Aion was once the most beautiful realm in the world of creation. Many lands were connected by the aether that ascended into the skies of the primordial world. The people that dominated the sky carried the blood of their gods, demigods themselves.

The daeva traversed the lands of the heavens freely. Only forbidden access to lands held by their competing families.

The Sat Danava represents the order of the heavens, and their wings are defined by their pristine feathers. White, black, grey, brown…. and red.

Opposed in identity were the Asat Danava. This tribe bore leathery wings. And, as the Sat represented order, the Asat represented chaos.

Though kindred in species, the races of the daeva held little love for their cousins.

Before the Calamity, there was some measure of unity between the tribes. A mutual respect, if not fondness.

But, when the Creator divided the realms and stranded the armies of the gods in their respective domains, the daeva had no more enemies to direct their bestial wrath upon. None save their closest kin.

"He's gone too far!"

The yelling could be heard across the island.

"Calm yourself, my lady. Your father is only acting as the oracle suggests."

"Tch," a woman with beautiful black wings clicks her tongue. "Then perhaps he should marry that wyrm."

The woman looked out from the balcony on the floating island she called home. In the highest of heavens known, the horizon was inky with the touch of the abyss. The stars seemed so close that one could reach out and pluck them from their place.

The island Tar'shia called home held much beauty. But, in her eye, was only a ruin.

The beautiful floating islands of Aion had passed with the ages. Even with the blessing of immortality that the daeva possessed, very few of her kind still had memory of its glory.

War and struggle for petty dominance had bled the old and made way for the new.

Tar'shia rested her hands on the railing of her lofty balcony. Her eyes searched the endless sky for the most repugnant of things, her betrothed.

As a daughter of royal blood, it was expected that she would be married off for the profit of her king and father. But, never had she imagined he would disgrace her like this.

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She was Sat Danava, a princess of her people, and her father had arranged her marriage with a chaotic Asat.

A mixed-blood marriage. The very thought revolted her.

She would beget a monster, a red-winged Sat Danava. She'd rather it have the leather wings of the snake. But, the bloodlines always run red in mixed daeva.

"My lady," her attendant began. "The oracle says…."

"The oracle!" Tar'shia yells. "The oracle whispers in my father's ear myth!"

The young daeva, a brown feathered woman, who attended her princess shut her mouth and endured. But, she was not so passive as to let her lady's tirade shake her. Daeva were rarely cowed.

"The Convergence this. The Pillar of Creation that. The Calamity is a bunch of stories told by the senile. We live in Aion!

"The Sat have shed oceans of blood to keep what's ours from those serpents. How can my father talk of peace and unity. We are enemies!"

As Tar'shia huffed, her brown-winged attendant sighed, "Perhaps, my lady, it is time for peace."

Her lady's expression was severe.

The attendant raised her hands, "If what the oracle said is true, then our gods are returning. Goddess Vritas is returning."

Tar'shia's expression softened.

Vritas, the true queen of the daeva, Goddess of Order and Chaos. How could a daeva not long for her return?

What price would be too great to bring her goddess into the world she knew?

But, aren't some things too much to ask?

A red-winged daeva is an abomination. Even the chaos-loving Asat agreed on this point.

"You were always destined to marry a man you would not love, my lady. You are now destined to raise a child you do not love. But, peace for our goddess is the price you must pay."

"Tch."

Tar'shia jumped from the balcony and spread her wings. Great gusts of wind propelled behind the princess as she flew into the endless sky.

Her attendant followed. Though, not so close as to infuriate her lady.

They traveled for hours into the heart of Sat territory. Eventually coming upon a diminutive island with a pond, filled with black water, at its center. All around the pond, the land was barren red rock and dust.

A lone figure stood, with white wings folded behind its back. The figure was that of a beautiful woman in the prime of her life.

Tar'shia flew down to the figure and balled her fist. For a moment, the thought of casting a magic missile at the woman crossed her mind.

"Oracle," she said in a low and menacing tone.

"Hello, princess."

The white-winged woman turned around and looked with foggy white eyes at the young daeva.

Tar'shia sneered as she looked at her senior.

"Tell me," she said with as much control as she could manage. "Everything you told my father."

The oracle showed no joy or dissatisfaction. The princess' arrival was no surprise.

"Princess, you will marry the prince of the Asat. And yes, you will bear a red winged daeva."

She waited for a moment before saying, "You will be rewarded for your service to the gods."

"Hmph," Tar'shia was not appeased.

"Aion will descend. As will the other higher planes. And, in the fall, the firmament will break. The heavens will bleed and the lands will be sundered.

"But in the destruction, the fragmented pieces will find their proper place."

Tar'shia listened with more than a little confusion.

"Why?" she asked. "Why now? Why, after all this time, will this Convergence take place?"

For the first time in Tar'shia's memory, she saw fear on the face of the oracle.

"Princess," the oracle said after a moment of doubt. "The Calamity was only meant to buy time."

The black-winged woman looked past the oracle, "For what?"

The blind daeva turned back and stared into the black water of the pond.

"For the Creator to create an army of his own."