THE BEGINNING
Sometimes rebirths do not turn out as they should. Sometimes they result in an atrocity; a freak of nature; a hybrid of the stars.
Angelic Wardens, the deities of the mortal conscience, balance, and essence, oftentimes come together to reproduce more young Gods, but things may not go according to plan if the Wardens in question are not as careful as they should be.
Only five times has such an incident occurred. They are named accordingly and hidden away from the mortals’ eyes: First, Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth. Future hybrids will continue to have the same name line as those treading before.
Fifth was born from an altercation in the rebirthing process. A miniature fallen star crashed into a barren valley, shattered and spilling, and the loose silhouette of an Aereis formed from the golden puddles. At first it was unrecognizable, but over the course of days, the Wardens could properly discern which star species this little one was. When the gold core hardened and fur and flesh emerged through the cracks, the newborn Aereis was instantly swept away and taken to the Angelic Wardens in particular, hoping their expertise could fix whatever was wrong with this poor child. The Aereis fell into a deep slumber during this time; the Wardens do not like being seen.
This creature did not look fully like their kin. They had five eyes instead of two, four ears instead of two, and the otherworldly ability to “transform” depending on the strength of their emotions. During these intense periods, Fifth may find themself translucent and shiny like glass, along with an extra set of smaller back wings only in the most crucial conditions.
These extra wings appear for a split second during Area Escape — their main ability in which stars slip from their paws to burn and slow down the enemy — and if they overexert their starry golden breath. Under close eye of the Wardens’ visible incarnations, Fifth was trained incredibly hard in endurance and speed to ensure that the anomalies in their Area Escape ability would go unnoticed.
The Wardens agreed that since some of these odd traits were not permanent (and the ones that were could be hidden), Fifth could have a chance at a semi-normal life if they wear a specially designed mask constantly. The mask renders their other three eyes useless and gives them a blind spot below their full field of vision. The ears could be passed off as a birth defect, but what about their transformation? Would they have to make one of the most emotional species completely void of it?
THE MIDST
Sometimes rebirths do not turn out as they should. Sometimes they result in an atrocity; a freak of nature; a hybrid of the stars.
--That’s precisely what they did. Fifth grew up away from other Aereis, hardly ever coming across a pack of their own kind despite being borne a social species. They lived their first few years in near-complete isolation; their only “friends” were the incarnations of Wardens sent to keep an eye on them. These incarnations often resorted to tough luck rather than softness, and the once gentle, emotional Aereis soon became eerily stoic. They sought out spars with the Wardens to fight the lack of mental stimulation in their life; they were recklessly on the front lines whenever faced with a threat, often having to be dragged away. This young child was a difficult one to control.
It took a long and tireless effort to break Fifth and force them into obedience like the Wardens wished. Despite never being surrounded by other Aereis, they expected Fifth to behave like one, devoting themselves to their religion and their ultimate goal of bringing Sonaria to the underworlds. This habit only lasted a year at most; it was only a matter of time before Fifths nature came out of hiding.
They acknowledge that the Wardens are their creators as well as their isolators. How many times have these cruel Gods treated others the same way? How many Aereis saw lonely little Fifth but never batted an eye or offered to help?
Sonaria was decidedly undeserving of their mercy. No matter how much they wanted to, they could not shout to the sky and expect the Wardens to repent, not when they can’t even see them. Fifth decided to get their revenge in other ways. At first it was a simple overhunt, then, slowly, a kill-spree for sport. Not even their own species was spared from the wrath of a starstruck beast.
THE FINALE
A few creatures have aided them in bigger kills in return for their share of the fortune— full bellies were hard to come by in the wild, and even different species are willing to form a brief truce if it meant feasting for one night. Fifth insists that they don’t need them but they often let them help anyway. If the creature is weakened after the fight, they have a history of delivering the final few blows, feeling satisfaction from invoking terror in the eyes formed by Wardens.
