Meris the Triton
Death of Maris: With Maris’ death his link to the cursed Bident is broken. The sea god Thassa will come to reclaim it creating a pulse wave or other affect that may move people off the bridge!
MERIS - As Meris Fen, Prince of the Frozen Ocean of the North Seas, son of Adlamis and Phoebicia Fen, King and Queen of Frozen Ocean of the North Seas, breathed his last breath, something stirred in the deepest darkest depths of the Blade Driven Sea.
Six moons ago, Meris, a young, headstrong prince, walked into the training arena to face his Pankrati, or martial master, in a ceremonial rite of passage, called Virilis. Tradition dictated that, upon the 22nd birthday of a prince of Frozen Oceans of the North Seas, he shall challenge his Pankrati, to obtain Dekella, the Bident of Thassa. This was an impossible task, as the Bident was protected by Thassa’s devine power. Located within a shield of divinity, at the center of the arena, Dekella was a symbol of all of Frozen Ocean’s core beliefs.
The ceremony that young Meris was about to undertake, was designed as a lesson for a young warrior. By attempting to obtain an unattainable object, the young warrior would show that he possessed the grit necessary to be a true protector of the kingdom. In kneeling to Dekella after defeating his Pankrati, the young warrior would show how he handles humility and grace, and respects Thassa’s protection. No man could become King until they show they will do everything to protect their kingdom, including a show of respect and gratitude for their god.
The arena was made up of 11 concentric motes of water, alternating with 11 concentric dunes of sand. In the center of the arena was Dekella, floating 40 hands above a pool of water, with an impenetrable cylinder of light around it, extending into the heavens. The bident was magnificent. It gleamed in the sun at any angle. It looked as if it was made of solid blue-gold, with 22 briliant white gems glinting along the face of the staff. It steadily turned one revolution per minute and cast a sparkling light around the arena that resembled a consistent wave.
This ceremony was highly choreographed. Young Meris was trained from his first steps, and then every single day of his life for this moment. He spent day after day after day learning the elaborate steps and leaps and dives and flips and everything that went into reaching the center of the arena. Aside from his Pankrati, who went by the name Ambros, he had been working with 21 other warriors, called the Ordo Aquestius, who studded the arena along the way to the center. The warriors had been apprentices of the king’s personal guard and they had seen many battles. Upon Meris’ 2 nd birthday, they were retired from battle and given the sole task of training the young tritan. Upon finishing Meris’ ceremony, the warriors will take on apprentices of their own, who will be Meris’ personal guard, once he obtains the kingdom.
Although he enjoyed the training, it was controlling the water and moving the sand with the waves that he found most challenging. It was a great accomplishment to him when he began to maneuver flawlessly, moving land with sea and brilliantly sculpting the terrain. Over the years he had mastered his work and it all became second nature. Nearing the last few years of his training, he began to get bored and yearned to go on the adventures he heard so much about.
At night, after training, the Ordo Aquestius would share stories about adventures they had, filling Meris’ head with wonder. Meris was well aware that his duty, after Virilis, would consist of learning to be king and involve very little combat, other than his daily martial training. He struggled with this internal dilemma and it began to eat away at him inside. He began lashing out at Ambros and at the Ordo Aquestius. He began to develop quite an arrogant attitude, belittling his mentors.
On the day of Meris’ Virilis, he had no nerves at all. Meris had started to believe that if he could take Dekella from it’s perch, it would prove his worthiness and he could travel the world, having terrific adventures. He could be free to do as he pleased. It wasn’t lost on him that he was supposed to fail at obtaining Dekella; however, his sense of arrogance had a strong hold on him. As the days wound down, Meris was sure that he could just reach into the protective divine light and retrieve Dekella, instead of shamefully bowing in defeat in front of it. After all, he was pretty sure the light was some sort of trickery.
He had never seen this god, Thassa. He was pretty sure she was just a figment of fairy tales. Now it was time. Game day. When Meris saw the flag thrown near the center of the arena, by Ambros, he charged in, flawlessly executing his 20 years of training. He sparred with each Ordo Aquestius. At each correct location, he controlled the water and leveled the sand, creating pathways toward the center. When he reached his Pankrati near Dekella, he stared into Ambros’ eyes. The corner of Meris’ mouth turned up in a smirk. At this very same moment in time, a smirk also appeared at the corner of a creature’s mouth, at the deepest darkest depths of the Blade Driven Sea.
Ambros’ eyes widened. He instantly knew what Meris was going to do. They engaged in their choreographed spar and when it was time, when Meris was supposed to knock his Pankrati down and kneel before Dekella, he threw Ambrose hard to the ground and stepped on his chest. Meris proceded to leap into the air. Controlling the water below him, he threw up a massive wave that propelled him into the devine light. Meris flew, unharmed by the light, and reached out for Dekella. He grasped Dekella in his fist and rode the wave straight through the light, lowering down gently onto flat sand. He looked back and stared at Ambros again.
“You fool!” Shouted Ambros.
“Shut up old man!” Replied Meris. “It is obviously meant to be. Otherwise Thassa would have protected her precious Dekella!”
“You moron!” Shouted Ambrose. “Did you not listen to your teachings? Thassa allows anyone who whishes, yield Dekella! She let you through that light. Now you will know the terrible responsibility yielding that bident holds. I suppose this was all for naught.”
Slightly confused, as Meris consistently and intentionally did not listen to any teachings about Thassa, he looked around at the outer tiers of the arena. The people roared! They were ecstatic. The young warrior was the only one they had ever seen, touch Dekella. This was a huge day! Meris was filled with confidence again. Surely he was the greatest warrior that ever lived. And if Thassa were real, she had chosen him to yield Dekella, or something like that; he had no interest in Ambros’ babbling. As he was basking in the glory, he looked back at Ambros. His heart stopped for a quick second. Ambros was leading the Ordo Aquestius in a charge directly toward Meris.
Meris may have been arrogant and not quite bright, but he was an incredible martial arts student. Although he had repeated the same routine, day after day, after day, Meris found he could improvise. He needed to make it back to the entrance and get out of there. After much thrashing of waves and the crashing of warriors, Meris thwarted his mentors and made it back to the entrance. The entrance was filled with admirers and people who were beside themselves about the magnificent show they’d seen today. Meris pushed through the crowd and bolted around the city. He had to get out of there.
After hiding and ducking and maneuvering through Frozen Ocean, Meris finally made his way out of the city limits. He travelled night and day. As he came across small towns and villages, his confidence and arrogance began flowing back to him. He began telling anyone who would listen about his adventures. These adventures, of course, did not belong to him, but to the Ordo Aquestius. At some point, he met up with a strange crew in a pub and they had actually asked him to go on an adventure with them. This was his chance! He could make adventures of his own! He accepted the invitation and obnoxiously lead the way.
After thwarting a bomb attempt in a lighthouse, or something like that, Meris wasn’t really paying attention, he was just enjoying the fight, Meris was exhilarated! He got a taste of the kill! Not a choreographed training, but real kills! Meris made his way outside of the lighthouse and saw his chance. Some big fellow that was pushing his new friends around made some remarks and then began walking away like he was tough. Meris saw his chance. He rushed toward the big guy and knew once he chopped his head off, his new friends would cheer for him just like his fans that day in the arena.
As Meris ran toward the mass of enemies, he noticed something fly over his head. It landed in the middle of the hoodlums and splattered. “What the hell?” He thought. As Meris entered the circle of enemies, he lost his footing. He tried to catch himself, but instead sailed through a group of guards waiting with weapons drawn. Meris impaled himself on a guard’s sword. It sliced straight through his heart.
As Meris Fen, Prince of the Frozen Ocean of the North Seas, son of Adlamis and Phoebicia Fen, King and Queen of Frozen Ocean of the North Seas, breathed his last breath, something stirred in the deepest darkest depths of the Blade Driven Sea.
MERIS - As Meris Fen, Prince of the Frozen Ocean of the North Seas, son of Adlamis and Phoebicia Fen, King and Queen of Frozen Ocean of the North Seas, breathed his last breath, something stirred in the deepest darkest depths of the Blade Driven Sea.
Six moons ago, Meris, a young, headstrong prince, walked into the training arena to face his Pankrati, or martial master, in a ceremonial rite of passage, called Virilis. Tradition dictated that, upon the 22nd birthday of a prince of Frozen Oceans of the North Seas, he shall challenge his Pankrati, to obtain Dekella, the Bident of Thassa. This was an impossible task, as the Bident was protected by Thassa’s devine power. Located within a shield of divinity, at the center of the arena, Dekella was a symbol of all of Frozen Ocean’s core beliefs.
The ceremony that young Meris was about to undertake, was designed as a lesson for a young warrior. By attempting to obtain an unattainable object, the young warrior would show that he possessed the grit necessary to be a true protector of the kingdom. In kneeling to Dekella after defeating his Pankrati, the young warrior would show how he handles humility and grace, and respects Thassa’s protection. No man could become King until they show they will do everything to protect their kingdom, including a show of respect and gratitude for their god.
The arena was made up of 11 concentric motes of water, alternating with 11 concentric dunes of sand. In the center of the arena was Dekella, floating 40 hands above a pool of water, with an impenetrable cylinder of light around it, extending into the heavens. The bident was magnificent. It gleamed in the sun at any angle. It looked as if it was made of solid blue-gold, with 22 briliant white gems glinting along the face of the staff. It steadily turned one revolution per minute and cast a sparkling light around the arena that resembled a consistent wave.
This ceremony was highly choreographed. Young Meris was trained from his first steps, and then every single day of his life for this moment. He spent day after day after day learning the elaborate steps and leaps and dives and flips and everything that went into reaching the center of the arena. Aside from his Pankrati, who went by the name Ambros, he had been working with 21 other warriors, called the Ordo Aquestius, who studded the arena along the way to the center. The warriors had been apprentices of the king’s personal guard and they had seen many battles. Upon Meris’ 2 nd birthday, they were retired from battle and given the sole task of training the young tritan. Upon finishing Meris’ ceremony, the warriors will take on apprentices of their own, who will be Meris’ personal guard, once he obtains the kingdom.
Although he enjoyed the training, it was controlling the water and moving the sand with the waves that he found most challenging. It was a great accomplishment to him when he began to maneuver flawlessly, moving land with sea and brilliantly sculpting the terrain. Over the years he had mastered his work and it all became second nature. Nearing the last few years of his training, he began to get bored and yearned to go on the adventures he heard so much about.
At night, after training, the Ordo Aquestius would share stories about adventures they had, filling Meris’ head with wonder. Meris was well aware that his duty, after Virilis, would consist of learning to be king and involve very little combat, other than his daily martial training. He struggled with this internal dilemma and it began to eat away at him inside. He began lashing out at Ambros and at the Ordo Aquestius. He began to develop quite an arrogant attitude, belittling his mentors.
On the day of Meris’ Virilis, he had no nerves at all. Meris had started to believe that if he could take Dekella from it’s perch, it would prove his worthiness and he could travel the world, having terrific adventures. He could be free to do as he pleased. It wasn’t lost on him that he was supposed to fail at obtaining Dekella; however, his sense of arrogance had a strong hold on him. As the days wound down, Meris was sure that he could just reach into the protective divine light and retrieve Dekella, instead of shamefully bowing in defeat in front of it. After all, he was pretty sure the light was some sort of trickery.
He had never seen this god, Thassa. He was pretty sure she was just a figment of fairy tales. Now it was time. Game day. When Meris saw the flag thrown near the center of the arena, by Ambros, he charged in, flawlessly executing his 20 years of training. He sparred with each Ordo Aquestius. At each correct location, he controlled the water and leveled the sand, creating pathways toward the center. When he reached his Pankrati near Dekella, he stared into Ambros’ eyes. The corner of Meris’ mouth turned up in a smirk. At this very same moment in time, a smirk also appeared at the corner of a creature’s mouth, at the deepest darkest depths of the Blade Driven Sea.
Ambros’ eyes widened. He instantly knew what Meris was going to do. They engaged in their choreographed spar and when it was time, when Meris was supposed to knock his Pankrati down and kneel before Dekella, he threw Ambrose hard to the ground and stepped on his chest. Meris proceded to leap into the air. Controlling the water below him, he threw up a massive wave that propelled him into the devine light. Meris flew, unharmed by the light, and reached out for Dekella. He grasped Dekella in his fist and rode the wave straight through the light, lowering down gently onto flat sand. He looked back and stared at Ambros again.
“You fool!” Shouted Ambros.
“Shut up old man!” Replied Meris. “It is obviously meant to be. Otherwise Thassa would have protected her precious Dekella!”
“You moron!” Shouted Ambrose. “Did you not listen to your teachings? Thassa allows anyone who whishes, yield Dekella! She let you through that light. Now you will know the terrible responsibility yielding that bident holds. I suppose this was all for naught.”
Slightly confused, as Meris consistently and intentionally did not listen to any teachings about Thassa, he looked around at the outer tiers of the arena. The people roared! They were ecstatic. The young warrior was the only one they had ever seen, touch Dekella. This was a huge day! Meris was filled with confidence again. Surely he was the greatest warrior that ever lived. And if Thassa were real, she had chosen him to yield Dekella, or something like that; he had no interest in Ambros’ babbling. As he was basking in the glory, he looked back at Ambros. His heart stopped for a quick second. Ambros was leading the Ordo Aquestius in a charge directly toward Meris.
Meris may have been arrogant and not quite bright, but he was an incredible martial arts student. Although he had repeated the same routine, day after day, after day, Meris found he could improvise. He needed to make it back to the entrance and get out of there. After much thrashing of waves and the crashing of warriors, Meris thwarted his mentors and made it back to the entrance. The entrance was filled with admirers and people who were beside themselves about the magnificent show they’d seen today. Meris pushed through the crowd and bolted around the city. He had to get out of there.
After hiding and ducking and maneuvering through Frozen Ocean, Meris finally made his way out of the city limits. He travelled night and day. As he came across small towns and villages, his confidence and arrogance began flowing back to him. He began telling anyone who would listen about his adventures. These adventures, of course, did not belong to him, but to the Ordo Aquestius. At some point, he met up with a strange crew in a pub and they had actually asked him to go on an adventure with them. This was his chance! He could make adventures of his own! He accepted the invitation and obnoxiously lead the way.
After thwarting a bomb attempt in a lighthouse, or something like that, Meris wasn’t really paying attention, he was just enjoying the fight, Meris was exhilarated! He got a taste of the kill! Not a choreographed training, but real kills! Meris made his way outside of the lighthouse and saw his chance. Some big fellow that was pushing his new friends around made some remarks and then began walking away like he was tough. Meris saw his chance. He rushed toward the big guy and knew once he chopped his head off, his new friends would cheer for him just like his fans that day in the arena.
As Meris ran toward the mass of enemies, he noticed something fly over his head. It landed in the middle of the hoodlums and splattered. “What the hell?” He thought. As Meris entered the circle of enemies, he lost his footing. He tried to catch himself, but instead sailed through a group of guards waiting with weapons drawn. Meris impaled himself on a guard’s sword. It sliced straight through his heart.
As Meris Fen, Prince of the Frozen Ocean of the North Seas, son of Adlamis and Phoebicia Fen, King and Queen of Frozen Ocean of the North Seas, breathed his last breath, something stirred in the deepest darkest depths of the Blade Driven Sea.
Children
Comments