This is a non-canon story about the Sun God Pyrrhon from the 3DS game Kid Icarus Uprising. I made it about a month ago and put it on my Pyrrhon Tumblr blog, but it didn't get a lot of response. I was hoping to get more feedback from this website. I put it in a perspective like Pyrrhon was telling the story, and then that age old scene where you see vividly what he's telling you sort of thing. I wanted to see how well I did (Or didn't =P) do with this in general. Hope you enjoy. This is part one.


Pyrrhon was standing alongside a cliff, looking out across the canyons to the sun set as the sky turned ruby. It was time….

“Pyrrhon is going to tell you a little tale of himself.” The blazing Sun God proposed. “You passed the test, so it’s only fair if Pyrrhon tells you the full story. I must war you, though, that this thrilling tale might clash with that you might know about history. This is what really happened. Pyrrhon should know, he was there. Let me drop a little disclaimer on you mortals. You might hear some things that you have never heard of, and even some sides of certain Gods that you would never thought possible, but history, my friends, is written by the winners, and sometimes, the winners will hide and put people in a better light, even if it shadows their own existence till, say, 3000 years later. Oh, and if you feel like you going in a sort of flashback style as Pyrrhon vividly tells this awesome tale as if you are actually there instead of you sitting in front of Pyrrhon talking, then go with it. Are you ready?”

Pyrrhon gave a little pause for effect, and then he began.

“Long ago, further then even Pyrrhon can remember, was a small village guarded by a vast forest. This was Pyrhon’s home town. Even to this day, Pyrrhon can still smell the pine that grew there, the hammering of metal, the lake he tried to catch fish in….”
And so begins Part 1:

Once, there was a small village by the name of Bokor in the middle of the vast forest of Glimahor, isolating it from the entire world. It was quite a fortunate village, near a running river of fresh water, a lake where fish thrived, and a stable cave that held ores and minerals, even if common and very little of it. The village was very small in comparison to others one might have seen. It consisted of only six people. The black smith Bolhim, who always feared that people would attack their little town prepared weapons as well as pots and stands for cooking, and pickaxes to deeper explore the mines, and hatchets to cut down trees. He would only go for perfection, with one mistake; he would melt down the item and try again. He was of a bigger build than the rest of the villagers due to the constant work he puts into his profession. He also tended to the sheep not far off. He cut off a small opening in the forest to raise sheep there. By that was an area for crops and wheat to grow. They didn’t get much crows in the area, so they pretty much got what they sowed.

Then there was the hunter, Rumhel, who both fished and tracked down beasts to provide for the village. His lean body showed the agility you wouldn’t normally expect from his mid-life age. He wants to catch fish with just one hand, just as of which, in unable to. Due to his stubborn nature, he always comes back with something, even if it’s at late at night. The villagers do tend to worry about him sometime.
Then, there was the mother Lindrish and her two sons, the elder one being Korm, and the younger one was Ignis. When they were young, they used to play in the woods, often running around, chasing each other and more often than not, pretending one was a brave warrior, while the other was an unthinkable beast hidden deep within the forest. Lindrish did worry about them if they got attacked by a wild boar or something, but that’s what mothers tend to do. Korm is now 18, while Ignis is 16.
 
Her husband was a great man, normally going out hunting with Rumhel, and an inspiration to his children. He died when he went to war, feeling like he should do something to protect the village. Even though the war had nothing to do with them, he feared it might spread to their peaceful little dwelling place. Lindrish couldn’t stop Ankin no matter how much she pleaded. It was something he felt was right. There was no word of him returning after about 3 years now, and they assumed the worst.

The final villager was by far the oldest. She was called Tempest. She had been living in the village of Glimahor for almost a year now. She said she came from a great city as an Elder bearing much information on pretty much any subject. The villages did test her on this (with mainly fishing and hunting) and she replied with amazing answers, as if she was a master of all trades. She said she wanted to get away from the city and live a life in peace. They never questioned why. The village was indeed peaceful. There was of course the occasional broken bone and there was once a small fire, but on the whole, one could live in harmony there.

One day, as with every other day, Bokhim was hitting his hammer on a new sword, intending to use three different metals in several places to see if that would create a great balance overall. These experiments don’t normally go too well, but at least it keeps him off the thought of constant war that seems to linger in his mind. Rumhel was in the lake, perfecting his hand-eye coordination to catch fish with one hand, as the boar he got yesterday could still be used for tonight’s dinner. Ignis wanted to try as well, but when Rumhel tried to do something, it’s better to let him do it himself. So he watched Bokhim hammer the sword into shape. Lindrish was weaving a blanket together for the upcoming winter. Korm was looking for firewood.

The sound of hooves trotting slowly grew louder and louder. Bokhim, as he would normally in this most rare occasion, stopped his work and went to grab his best sword and shield. He stood guard as the three horsemen came into view. Their armour gleamed in the sun, and their weapons make Boknim’s work look like mere child’s play.

“What do you want?” asked Bokhim. “And how did you know about this village?”

“Relax, fair villager,” the middle horsemen asked. “We don’t wish to fight with you, only to talk to your village. Please, gather everyone up. This won’t take long.”

“And if I don’t?” replied Bokhim.

“Then we might have to fight you anyway. Please, we don’t any blood spilt.”

Bokhim went to gather everyone, convinved they wouldn’t do any harm. Rumhel was annoyed as he claimed to have nearly done it, but Bokhim had distracted him. The gathering didn’t take very long. They stood in a semi-circle in front of the horsemen.

“I see,” said the middle horsemen, clearly expecting more from the village. “Is this your whole village?”

They all nodded. The three horsemen all muttered to each other, with a peculiar mix of surprise and a sense of obviousness, as if they were told something but didn’t believe it, until they saw it for their own eyes. They looked at each of the villagers, only they seemed to stare at Ignis a little longer than everyone else.

“Have you heard of the Sun God Apollo?” the middle horsemen asked. Most of the villagers shook their heads, apart from Tempest, who nodded just the once.

“Well, the Lord Apollo is in need of a young lad. He told us he would be here, in this village. We had no idea of its existence, but here it is. This lad should be this fellow here.” He moved his horse closer and looked at Ignis.

“Do I have to go?” asked Ignis.

“You have a choice in this.” said Tempest. “There is always a choice.”

“Then, if it’s ok with you, I don’t want to.

“Are you sure?” asked the middle horsemen.

“Yes.” replied Ignis. The horsemen muttered to each other.

“Very well, we shall leave you in peace. Thank you fro your time, fair villagers.” The horsemen turned around and left. After a while, they were out of sight.

“Well,” started Bokhim. “That was pretty uneventful.” And with that, turned back to his unfinished sword and attempted to finish it. Everyone else went back to what they were doing. Not even concerned with the slightest bit of curiosity, Ignis went back to watching Bokhim work on his sword. The day went on from there as normal. The dinner consisted of a stew with carrots and potatoes. Bokhim managed to finish off his sword, and was a little disappointed that the balance was slightly off by the hilt. He would test the durability of it in the morning. If it can chop wood, it can cut a foes head off.

“Bokhim can be a little disturbing sometimes.” stated Runhel.

“He is only concerned for the safety of the village.” said Lindrish. “It’s not like he’s going to kill us all in our sleep.”

“I know, it’s just, can’t he just relax for a bit?”

The night went on, as it normally does, uneventfully. Ignis insisted that he slept in a different hut to his mother’s since his 16th birthday, just like his brother. They were right next to each other, one either side of Lindrish’s one. Ignis woke up to some muttering. A little dazed by sleep, he couldn’t recognise the voice. Then the voice was raised a little, almost into a frantic panic. Ignis realised this was his mothers voice. She seemed frightened, which naturally frightened Ignis. However, what frightened Ignis the most was that there wasn’t a sound after that. Just some steeps. Was she sleep-walking? Concerned, he walked outside to check if she was alright. It was dark, and he could hardly see a thing. As soon as he got to his mothers tent, before he could look inside, he felt a very powerful blow to his head, something like a club. He blacked out there and then.

Ignis woke up to a pounding headache, with Rumhel by his side. It was morning. He tried to get up.

“Hey, take it easy.” said Rumhel. “You were hit pretty badly. Here, drink some water.” He handed Ignis a skin flask for him to drink from. Ignis did so gratefully. Bokhim was also there. He couldn’t see where Tempest, Krom or his mother was.

“Where-“ Ignis started, but Rumhel gave him a piece of partchment that explained everything. It said:

            You had to want to come. There was no use kidnapping you. If you want to see your relatives again, please follow the map below. Sorry, but since you said no, this was the only way. We cannon deny Lord Apollo’s wishes. The Elder will be needed for knowledge connected to this.

Under the paragraph was a map to where he needed to go. He felt a little pang of guilt. Had he said yes, then his mother and sibling wouldn’t be in mortal danger. He gathered his things, only nodding to his friends saying they would come along with him. Let them come, he thought. It doesn’t matter either way. The sooner they got on the road to get them back, the better. Not even thinking what would happen or what they would do to him when he got there, he set off to a journey that would change his life.

“….And then Pyrrhon set off through the woods of Glimahor to his first adventure. He would find some way to pay those soldiers for what they did. The journey took some time, but the road was smooth and the weather was kind. When Pyrrhon got there, he had no idea what he was in for, and had no clue that is was merely the beginning. Now I am weary, Pyrrhon will tell you more later. But now, I must rest.”
And so ends part 1.