Prologue
It was a massacre. Bodies, as if water droplets having fallen from the skies above, were scattered about the ashed battlefield in a stunning display of gore and bitter disappointment. Any further aggression was futile -- the operation was a complete failure. Hellions surrounded the last few pockets of resistance before finishing them off with their plethora of razored claws and breaths of fire -- bloodied allies and friends alike littered around him in lifeless defeat. Everything was lost. Centuries of fighting, only to end like this -- if only he had realized sooner. The commander fell to his knees in disbelief, eyes doing their best to choke back tears as ominous glares and devilish intent began to weigh upon him, "I don't understand.. how.." He spoke star-stricken, the comprehension of the situation being lost on him. He let loose a curdling scream of emotion before finally closing those watered eyes of his. And with that, the waiting hellions soon set upon him, but not before a voice echoed, ...
"... Hishoa!"
Beginnings
He is as old as the universe itself -- but then again, so is everything in this world when the right logic is applied. However, as nearly everything in this realm is constantly recyled through the conversion of energy, he was different in the idea that he was birthed alongside the cosmos. In his infancy he could hardly be considered a being, just a mass of potent matter that would soon become what is known as a Paradigm, a euphemism for archtype or "original". There were many before him but sadly the circumstances weren't ideal for their incubation period; they fell victim to the chaotic nature of the universe and instead enriched various stars throughout the plane of existence. Planets formed, life beckoned and civilization sparked energetically throughout the universe. At this moment in time, he was nothing but a simple sphere of light brimming with rich energy of the mythical heavens.
The Common Realm
The universe was vast. In his simplistic unconscious form, he explored timelessly for other sentient life. Universe dust and dead planets were all that met him. That was, until he entered into the common realm. Humans, dragons, wolves, tigers, nagas, other celestial species; they all existed in this magnificent speck of the cosmos. Due to his shapeshifting malleability, he could adopt different appearances, however at the moment he can only take on the form of a humanoid. Oddly enough he adorned native, expansive and powerful wings whenever he took on a bipedal appearance. This world of opportunity, as exciting as it was, also left him a bit overwhelmed..
Enter, Kraderic Agulas Tyir
( journal entries start from here and go further in-depth about these events )
Given his beginnings and essence, he put out a very unique aura that both attracted and repulsed varying parties. A stranger approached him before long. Through subtle introductions and varying degrees of communication, Hishoa quickly befriended this fellow celestial named Kraderic -- the self-described "Virtue of Faith". Together they ventured and explored; he was as much an explorer and avid seeker of knowledge as he was. He was taught the common tongue as well as various exotic languages; several variations of Elven, Druid and a novilicity in Japanese, Spanish and olden English -- this new world seemed much more expansive than the universe itself, he remembered thinking.
Gain and Loss
Hishoa took into possession a powerful blade named Moirai, a gift from Kraderic by virtue of his trader acquaintance. Regrettably he didn't have more than a week's time to train with it, as he and Kraderic were set upon by hellions. A mortal wound succumbed Kraderic to his fate, but not before he could pass his journal full of notes to his apprentice.
While fleeing for his life with hellions an inch's length behind him, his body forced its first transformation, granting him an icy pelt and two additional legs, allowing him to quickly and easily flee from the razor-mouthed creatures.
Unable to control his transformations, he took shelters in the trees. It was then he realized that he had been bitten. Something nefarious stirred within him.
Exelite
Delirious and weakened, Hishoa took to the ground once more in search of aid lest he die from infection. He was soon cornered by awaiting hellions, too weak and debilitated to fight back with a sword he lacked proficiency with. Like him, hellions also put out a very distinct aura, leading to a group of demon-hunters called Exelite to come to his rescue.
A woman named Sophae lead the rogue outfit full of fellow celestials. It was found out that he was inflicted with what's known as the hellions' curse -- a progressive debilitating illness that kills within eighteen months. Because he is a Paradigm however, the effects of such an illness is slow-acting, although it's not readily apparent.
Rescue
Two centuries have passed since Hishoa has joined Exelite. Discolorations on his stomach and blurry vision in his left eye are the current effects of the disease. His dedication to the sword and eradication of hellions has allowed him to climb the ranks to commander, second only to Sophae as the founder and leader. It was the eve of a decisive battle. Scouts learned hellions and their ilk were using a sacred mass-burial site of historic celestials to draw energy from and send back to their home world. Nearly three hundred creatures, digging and clawing their way towards buried corpses to feast on decomposed remains.
Despite their plans and preparations, the operation couldn't have gone worse. About midway into the assault, a gargantuan hellion was summoned from the otherworld. A single arm measured 15', complete with razor sharp talons of similarly impressive length. A swing of this organic weapon cleared out swathes of Exelite forces, bodies strewn about with blood, lifeless gore painting trees and rocks innumerable. It devoured brethren one after another, handfuls of allies being shoved into a twisting sea of fangs.
A strategic retreat was called by Sophae though by the time she could give the order their force numbered a mere half-dozen. This included Hishoa, who could do naught but become overwhelmed by the stench of metal in the air and the slaughterscape that was presented before him. After an outburst of emotion, he quietly awaited death. Just as he was to be surrounded, Sophae and a surviving recruit took him by the arms and away from the terror.
Four remained.
Damaged Goods
The next two years proved to be difficult for Hishoa. The memories of that night haunted him endlessly, only intensified by the horror of the next several months. It started with disorientation and an increasing tendency for absent-mindedness. What followed were dark-colored splotches on the stomach and troubled, raspy breathing. Blindness quickly set in. It was surreal to see his leader in such condition, and to know it only took the hellions' illness four month to overtake her...
This woman who had saved and provided for him many times over the course of centuries.. gone in six months, without a lick of his having repaid her. As pathetic as it sounds, he was once again lost and scared -- to have his friends and loved ones taken away in such brutal manners? It wasn't a week after he buried his late leader that he took to the road, dragging behind him enough emotional baggage to make a noble blush.
Millennial Drifter
A thousand year period of forlorn depression and absolute indifference awaited him. As a recluse to society, he trailed the edges of civilization skirmishing regularly with hellions as they continually pursued him. His aesthetics deteriorated, the bare necessities becoming the norm. Respiratory deficiencies plagued him as did failing eyesight and hair absent color. As his condition worsened, the amount of skirmishes grew fewer and longer in between. His celestial aura weakened as did his body, perhaps disincentivizing attacks.
Currently Hishoa moves quietly and with purpose, taking whatever precautions necessary to be as prepared as one may be. This is especially so when he is with others.. as he knows he is a lure for danger. He seeks answers, and ultimately knows skirting society isn't the path to enlightenment. He knows not where to go or where his path will lead him.