Sanctimonia Foras Mortalitas (Ranarath)

OOC: Yes, I couldn't just be bothered to write out a new opening. This one is a good piece of work, that doesn't deserve being wasted.

BIC:

Aetherion.

One drop can cause a star to burst into existence. More than that can obliterate an entire galaxy in seconds. This substance was deemed as dangerous by the Creator upon his finishing of the Universe, and was to be locked away. Its use in the wrong hands would be deadly to every living being. The Order, with the approval of the Hierarchs, assigned the Seven to watch over the nexus-world where the Aetherion was kept. Still, placing one of the most lethal substances in a secure place wouldn’t be an end to it. The Order commissioned a sect known as the Illuminati to discover how, if at all, the Aetherion could be destroyed, or even made into a form where it was stable.

Tests were carried out, all in the name of progress. Subjects, lesser angels, were used to see if the Aetherion could be bonded to a creature’s cell structure. Most of these test subjects became unstable within mere seconds of being injected with the liquid, and overloaded with power. These poor souls were forced to self destruct in order for their own power to be released. Still, the Illuminati called this a development. Soon enough, they did make a breakthrough. Several of the higher angels who had come into contact with Aetherion were able to contain and regulate the power they acquired with the help of an anti-matter object placed upon their person. Elemental prowess increased tenfold, with no apparent side effects. However, no subjects ever survived having more than one drop of Aetherion.

This did little to figure out how to disperse the Aetherion, since the number of higher angels was extremely limited due to many having died in the Great War. The problem became worse when, at the turn of the first Century on Earth, the Aetherion started to increase in volume. Apparently, access power from events caused on Earth was siphoned off into the nexus world, feeding the Aetherion. Before the substance completely engulfed the nexus-realm, the Illuminati proposed one last idea. Destroy the nexus world from the outside, crushing the Aetherion in with it and sealing it off from the universe. Decision of whether or not this should or would happen was to be left up to The Order and The Hierarchs. Instead of quarreling about it, a decision was made. Each side would pick a fighter of their choice, and whoever won would get to choose what would happen. Two candidates were picked, and were brought to the nexus world prison of the Aetherion. What happened there would never be revealed to anyone except the highest of angels, as well as a few people who had managed to argue their way onto the realm to see the outcome of this epic fight.

- Vretil, Angelic Keeper of the Sacred Book

~

Feel the blades power course through you.

No, it feels…unjust, to use its power.

You must learn to use all of the weapons my spirit granted you, Valion. That includes Acerbus. I know, the Dark Element is something that an angel would not be accustomed to, but you must get used to it. Elements are just shades of power, and to fully grasp it, you must be able to use every single one of them flawlessly.

Swinging the arcane blade in his right hand, Valion slid forward on his foot, slashing out at a tree. Branches dropped to the floor with a thud, beginning to rot in mere moments as the Dark Element destroyed them from within. He swung again, this time slicing through a nearby stone. The crack spread from the center to the very edge, the boulder turning to dust. Blowing away as a gust of wind crept through, it left nothing of the stone that was there only a few seconds ago.

For one who claims to hate Dark Element, your skill with Acerbus is impressive.

Influence helps a lot, Virtus. This fool would not know how to wield the power that the dark blade brings.

Forcing the two spirits to the back of his head, the mechanical angel wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. When he brought it away, there seemed to feel like there was more on than when he had started. Then again, the Water Element within did nothing but play about with his internal liquids. He wasn’t able to control it yet, but with time he should. The gaining of Virtus had had an admirable effect upon the angel’s physique. His fleshy muscles had become more pronounced, and his speed and strength had crept up, albeit slightly. His hair had developed a duller tone, as well as his irises. Both were starting to lose their individual colors to become what seemed to be a lapis lazuli color. There were some disadvantages to the upsides. The voices in his head, except from R.V’s, had grown louder, and were harder to disperse from his mind. There were random occurrences of headaches that disappeared only seconds after crippling Valion with pain. At times, the power within was starting to yearn for a release. Touching anything when he was like that caused them to either grow exponentially or disintegrate. And the worst part was trying to occupy himself with something like a trivial little task. His attention was always diverted, such as thoughts induced by Hadriel or Virtus, or the random headaches. These he would grow used to. Hopefully.

Releasing his fingers from around the hilt of the dark weapon, he let it fade out of existence. It went unnoticed as another sword appeared in his hands, Luminarium. Swinging the sword around with a smile, he swung at the same tree once more. As the hook made contact, fresh branches jumped out of the stumps, petals blossoming along them and growing to an enormous size. Valion was so enveloped in the task at hand, he didn’t notice the figure materialize to his left. Dressed in a rather aristocratic robe that did nothing to hide his wings, he walked towards Valion, undaunted by the weapon he held, or even by the mixed aura he could see around him.

“Valion Mithian?”

Turning on his heel with his sword raised, the angel was taken aback by the figure he saw before him.

“Yes?”

“I am a messenger, sent by The Order. You are to come with me.”

“What for?”

“That will be resolved when we get there.”

What a pompous fool. He expects you to do anything he wants, like a lap dog.

The mechanical angel couldn’t help but agree with the spirit. His disgrace had lead him to believe that the angelic community had shunned him for eternity, and now, one of them was here, demanding that he go with him.

“If you know my name, sir, then you know what has happened to me. The Heaven Gate is locked for me. I cannot return.”

“You have no choice in the matter on whether you go or not, sire.” Without waiting for an answer, the angel stepped forward and grabbed Valion by the wrist. Before he could react to this, the two disappeared, fading into a white haze before disappearing completely.

One always hears of the desire to live. Unknown strength and willpower given to those who burn with a desire to continue existing, even in the throes of death. However, no one ever speaks of the desire to die, a desire that most certainly exists. The need to return to nothingness, an existence without pain, hurt, and hatred but also without joy, love, and happiness. A desire brought on by the worthlessness of one’s life, the torment of a broken heart, the anger at all that comes to pass. Yet this feeling doesn’t exist in all things as the will to live does. Only those that have the ability to feel self-doubt experience this drive. In some instances, the desire to go to non-existence can be stronger than the will to continue one’s existence. How powerful it can be, the desire to die.

Adonis contemplated as he absentmindedly plucked the strings of Naraka. Blood ran down the strings, staining the bard’s hand red with wet stickiness, a testament to the atrocities it helped commit. The physical presence of the blood wouldn’t be hard to get rid of. A simple stream or pond would wash it off. No, it was the reason the blood was there that would forever sully his fingers. The blood the harp wept almost seemed to come from the streams of red that trickled around the undead’s feet.

This village, like so many others, had accepted the songster’s presence with open arms, not knowing what awaited them. Then they gave themselves to death as he sang his greatest song. Thanatos’ Desire did not force people to kill themselves; it simply elevated the desire to die that a person already had. People had thrown themselves from roofs, stabbed their chests, drown in any puddle of water, and poisoned their life with everyday substances. Though, Adonis could always tell which persons were close to ending their lives before he came along. They always had the most dramatic deaths. One woman had died near him in a glorious way. She had taken a poison that would stop her heart in only a few minutes. But, before the poison could fully spread, the woman had taken a knife and had attempted to cut out her own heart. It was hard to determine what had killed her first, the poison or the loss of blood.

However, even in the depth of his own thoughts, the bard did not fail to notice a newcomer to the scene. Dressed in a long, white robe with a smaller, black one showing underneath, the angel did nothing to hide his most glorious aspect: a pair of full, feathery white wings that almost glowed in brilliance. “Adonis Ronen,” he stated, his voice like a melodious strain, “your work has not gone unnoticed. Especially by those whose task is to guide souls to Heaven. You’ve kept them busy.” A small smile tugged at the angel’s lips.

A rumble emerged from the undead’s shadow as the familiar prepared to spring. Stay where you are, Adonis commanded Flauros and then turned his attention to the white being, “What do you want of me, messenger?” A bit of contempt was added to the meager title.

“I am an angel of The Hierarchs and I have come for you. Your... assistance is needed by us,” the messenger worded his request or, rather, demand carefully.

The bard turned away, “I do not have... permission to go with you. Leave me.” He began to pluck at Naraka’s strings once more, wanting nothing to do with angels and their ways.

“I see you do not realize the power we have over the souls of deceased. Can I not offer freedom?”

The milky eyes closed as Lucia swam into his mind’s eye, “I don’t need release from my bondage. I do this of my own free will.”

The angel smiled with cunning, “It wasn’t your freedom I offered. We can free others.”

Adonis’ head snapped upwards, astonishment on his features, “You... you could free her?” Tears filled the corner’s of his eyes, “You could free Lucia?” Feeling his desperation, the demon growled at his master, “Not command. Against Her.”

The holy being held out a hand, “Come.”

OoC: Well, I kinda managed to salvage my post.

Time and space became the stepping stones in the crossing of which the angel dragged Valion. It was with a rather nauseating feeling, as if his stomach had been left back in the grove. Closing his eyes against the while flare of the tunnel, Valion turned his head in the general direction of the messenger.

“Exactly how much longer do you plan-” his words were cut out with a sudden stop and a short drop onto a metal surface, landing headfirst in a feathered heap.

“We have arrived at our destination. Please, try to make yourself presentable before we begin, I wouldn’t want to let the members of the Order think my journey wasted.” Smoothing out imaginary creases in his own cloak, the angel walked stiffly off.

Though he is a competent wretch…methinks this journey might be profitable…

Valion shut out the dark voice, and collected himself from the floor. With a first appearance, one would’ve thought it metallic, but on closer inspection, it appeared to be some kind of pulsating rock. It was warm under the cyborg’s feet, and a pleasant aura radiated up through him, making him feel energized.

If you care too look around, Valion, you’d realize what this place is…or was, for that matter… Virtus remarked dryly. He lifted his gaze from the floor, and was greeted with a sight of spectacular awe. He had landed in an atrium, with various walls and objects around him. Yet everything seemed to be conjoined to the pulsating mass beneath them. They glowed, sparkled, and shimmered with radiant colours, their own natural tint overcome by it. An archway, through which the messenger had gone, was constantly growing and shrinking, in a steady heartbeat rhythm.

“Lets see what Heaven has to offer the damned,” Valion chuckled. Quickly righting his coat into a more suitable position, the mechanical angel made for the exit.

Ooc: I do believe I made a posty. x3

Adonis had never traveled through dimensions before. However, the experience felt strongly similar to dying. The undead never wished to feel that again. He gazed around at his surroundings, noting an almost-living pulse that throbbed through the stonework. “Where... have you brought me?”

“To the other side of after-death,” the angelic messenger responded cryptically. “It will be a bit before The Hierarchs will wish to see you. Until then, please wait here and try not to wander off.” Before anymore inquires could be made, the angel walked briskly away, presumably to tell his superiors of the bard’s presence.

The other side? He stepped lightly around the entrance atrium, listening the pulse. The colors the coated the room dimmed and brightened with each throb. Adonis could only compare it to the heartbeat of some massive being. He stepped up to a pillar, put both hands on it, and rested his head against it. It had been such a long time since he had heard any kind of heartbeat. Perhaps, all his own heart needed was a little push...

Fool...

The songster looked up. He could barely hear his familiar’s voice. Turning to his shadow, he saw that it still carried the red tint of the hiding demon.

Weak... Bad place...

A bad place? Hm, the other side? No... It couldn’t be possible. Certainly that angel didn’t bring him to Heaven? It was inconceivable. People like him couldn’t be in Heaven, not those that willing killed others and were bonded to a demon. But perhaps that was were he had been taken. It was strange, the undead only then realized that he couldn’t feel the presence of the Mistress. In fact, he began to wonder why he was still moving at all. It has always been his assumption that it was her power that kept him moving... and killing.

A grinding sound caught his attention. He turned to the archway, which grew and shrink in rhythm with the heartbeat. I wonder if it is time for me to meet these Hierarchs. He slowly walked though the archway, hunched over with his cloak close around him. While it was how he normally traveled, it gave him even more of a pitiful appearance in someplace as great as this. The room he came to was even greater than the previous one, though not because of the room itself. It was circular in design, with the floor only reaching inwards about halfway. He approached the edge of the floor and looked into the swirling mass below. Awe was easily readable on even his deceased features. Whatever was rotating below him, it was easily more powerful than anything he had felt, including the Mistress. However, his contemplation was short-lived as he heard footsteps enter into the same room.

OoC: Well, I hope this is kind of what you wanted.