Phaethonides knew from a young age he was to do great things. Given up to fight in the slave pits, he survived. In the harsh crucible that was the gladiator's arena, he was molded. Violence was the way of things for his early life. As he grew, he became stronger, quicker, more capable than any thought possible. And he won. Man or beast, alone or an army. It mattered little to the chimera. Victory was as assured as the sun rising another day.
Though it seemed he was delt a bad hand, Phaethonides made the most of it. He rose through the ranks, acclaiming fame and, eventually, fortune and freedom with it. And all this before he'd reached his majority. A free man, he still kept to the pits. He knew little else of life after all. And good as he was, he feared little of losing.
He knew little of his parentage. His mother was a lowly street whore who'd sold him for some bread money. His father was, ostensibly, one of the many customers she'd entertained before his birth. He knew neither of their names nor if they were alive. All that changed on the day he became a man. As a slave, he didn't know how old he was and records weren't kept for him in the chance he became free. A commoner in birth, it mattered little more than if he were a slave anyways. But upon his eighteenth birthday he awoke to a vision of fire and light. His father had laid claim to his lineage, as was the way of all demi-gods upon reaching majority. Phaethon, god of the sun and sky, was his sire.
Though he could not speak directly to the divine, the chimera interpreted from the visions that his sire was incensed at his son's treatment. It was a blaspheme to the heavens themselves that his son could be enslaved. Divine punishment was to be enacted, and Phaethonides was to be the instrument. He rallied the oppressed to him, the serfs and the trod upon, the slaves and the gladiators. Many who felt unseen and unappreciated joined his banner. A movement was born.
The masters and the rulers fought, as one would expect. They tried with words and threat, with armies and sorceries. But it did little to slow Phaethonides' rebellion. Though it was hard fought, the rebels would storm the imperial palace and depose the sitting Sebastos, the emperor of all the Civilized Lands. Phaethonides was installed as Sebastos and all citizens freed. Though he longed to free all those who resided within his new empire, he didn't free non-citizens who made the bulk of the slaves. His nation survived only on the backs of those driven by the whip, and with new enemies always nipping at the heels of the Civilized Lands, he had to choose his battle wisely, least perfect become the enemy of progress.
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Aaaand yet another character finally gets posted. This is Phaethonides. I bought him from \r\n\t\t\t\t\t
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Phaethonides Asteriphon Sebastos (c) \r\n\t\t\t\t\t
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Art (c) \r\n\t\t\t\t\t
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