IVORY: The age of Gloarian

    She signed up to the competition, despite the repeated, relentless direct orders from her father, the leader of the Hybrid community, that forbade her strictly from doing so. What would people say when they watched Eliana Genova, daughter of Torek Genova, a peaceful leader’s only child manically clawing at her enemies till they surrender? Then again she wasn’t really thinking any of this when she scribbled her name on the piece of parchment in a manner that most certainly wouldn’t fit the standards that her fragile, put together mother had taught her when she was a mere child.      Today, standing at the age of 18, Eliana braided her hair and shoved it in a bun, covering her head with a cloth, concealing any proof of gender identity at all. She dressed in her traditional warrior outfit, a pair of loose, royal blue harem pants, combined with her cropped white tank that provided her the breathing space she needed. Barefoot, she stepped out of her house, sprinting towards the scene of the crime before her parents caught on to her blatant disobedience. She was a careless soul, clumsy, rowdy and frankly not your ordinary girl.      Then again, this wasn’t your ordinary day. It was the one day in the whole year where all of Gloarian got together, Werewolf, Lycanthrope, Batrid, you name it. This was the day of the Grontica. An athletic competition designed to test the ability and growing strength of each category of the Ivory. Set in the largest and only forest ground of Gloarian -a land kindly donated by the Zubrek for the competition to take place- it brings together a community of diverse beings, giving them a sole opportunity to set free and embrace the mild joys of freedom and a bare moment of pride despite being the lowest in the hierarchy.      This year the competition was themed around 1 on 1. Direct flights between the distinct 64 beings of numerous backgrounds and skills, even contrasting ages. A day of joy for the population of the poorest with the richest lives on Zaleon.      Zaleon. The one and only planet of the galaxy of Horex. A planet large enough to fit the entire Milky Way within it. Its creation began with a flame, a single flame out of which the planet was spat. A planet with creatures unknown to mankind, yet similar to them. It’s a planet divided by a system constructed of power. A hierarchy that remained untouched since the beginning. No one dared to question the flame, for the flame was the reason behind their entire existence.      The planet is split into three naturally enormous territories, all belonging to a diverse set of unnatural beings, with a set of unique skills and transformations. The Ivory, settled in the immense space of Gloarian, fitting into the 3rd tier of the hierarchy. In second place and in the middle are the Amethyst, vacated in the lands of Tetra, where the strength builds up. At the top lay the Vermillion, consisting of 6 members on the grounds of Crest, the most powerful beings in all of Zaleon, with skills capable of eradicating the entire existence of the hierarchy itself.      Gloarian contained your set of Ivory supernaturals shown within the pages of a human story book. It was home to most of Gloarian, but the least of Zaleon. These consisted mainly of shifters, out of which the most well known by mankind are the Werewolves and Lycanthrope’s. Then existed the Hybrids, those known to have the forms of a snake and a wolf aside from their human one. The Batrids, the bat shifters. The Centaurs, known to man as half man half horse. The Aquona being the creatures of the sea. The Zubrek, the immortal beings known for their intense healing powers, but a physical form that resembled an octopus despite being the well wishers of Gloarian. Last but not least were the Ivory Witches, those gifted with powers over physical reality - telekinesis amongst other things.     Members of Tetra, also known as the Amethyst, level up simply by the increase in their abstract forces of power. The Fairens -or fairies as humans know them- are the most cunning and mischievous despite their delicate names. The Warmecks are the protectors, the fighters, their skills as sharp as the edge of a sharp knife. They are the wisest, smartest, most calculated of them all, a lot that together could overcome any human war in the span of 5 minutes and ride out on the victorious side. The Yoleg’s are the controllers of nature. The very joysticks that could literally and figuratively throw you into a spiral of turmoil. To finalise the set, enter the Amethyst Witches, an upgrade from the previous kind, having control not only over the physical, but also the mental, capable of reading the human mind and controlling it to their liking. Best to keep them on your good side.      Finally, the members of Vermillion, the last 6 most powerful beings of Zaleon, the last standing beings of Crest. The elite particles that emerged from the flame. With the power of deceit comes the Vermoca, a being capable of taking the form of anything and everything in the existence of Zaleon, a power belonging to only one of the glorious six. The Doirekh’s -made up of three individuals- were the dragon shifters. They are not to be confused as ordinary dragon shifters as their form can expand up to the entire size of Zaleon itself, and shrink to the size of a pea. A sort of sizeable shifter with the benefit of being able to spit fire and burn down civilisations. The last two most potent creatures of Crest were the Vermillion Witches, capable of controlling the metaphysical as well as the physical and mental. Members that can turn back time if that's what it took to undo wrongdoing.      Sculpted with the divisional powers of the human world without the democratic approach of things being voluntary, on Zaleon the only thing that matters is the flame, and the order it sets out. For the greater purpose of any member of Zaleon was to follow the path of the flame. The Ivory had never come face to face with the Amethyst, and the Amethyst had never encountered the Vermillion. To do so would be to go against the natural order of the flame, and to go against the flame was the most feared thing to do in all of Zaleon. It is, after all, the most powerful force amongst them all, it was the force that pushed it all into creation, the mother of all Zaleon.      To live in the lack of power was the way it was meant to be for the Ivory, but it didn't mean they were helpless. For centuries the concept of power was concealed beneath the routines of these creatures. They walked the path suited best for their skills, and once a year, they would gather, and spit out their rage and aggravation at the Grontica, all while celebrating their existence and position within the hierarchy. It was the one day that acknowledged the concept of power and brought together creatures from all kinds of backgrounds to mingle as one. It was an opportunity that Eliana had been training for since a little girl, and it was one she would not miss.      Growing up in the community of Hybrids was all she had known. She was the daughter of a leader, a fierce baby girl that was the first to obtain both her forms at the mere age of 3, whilst all the other members of her community averaged out their shifting between the age range of 8-10. A miracle baby she was, and a ferocious fighter too. But it was one thing to be the lead fighter in a pack with abilities that she had mastered, and one thing to sign up to a fight against individuals with abilities that she had never even encountered in passing.      Her mind was cluttered with thoughts. What would they look like? What would they fight like? But most importantly, what would she feel like? Having never been outside her grounds as a strict courtesy of Hybrid rules, she was now turned a rebel, an explorer.      Arriving the entrance of the grandiose forest, she held an excited grin on her face as she read the massive sign above her head that confirmed she was at the right place. But it wasn't just the sign that caught her attention, it was the appearance of a man blended into the bottom half of a horse, standing stationary at the entrance of the gates, hands behind his back, face holding no emotion whatsoever. Ignoring his presence, she glided into the fair, passing by the several tents where competitors were most probably practicing their arts of destruction.      It wasn’t the fact that she didn’t need preparing that halted her from taking a step into the tent that corresponded to her kind, it was the mere fact that the presence of a couple beings looking very much like herself hadn’t satisfied her thirst of rebellion. Where were the weird looking creatures? Why couldn’t she spot anyone with a dissimilar appearance aside from the Centaurs? Had everyone arrived on time? Or perhaps she had misread the parchment that specifically stated her schedule for the day. She wandered around the forest for a moment longer, hanging at the brink of losing hope when she saw it. Her first disparate creature hanging in a magical bubble of water, with a face of stone, claws of a dog and the tail of a lizard. It was a member of the Aquona, a sea creature. Memories flooded her eyes as she remembered her days as a young girl of four, viewing a drawn image of one of the many sea creatures within Aquona. She remembered having seen a picture of the so-called Meil of Aquona. She remembered laughing at it too. What damage a creature as tiny and sheltered as that could inflict upon a grown Hybrid was a secret that was yet to be revealed.      With this new found excitement, she returned to her corresponding tent, feeling a rush of joy yet again after spotting her best friend standing in the corner of the tent with his hands on his hips. Syllia Voltek was an orphan, whose parents had passed when he was a mere boy of 2 by the power of the flame. No one knew the cause of their taking, and no one ever questioned it. It was for that reason that Syllia Voltek was raised in the same household as Eliana that they became the best of friends, and siblings by mannerism.      ‘Where have you been? I thought for sure Torek must have caught you and imprisoned you in your chambers. There’s no way I can fight all these battles all on my own Eli. We haven’t even trained properly-’      ‘Calm down Sylli, aren’t you even the slightest bit interested in the appearances of the rest of them? Did you see anything unusual? The only other I saw was a Centaur and a Meil of Aquona. To say I'm disappointed is an understatement. The way people made it out to be I thought we would be rounding up a circus in here.’ Eliana interrupted. It was a habit she inherited from her father at a young age. One he now regretted accidentally planting into his daughter's head as the curse rebounded upon himself in moments of serious communication.      ‘Eli I think you’re forgetting that we’re here to fight not to explore and daydream. Come on, we have to train.’ Finished Syllia, getting into his fighting stance. Ignoring absolutely everything her best mate had just said, Eliana rushed towards the entrance of the tent and poked her head out to try sneak a peek into any of the other tents. After a failed attempt at spying, her head sprung back in to face the glaring sight of her friend as he patiently waited for her to even begin acknowledging his words.      ‘Oh come on Sylli, have some faith in our training. Besides, no one else from the community is even here so I’m sure we will have tonnes of time to squeeze in some practice before the rings commence. Now, what do you say we go and find out what the competition looks like?’ She questioned, another grin building up on her face.      It surely was a tempting idea, especially now that the sight of the Meil had raised her hopes of winning this competition. However it was this very naivety of this silly, inexperienced girl that would eventually result in the biggest transformation of her life.      Against her vision, her competitors prepared, each in their tent, with their most trusted members. The tents formed a path towards the rings where the competition would take place, a ring marked solely by the leftover twigs of an old, fallen tree, beyond which the speculators chanted the names of their idols. For years, the Werewolves had carried the champion titles, as well the pride of power in a territory with little to nothing of power. But this year it wasn’t just ordinary members of the largest Werewolf packs fighting for the title. It was the heir and son of the Alpha of all the werewolf packs in Gloarian.      Razaar Solonov, son of Edith Solonov, the only female Alpha to have taken leadership of the packs of Gloarian, an emblem of power, had reluctantly accepted the petition to compete against creatures he thought to be scum in front of him. Having not known his r****t father, Razaar certainly grew up in an air of power, but it wasn’t a positive empowerment, it was a dark nebula that had formed up around his entire being and consumed him, causing him to dislike anything and everything around him. He was a clear contrast to his mother, who had long forgotten the incident, and instead surged with empowerment and kindness towards her fellow pack members. It was with that air that she cascaded down to the forest to watch her son compete with pride, knowing how hard he trained and willed to be at the top. She was certainly proud of him, but was incapable of raising in him the only human quality she admired: love. A quality his father clearly lacked in, and one his own son was unknowingly and unconsciously morphing out to be. Nevertheless, her efforts never halted as she continuously emanated the emotion she so dearly wished her son would return to her one day.      She entered the tent her son stood in, shirtless, leaving his sculpted chest bare for the others to inspect and get distracted by. His eyes were on alert as she entered, and only relaxed as he acknowledged her presence, before he continued to stretch his arms while flexing the muscles of his toned back.      ‘How are you feeling darling? Where are the others?’ she asked as she took a seat on the small stool in the corner of the tent.      ‘I’ll be fine, I just want to get this over with already. The others are on their way, Enzo is with them as we speak’ he responded briefly, turning away from his mother without a second glance.      She nodded to herself, before elevating from the stool she had been sitting on moments ago, making Razaar’s head turn on instant.      ‘I just know you’ll win this and make us proud’ she said, a genuine smile on her face as she looked into her child's eyes. It was a smile that faltered as per usual when Razaar responded with a curt nod and turned back to his business without an ounce of gratitude. Taking this as her queue to leave, Edith turned around, heading out of the tent towards the audience area where she awaited her son's performance.      Inside his tent, the aura of resentment circulated Razaar like a shadow as he thought back to the pathetic plea of the council that his mother was a part of, requesting him to perform at the competition. His own views contrasted theirs as he thought of how unnecessary it seemed to be in the presence of others unlike himself in the first place. The mere thought had him raging once more, causing him to want to step out to get some air. Before his foot could move in any direction, the flap of his tent trembled slightly as a petite figure stepped in, spreading relaxation within Razaar in a very instance. Eiva stepped in, a shy smile on her face as she approached her best friend.      ‘You look tense’ she stated simply, halting a meter away from him.      ‘I haven’t spent the last 20 years of my life preparing to fight lame battles like these’ he spat, unconsciously causing a slight flinch to flutter up Eiva’s spine. It was a tone she had yet to get used to.      ‘I’m sure you’ll have no problems whatsoever with bringing another victory home’ she said with the same gentle tone his mother had.      ‘I know, I think it’s just a waste of my time, so I’m going to let Enzo and the others fight the easy battles’ he finished, leaving no room for discussion. Like Edith, Eiva nodded, not knowing what to say further.      Eiva Matouk had known Razaar the entire 20 years of their existence, and his attitude had yet to change. That didn’t stop her from being his friend, as she too, was a unique member of his pack, an individual with no other friends due to her very contrasting gentle nature and poise, that sent most individuals away from her because of how human she seemed. Despite their striking unrelated personalities, they had made it work for 20 years, and continued to do so without having to find a reason why it shouldn’t work.      As rude as it seemed, Razaar’s need for air increased as the scenario rounded back into his head, causing him to storm off without a word of return to his friend, into the depths of the forest away from the rest of the crowd. It was an act that by now Eiva was more than used to, that appeared to have no effect on her whatsoever.      It seemed at first he ran without a direction, only where the wind was the strongest, but soon  the smell of a sweet essence travelled up his nose, sparking a delight that was foreign to him. It was the kind of sweet he hated, yet was compelled to follow as his random path had suddenly picked a destination. He was most certainly confused, but refused to pause for a single second as the taste of curiosity pulled him in the direction of the smell he so dearly wanted to embrace.      For Gloarians, the most fascinating thing about earth was the level of absence amongst humans. The absence of powers, the absence of strong senses, the absence of a connection to nature. It was a bizarre concept for Gloarians to intake whilst learning in their childhoods. The mere absence of the knowledge of the existence of Zaleon was the greatest fascination. Knowing that an entire species is unaware of a kind similar to theirs whilst the others are aware is a most beguiling concept. The biggest superpower to exist within the human world was technology, a power that lied not within their physical forms but in their exterior lives. Presented as a luxury created by their own hands, a flabbergasting concept for Gloarians. It was a luxury that the people of Zaleon didn’t believe in and didn’t attempt to replicate one bit.      There were differences between the two despite the similarities of their physical forms. One of these differences was the lack of soul mates, or identification of soul mates amongst humans. How do humans function on a system of trial and error when it comes to their other half, wonder the Gloarians. To all members of Zaleon, the concept of soul mates was the purest, most precious gift of the flame, and once again, to cherish the path of the flame is what the people of Zaleon lived for. To go against the natural order of the flame resulted in chaos, the kind of chaos that no one even thought to dare go up against.      Though Razaar wasn’t just some ordinary Alpha in the making. He was a thick headed, rebellious man himself, just like Eliana was, so when his eyes fell upon those of his soul mates, his one and only, his reaction certainly didn’t pan out to be like that of any other normal being on Zaleon.      He stood still in steps, not attempting to take a step further or back from where he stood. Both their eyes widened at the realisation of what they were, but both these big headed people had no idea what to do as they both stood a meter away from each other for the longest time, in complete and utter silence.