more...

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During the Human-Elemental War...

The time has come. The two armies stand, face to face, thousands of humans, dozens of elementals, fighting for their lives. Their orders are clear; hold the line, no matter what. Break through the enemy defense, no matter the cost.

Bodies lay piled across the battlefield, though most are human. Winds ravage the landscape, flashes of flame rush through the ranks, and water surges to drown those unlucky enough to be in its path.

And yet the humans keep fighting on, formations held steady. Slowly, they begin to push the spirits back.

The few magic users on the human side are grouped in clusters, serving as shock troops while the other troops gather around them in lines for protection. Meanwhile, the spirits are spread out, their formation in tatters.

Despite this, the spirits wreak havoc on the human troops. Their magic outclasses that of the human mages, lightning flashing through the gusts of wind, ice cutting through pillars of water. It is clear that even if the humans manage to push the elementals out, the cost will be catastrophic.

There are only four elementals left, now, and several dozen humans. Two water elementals, one fire elemental, and one wind elemental.

The four dance around the remaining human forces, weaving in and out, using their magic to protect themselves. Ice was used to form barriers, fire was used to warp and distort enemy armor and weapons, and whirlwinds deflected arrow volleys.

But the battle has taken its toll. The group had been waging their campaign for several weeks, fighting long, drawn-out engagements for hours on end. Their magic was faltering.

The water spirits fell first, their ice barriers finally collapsing from the strain of a warhammer blow. They perished quickly.

The fire elemental was not so lucky. Surrounded by wind mages, he slowly suffocated as his flames were snuffed out.

But he would not fall without a struggle. With his last breath, he let loose a pillar of flame, consuming the mages and taking them down with him.

And finally, the wind elemental.

He dashed through the battlefield, the wind kicking up dust and dirt into the eyes of his foes, his rapier but a flash of silver. He cuts down the humans, each strike as deadly as they are beautiful.

While the spirit is distracted by a group of swordsman, a lone crossbowman takes aim at his green frame.

He holds his breath, and pulls the trigger.

The spirit hears the tell-tale swish of a crossbow arrow, and quickly throws up a gust of wind in an attempt to deflect the arrow.

It isn't enough.

With a cry, the spirit falls. The gust of wind partially broke the arrow's impact, but it still landed into his chest with a sickening thunk. The other soldiers are blown back by the gust, and are smashed against the ground, killing them instantly.

All is still.

The crossbowman looks around.

Nothing but bodies strewn about. Elementals covered in countless, grievous wounds. Humans charred, frozen, and suffocated. Bits and pieces of broken armor.

And in the middle of it all, two lone figures.

The human walks forwards, stepping over the bodies of his enemies and comrades. He looks down at the spirit.

Short, messy green hair. Pale white skin where his armor had been ripped off. The spirit's eyes had no hint of emotion in them. Just acceptance of his fate.

The crossbowman pauses and considers his options. He sets his crossbow on the ground and lies down by the spirit's side.

With a grunt, the spirit yanks the arrow out of his chest, gritting his teeth.

"You should have left that in," the human says.

"Hggh...does it matter?" the spirit replies, "I'm dying anyway..."

The crossbowman sighs. He had a point.

"What...what is your name, human?"

"...Fraser. Reed Fraser."

--------

The two former enemies lay down among the bodies of their comrades. From a distance, it would look like they were dead. But they weren't.

They were talking.

They talked about many things. About their families. Loved ones. Why they enlisted. What they worked as before the war began.

But as time passed, the spirit's breathing becomes more and more haggard. Each word takes even greater effort to let out.

Suddenly, the spirit keels over, coughing out blood.

"M-my time has come, it seems..."

Reed quickly gets up, only for the spirit to wave him off.

"No, no. It's fine. Leave me here."

"...At least give me your name," Reed says softly.

The spirit looks up at the emerald-haired human.

"Huh...I never gave you my name..."

The spirit's eyes close. His breathing slows.

Soon, all is silent.

He's gone.

--------

"I took this blade from a fallen spirit. It would be a disservice to his honor if I let it waste away in some crate in a basement."

"Then why not give it to Dad?"

"He isn't a fighter. Aniket's also not a fan that it belonged to an elemental. He'd probably cart it off to some museum, the daft -- You know what? Nevermind. Just take the rapier, boy."

"U-uh...alright..."

--------

The days pass by, filled with peace and prosperity. Reed trains Nireus in the way of the sword, imparting knowledge from his many years. Aniket and Rosa work ever harder, keeping the family in good condition financially.

But, all things must come to an end.

Reed passes away peacefully, surrounded by his loved ones.

This was only the start...

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"Aniket? Aniket! What happened-"

Rosa falls to the ground, an arrow lodged to her throat. She lands next to her husband's corpse, blood pooling around her.

Three figures stand above them, arguing in hushed voices.

"This wasn't part of the plan-"

"Why would you rush to do something like-"

"I was panicked, all right?!"

The tallest one among them curses loudly.

"Damn you all! This was supposed to be easy!"

The creak of a door interrupts him.

"Mom? Dad?"

Nireus's eyes land on the visceral scene.

Time seems to slow to a halt. Nireus can barely breathe. All he can see is red.

The three thieves can't scream as the air is ripped from their very lungs.

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Several days later. Nireus's POV.

"For what it's worth, Nireus, I'm sorry."

"..."

I ignore my neighbor's attempt at comforting me. What good can he do, anyway?

My eyes are drawn upwards to my parents' casket. The casket is plain and unassuming, and they're set to be buried right next to grandfather. Treasured belongings are placed onto the casket to be buried with them.

I feel sick to my stomach just looking at this scene. I turn around, and walk away.

I push past the other grievers. They don't matter. Probably just trying to see if they can pawn one of their belongings off their corpses.

My mind races. I feel like a thousand blades are digging into my soul.

Tears begin to run down my face as I break out into a run. People murmur and whisper to themselves as they see me rush past.

I run, and I run, and I run. To where, I don't know. I just want to leave...

After what seems like hours, I finally collapse onto the ground. By now, I just feel numb.

My parents...they were fools. They let themselves get taken advantage of. Those thieves, they were friends with them.

And now they're all dead.

I won't let this happen again.

Never again...