Cruel Destiny (Angel)

A blizzard tore at Famulus’ powerful wings. He was flying with all his strength towards its centre. The gusts of wind and sheets of snow threatened to send the angel to a frozen death, trapped deep beneath the thousands of years of snowfall. Try as they may, they were no match for his limitless will.

Far below Cicero could see deep chasms of darkness, they sliced open the white landscape, a sword in nature’s side. Rising about the fearsome abysses were mountains of the whitest, purest snow. From a distance they seemed almost like frosting, laid tall and wide on the earth’s sweet brown crust. No clouds were in the sky, instead a mass of the darkest blue filled their thrones, blanketing out the warmth of the fiery sun. The snow fell in huge waves. It seemed as though there was a giant, hiding somewhere beyond that navy sky, he was playing, dipping his bucket deep into a mound of snow and quickly empty its contents on top of the unsuspecting world. His joyful laugh was the high pitched wailing of the wind.

Famulus had decided to leave his armour at camp, here it would do nothing but slow him and weigh him down. Instead he had opted for a long, black silken cloak. He had placed a simple enchantment on it, one to protect him from the harsh subzero temperatures and help retain his precious body heat. Its surface had an orange glow about it. The angel's wings pressed on strong and hard, unceasing, their rhythmic motion barely audible over the howling wind. With every fall and rise of the powerful limbs, they shed a coating of white snow which fell in flakes, gravity carrying them to the earth so far below. His hazel eyes were pulled open against the snowstorm. A sudden flash of light flickered across them. In the distance, still some way away lay a temple, its form pulsating in the darkness, as though some rich heart was beating deep within. The angel’s wings beat stronger yet.

The general arrived at the doors of the temple, his body exhausted but his mind strong and keen. This was it. Vallaris, the Eternal Prison. He knew the legends, as did his prey.

Famulus walked up to the threshold, he could see the temple’s massive structure clearly now. The walls were tall and thick, a gargantuan silver door was set against the snow. Its weather-beaten and worn surface made it all the more intimidating. Every piece of the temple, except the giant door, seemed to pulsate, Famulus hadn’t imagined it. The walls beat, changing from purest white to darkest black and back again with the rhythm of the temple’s heart. The air was thick and dense with enchantments. Famulus walked around the entire building, running his hand across its surface, feeling its reinforcements. Vallaris must have been miles long and just as wide. Finally, the solitary angel returned to the front door, the only entrance he could find. He set about opening it.

Not even Famulus Cicero, one of the finest enchanters of Heaven recognised the seals and locks on the door. It was layered and layered with ancients magic. The angel ran his fingers across each separate invisible enchantment, he could feel their power, their strength. He was searching for something.

Finally he found it. Hidden deep with the magical residue he felt it. A sluggish, heavy tainted air yet with a mix of lightness about it. It was his target’s magical marker. He had been here, he had entered the temple. Excitement fluttered in Famulus’ stomach, his burning vengeance could feel its end nearby. Stifling his emotions, the angel went back to work, delving deeper yet into the magical fabrications that coated the door.

Something stuck beneath his fingertips. He had found it, the lock on Vallaris’ magical barricade. Slowly, he grasped the ethereal handle, twisting his wrist and bringing it towards him, he could feel the chain of magical energies following close behind. His emotions jumped forth again, his excitement building. He was so close!

Suddenly, the lock snapped. The chain of energy exploded in the chilled air, a flash filled Famulus’ eyes and a bang his ears. A powerful gush of wind crashed against his torso sending him flying across the snow laden ground. Something had gone wrong, horribly wrong.

A horrid crunching filled the angel’s ears. It was like two giant hands, grinding and twists their massive knuckles against one another. Famulus’ eyes began to recover from the flash of magical light, panic began to build up inside him. Before him the silver door lay in ruins, the walls crunching down on top of it. The entire building slowing collapsed inwards, sinking deeper and deeper into the soft snow. It was closed for evermore.

“No! No! No!” He rushed to his feet, leaping on the sinking blocks of stone. He slammed his fists against the hard surface, again and again and again. “Open! Open you god forsaken atrocity! I Famulus Cicero, General of Heaven’s Angelic Forces commands you!”

It was no use. It was gone. He had been so close. If only his emotions hadn’t betrayed him. He knew that within Vallaris he would have found the answers he wanted. He knew he would have found Mesfido’s location.

Three months later…

Still it haunted him, the horrible sight of Vallaris sinking into the snow, lost forever. That faint residue of Tueor’s marker had been his last substainal sign of the fallen angel for weeks now. He seemed to have simply disappeared. He could have been dead, but Famulus refused to think that. He and no one else would have the pleasure of killing his humiliator.

He knew full well that his emotions had been a weakness in the past, an Achilles’ heel in his arsenal. But after hundreds of years with nothing more than the faintest whispers of Tueor’s deeds and misdoings his patience was beginning to waver. More than anything else it was anger that he felt, anger at his own foolishness for destroying Vallaris, and with it his best hope of finding his prey - But all was not lost, lately there had been an interesting development. Reportings of a strange winged man who was waging a single-handed war against a clan of demons, slaying and smiting their hordes. Though Famulus hadn’t heard of the fallen angel directly involving himself in the fight against Hell since the War of Alliance, it had immediately taken the general’s interest.

A knock at the door broke his dream like state.

“Enter.”

A young angel peered through the door he had inched open, his face awash with exhaustion. “Father, I have news of Gremard.”

“Ah, prefect. Come in Lustro, come in.” Excitement leapt to life in the general’s stomach. He had sent Gremard, one of his few remaining elite angelic warriors, to investigate the rumours of this winged zealot. “What is this news you have?”

Lustro gulped back a lump that was forming in his throat. “Gremard is dead sir.”

Famulus slammed his fist against the table in frustration, his son winced. The oak splintered beneath his clenched palm, his eyes were ablaze of righteous fury. He pinned them upon the young angel. “How Lustro? How did that fool get caught?”

“A scavenger demon, sir. He was returning from the chasm when he was attacked. He didn’t last long. He was exhausted.”

“A mere scavenger demon! This man I seek can obliterate armies, and he is the most pitiful angel I have ever met, yet somehow, my own warriors, some of Heavens finest can’t deal with a lone scavenger demon!” Famulus began to pace restlessly across the hard stone floor, left, right, left, right. A few loose strands of fine black hair fell around the general’s burning hazel eyes, his wings opened and closed behind his muscled back, his magnificent armour rattled with each and every forceful step. It was strange to think that once, thousands of years in the past Famulus had admired Tueor, more so than any other being but those feelings had long since past. He regained his calm, but Lustro knew all to well what was bubbling up behind that composed façade. “Did he manage he at least manage to collect any information.”

Plucking up his courage, Lustro spoke again. “No sir, but...”

“That damned idiot! He was out there for close to three weeks!” Famulus was fed up of failed missions and useless soldiers. Every time things ended the same way. He would have to do something about, he’d have to start doing everything himself.

“Father, perhaps it isn‘t even Mesfi…”

“Don’t you ever speak that name! I know it‘s him!”

The general’s mind was in a state of turmoil. He had been so close again. He could have wrapped his figures about his vengeance. But no, its elusive nature had let it escape him once more, floating like a wisp of air through his tight grip. He knew this lead was something, the best scrap of information they had found for weeks.

“Sir…”

“What?! What is it?!”

“Gremard did manage to find out one thing. He was able to confirm the sightings, he spoke to a man that had seen the renegade . It’s not just myth.”

Famulus eyes lit up, it was clear, even to the naked eye, that the ancient angel was obsessed, completely and totally with his wish for vengeance. He snapped at his son. “What are you waiting for then?! Why must you always delay me? I must go see for myself! Ready my stead!”

The general streamed out the door of his private quarters and across the courtyard of his temporary camp. He was heading straight to the armoury to prepare himself, to gather his things and then make haste to the burning chasm, where the sightings were originating. He would go himself, he would face his enemy one final time before sealing the fallen angel’s fate. What he didn’t know was that with it his own unexpected destiny would begin to unravel...

* * * *

A horde of demons lay before Mesfido, Master of the Seven Elements. They smashed their weapons against their shields, shaking the black earth. Wave upon wave of their thunderous roars filled the air which was already heavy with death. The Kal-Achity clan were famous for their brutality and fearlessness, although they were not one of the stronger demonic clans. Somehow, this lone angel was singlehandedly obliterating their best troops and warriors. The fallen angel knew he would have to kill every last one of them before he find what he wanted. Sapia, the Light element, had foreseen that it was here, in this burning chasm that he would be able to learn more about the second of the Sword of the Pact’s Essence Seals – Spiritus.

Mesfido’s cobalt eyes watched every movement of the demonic horde. To the east he saw a platoon of doglike demon hounds and to the west a troop of Kal-Achity headsplitters. The demons were trying to flank him. With their vastly superior numbers they could undoubtedly overpower him if they trapped him. He couldn’t allow it. He looked to the Seven Elements deep within him. He chose carefully, calling on the powers of Moneo, the Water element, and Verec, the Earth element.

The fallen angel shifted his attention from the hundreds of demons to the burning chasm that was the battlefield. Geysers of flame erupted high into the night sky, coating the demonic forces in a horrific orange light. Lava flowed freely over the charred earth. No trees or wildlife could be found within miles of this dead land. The demons covered it so thickly that it was hard to see the ground. Mesfido stood on a tall pillar of stone, high above the rough soil. He focused the power of the two elements into his body. A look of deep, prefect concentration entered his clear eyes. He raised his angelic hands towards the clouded heavens.

Demonic screams filled the air.

Giant, stone spears burst forth from the charred earth, piercing demon skin and bone alike. A colossal wave of pure water swelled out from the pillar where the angel stood, crashing down on the demon army that tried to surround him. Even the lava geysers seemed to have been doused. Mesfido looked around at the devastation he had sown. The land was covered with mutilated, putrid corpses but still, the demons spilled forward. He had only taken out the weakest; he could see many pulling themselves back up. He would have to fight hand to hand eventually.

And so the battle continued, the demons advancing cautiously forward and the angel forcing them back with the power of his Seven Elements. Then, there was a sudden change in the wind. A wretched howl tore across the field.

From his viewing point Mesfido watched in horror as a wolf like creature materialized behind the ranks of the demons. It seemed Kal-Achity herself had finally appeared. The wolf-demon towered above the hordes, easily twenty foot tall, her blood-drenched teeth metres in length, and her claws sharp as daggers. She let loose another horrific cry, her dark, matted fur rising as she arched her powerful back. In the moonlight Mesfido saw something else, even more terrifying than the matriarch of the Kal-Achity tribe. Celina Augustus, the White Temptress.

What in heaven’s name is she doing here...?

A group of elite hellspawn formed her private guard. He watched as the demonic angel lifted her two blades, Invidia and Incestus, and pointed them directly at him. The wolf-demon, the army and the hellspawn stampeded towards the Master of the Seven Elements.

Mesfido acted as quickly, drawing out the power of all his Seven Elements. Arden and Libra united their powers, launching a fiery hurricane which hurtled into the remaining Kal-Achity clan, many of the demons instantly turning to ash. Moneo and Verec used their power on the land, covering it in water and lifting colossal earthen pillars from beneath the waves. The mast Mesfido stood rose even higher into the turbulent sky. Umbru and Sapia focused their strength into cords of light and shadow, rocketing at the huge wolf-beast, binding her with their will. Finally, Animo, striking with a giant thundercloud, lashed out at the temptress and her warriors. Celina had lost one of her guard, Kal-Achity had been dragged into the new sea and many more of demon horde had fallen, but still the strongest came forward, many flying with leathery wings, others hopping from pillar to pillar.

Though the angel had killed so many, he had used little of his own powers. Most of the Seven Elements were feeling drained, but Mesfido himself was still fresh. He revelled at the chance to purge the world of these foul creatures.

The first leapt onto the fallen angel’s pillar, slashing with its bright red claws. Mesfido wrenched Verax from its sheath, parrying the rapid blows. He pivoted, slicing the beast in two, and ready to face its comrades.

The scene became a blur of sound and movement. Weapons clashed in midair, fists crushed bone, teeth pierced flesh and blood burst from bodies. Dozens of demon corpses lay at the angel’s feet. A blast of Libra’s Wind element spewed out from Mesfido, tossing the rotting bodies from the small fighting ground and into the water far below. The remaining demons circled the angel, moving slowly from one stone perch to the next or floating high in the air. Mesfido could see Celina watching in the background, handing out orders to her guard. He drew pleasure from the tense look on her face; it seemed she had expected him to go down easy.

Again the demons came at him. Two went down with a single flick of Verax, the next with a blast of Arden’s fire. Three more bounded forward, only to be crushed by a blast of Moneo’s water. Another five met their death in Sapia’s blinding light, standing no chance against the Light element’s purity. Now, finally, not but three Kal-Achity remained, along with Celina Augustus and her demonic entourage. Or so it seemed.

A massive form broke the restless water’s surface. Kal-Achity had broken her bonds and was coming straight at Mesfido. Over the wind the angel heard Celina’s cry, “Now, attack now!” He saw the hellspawn joining the charging wolf-demon. They were attempting to overwhelm him. There was but one way to deal with this kind of assault.

Arden, be ready, thought the angel, communicating with the Fire element in his mind.

I am, master, came the reply.

“Exardesco Ardens!” Boomed the angel’s voice, flames bursting to life all over his muscular body. He could feel Arden pumping his power into him, helping him maintain the gigantic surge of firepower.

Even the fearless demons paused momentarily at the sight of the flame wreathed Mesfido, holding the white hot inferno of Verax before him. He wasn’t done yet.

Ready Sapia?

As always, master.

Pure white light engulfed Mesfido, the light energy building in his veins.

“Decerno Sanctus Aestus!” Flame and light erupted from the fallen angel’s form, incinerating every last demon.

Mesfido gazed around him, breathing heavily; even Corpus et Sanguis couldn’t prevent the exhaustion caused by such an immense release of energy. There was a single slender figure left – Celina. The fallen angel gathered himself, feeding off his hatred for the foul woman. His winged jumped to life, sending him rocketing towards her.

An evil smirk crossed her pale face. “Not this time Mefi.”

She vanished.
* * * *
There was one presence nearby that the fallen angel had not sensed. High above in the clouds, atop a pegasus sat Famulus Cicero, he had watched it all. The angelic commander was outraged, how on earth was he meant to get his revenge when Tueor’s power had grown so much? It was then that the White Temptress reappeared, coated in a cloud of mist. She and Famulus were far out of sight of the fallen angel, who was resting some distance below.

“It’s been a long time Famulus.” Celina’s voice was sweet and songlike.

Famulus spun his head to look at her, staring at her misty form in disbelief. Her pale gold eyes gazing straight into his. “Celina...? I thought you were dead?” The general knew nothing of her satanic rebirth.

“I am,” An extra layer of deceit was added to her gentle sing-song tones. “My ghost has come back for revenge, just like you Famulus. He killed me and I can’t rest till he is dead but I can’t do it myself, I don’t have the power to kill him now.”

Famulus was taken by her siren song, were it not for his desire for vengeance, he would have smelt her lies a mile away. “Neither can I, but how am I meant to match that kind of power?” His body shook as his anger began to build.

“But you don’t have to Famulus. Why not get someone else to do your dirty work? You remember the command that the Council gave Mesfido when they exiled him, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes I do! They told him to protect the sword; never did they tell him to use it!”

“That’s right, clearly he failed to protect it from himself. You must tell them this, you must make them punish him.” Again, another subtle layer was melded with the demon’s tones.

“Oh yes! That’s prefect, they must sentence him to his death. He has failed to keep his only promise! Celina, you must come with me and help me sway them.” Famulus knew only too well that the Council had a weak spot for Mesfido in the past.

“I can’t Famulus. I can’t return to heaven as a ghost. However, I can give you this,” Celina lifted her fingertip to her temple, drawing out a long strand of shimmering, white thread. She handed the cord to the general. “Show it to them. It will help your cause.” With that, the White Temptress work was done. She disappeared once more, carried by the Northern Wind.

Famulus was left to ponder what she had said, the magic of her song still lingered in his mind. The angel looked intently at the thin, wiry thread, wondering what it could be. He placed it carefully in his armour and set course for the Gates of Heaven.


OoC: For those that don't know them- Famulus Cicero and Celina Augustus.

You have returned, Watcher.

The souls are at peace, sire. At least for now.

There is never peace, Vergil. That word is an illusion, a deception to the eyes of all. As long as there is existence, there is no peace.

Your knowledge is vaster than mine, sire. I have submitted my will unto you many times, and this day is no different. Who is my next charge?

The dead are tended to by your brethren for now, but your next charge is a task from the Hierarchs. What that is, I do not know.

You would have me tend to their whim, sire?

They made a special request for this, Vergil. Do not become over zealous and forget your betters still tend to the lower planes.

As you wish me, sire.

In a flash, a corporeal form appeared within the angel’s quarters. Tanned skin, followed by white robes and a set of wings that soon disappeared from sight, landed with a thump on the floor. Sighing intently, Vergil composed himself the best way his roguish look could be called decently, and headed for the door of his chamber.

~

Making his way to the Hierarchs chamber was half the battle. Vergil had to squeeze himself through several scores of lesser beings standing idly about, gawping at where they were and what surrounded them. Soon enough, he arrived at his destination. A door, gargantuan in proportions and wreathed in golden designs, stood before him. Had he been a somewhat less significant figure, he would’ve turned and walked away, knowing what was behind the door. But not much troubled him, not anymore. Brushing the door open with a flick of his hand, the angel entered the colossal room beyond.

OoC: Yeah, short. :/