clan.

clan.
/klan/ • A group of people regarded as being descended from a common ancestor.


THE KISEKI CLAN COMPOUND.
Location: Glacia Continent, Southern Miraculum Province

The compound predated the Kingdom in its entirety, it was created by the elders of the Kiseki clan after traveling to Planet Caedo from the destroyed Planet Earth. The location of the compound was on the Glacia Continent just below the equator in— what was now— the southern territory of the Miraculum Province. Mountains encompassed the fortress, hiding its location from the rest of the world. Talismans at each mountain peak conjured an image from any onlookers above, displaying an image of more mountains. The talismans did not only cloak the compound, it as well held a fortification barricade that enveloped the plateau.

There was once a bridge that led access to the fortress over a cliff side, over the span of the last one hundred years the bridge no longer stands. From the cliff side to the compound entrance was the Aisle of Pax with statues on either side of past ancestors; the Original Fifteen. The Aisle and statues were covered in snow as it blew down angularly from above. Along the entrance and face of the main structure were stone pillars twenty five meters high, supporting the peaked crown of the structure. Remnants of olden aged banners were still visible at its anchor points in between the pillars, flapping in the wind as the gusting snow joined in its unsettlement. The compound continued into the mountain side and below into the mountain itself; massive on its interior whilst its exterior seemed only to be the size of a government building.

The large, nearly fifteen meter doors were sealed shut, unopened and undisturbed for one hundred years. Through the doors of the compound were ivory floors that carpeted a silver and cyan walk way, as well as pillars that draped banners of the clan sigil. The coffered ceiling above was covered with sculpted carvings and engravings that marveled with masterful artistry. Blessed talismans were all over the interior of the fortress, displaying light that illuminated the compound. The compound consisted of nine sub-levels, each level wider than the one before it as it tunneled deeper into the mountains. Each level was different, some were libraries, training facilities, laboratories, personal quarters and more.

The fortress was the hallowed sanctum of the miracle clan.


Bellowing gusts of wind blew the flurry of snow in each and every way, the whiteout surrounding in the shrouded midday sun made trouble for distant visibility. Black boots crunched against the ground below with each step he made, leaving behind a temporary footprint that didn’t last long against the burying frozen vapors falling from above. Visible wisps of breath drifted from the face of the man with each exhale, the pink parted lips were moist, his skin ivory, his physical conditions unaffected from the severe conditions of the weather. Eyes squinted with eyebrows cringed in efforts to limit any of the small flakes of frozen precipitation from bombarding his eyes.

The light cyan hues were almost indistinguishable from the white scleras that surrounded it, it was mostly because of the whiteout landscape that surrounded him. Normally the tone of his eyes were prominent as pools of cyan from his visage. In the distance he fixated on a wall made of ice that spanned over ninety meters in height, this was the ancient line of the Titan tribe of Xerox’s land. The image of the man began to shudder before disappearing in a blur, his speed was not a factor in his movement, it was the electromagnetic waves given from the sun, reflecting off of each flake of snow and the whiteout surrounding in its entirety. The man displaced his physical body to an equal wave of electromagnetism as what was around him. He reappeared and disappeared with vast distances in between.

The black long sleeved male, with black slacks and black leather boots covered the expanse of the terrain in seconds, pausing for a moment at the top of the wall to admire the view beyond it, the raging blizzard beyond the wall did not reach beyond the wall, instead a soft snow fell from the firmament. It had been over a hundred years, the tribe he had once celebrated and visited with had grown tremendously since his last visit. The tribal city of chimney houses and cobbled roads was no longer, the city of the Xerox was now a metropolis with skyscrapers and modern roadways not too different from what the provinces consisted of. The primitive species had grown exponentially since he and his kin had first settled on the planet. It was highly unlikely that any of the species alive would have known of the man, but yet again he thought the same about his visit to the capital.

He jumped from atop of the wall and slowly floated down toward the city floor below, as he lowered down he grabbed his right forearm and lifted the sleeve of his shirt to the crease of his elbow. Revealing more of his ivory skin, from beneath his skin a tribal marking consisting of a cyan glow began to illuminate through his skin. The tribal marking was an ancient one that revealed his status to the tribes of the Southern Hemisphere, it also warranted him safe passage in and out of the city without being seen as an intruder. His not so long charcoal colored hair elegantly settled back to its normal ruffled look as he reached the ground, his hair joined by riddling flakes of snow that grew in each passing moment.

The sirens that wailed in the distance toward his direction had grown louder, the flying mobile ships of the tribes guard sped past him just after the alarms were silenced. The recognition of the mark on his arm had relieved them of their suspected intruder. The man smirked as he walked through the city, the natives split to either side of the walkway, creating an open path for him at the center. The natives were frozen in disbelief, all eyes fixated on the male with faint whispers under breath to one another asking if it was really one of the Originators. The illuminating mark that spiraled around his forearm was a specific and unique one, a mark of their ancestors in particular.

As he made his way further down the walk way, soldiers and guards saluted with their right arms crossing over their chests, the natives bowing their heads. It wasn’t until long before he was met by a Hand of the Chief, an official who worked directly for the chief of the tribe. “Ancestor, word has traveled of your return, we were sure of it being a fallacy yet here we are in your presence” he bowed his head. They viewed the man as their ancestor yet he was not one of their species, the Titan species were three times the size of an average being with light pigmented skin. The skin of the natives varied from light skin tones such as whites, blues, purples, and greys with very muscular toned bodies that did not grow any hair. Their eyes varied from black and silver, their appearance was far different than that of the man.

“Salve, child of Xerox” he said as he signaled his left hand in response to the bow of the tribe official. “I request an audience with the Chief of Xerox at the new moon— for now I have somewhere to be, amicis vale.” The male began to glow with an aura of light before slowly rising into the air, once he cleared the top of all the skyscrapers he dashed toward the northwest. Through the air he scanned the land below, seeing the expanse of the tribal lands and its outlying regions that belong to the Xerox supporting tribes such as the Tydus and Vallen. In the distance he could see the mountain range of which was his destination. The cluster of mountain peaks had not changed over the hundred years he was gone.

Hovering over the center of the mountain range before descending quickly at a rate that would collide with the top of the mountain, but instead he didn’t, he phased through some type of projection; continuing his descent. On the other side of the projection was his targeted destination, the sanctum of his people, the Kiseki Clan Compound. The compound was the gathering place for the Kiseki in the material realms, it predated the Kingdom. His quick descent yielded to a soft landing just at the beginning of the Aisle of Pax, he walked toward the entrance structure— looking upon the statues of the original fifteen elders as he passed by. The stone statues were worn down and slightly covered in snow just as the ground was, the statues themselves were still recognizable after standing for hundreds of years.

“It's been so long in the time of the material realms—” said by Shuiro the Vermillion Spirit from the Celestial Realm through telepathic means of the nexus. “One Hundred Years Obito, ” The Kiseki walked up the steps toward the large double door that led to the interior of the compound. “I just hope it’s not too late.” Said the Kiseki as he glanced at the battered and torn banners adorned with the clan sigil, “It’s never too late, we’ve proven that before.” Obito approached the fifteen meter high double doors, placing his right hand upon the centerline of the doors. “I will find a way here to undo the severing, I promise.” The Kiseki’s promise to his spirit was to reconnect the two from being severed in the last war. The Vermillion Spirit was bound to the Celestial Realm; disconnected to an extent that would result in killing the two if Obito were to remain in the material realms.

From his palm emitted light that traveled like a trail through a labyrinth of lines and engravings in the stone doors, infusing his light with the door until it opened— the light pooled at the centerline of where the double doors met, expanding as it widened.

“We’ve Returned” said the Kiseki standing in the opening of the compound entrance with both doors wide open.