What was I doing?

My mind was a mess, my thoughts entangled with each other whilst a thick haze clouded my judgement. Not once have I stepped into the realm of existence, for eternity I kept myself hidden, but now?

I was about to do something that could and would most likely overthrow the order in this universe, for naught but a selfish wish of mine. Could I bear the weight, the guilt that would inevitably press down onto me when I finished rejiging this whole world?

No, that's not right at all. Those thoughts are exclusive to the weak, I don't have to fear.

I was the creator of all! I will the universe to remain stable, make my descension as insconpicuous as it gets, no one shall ever think of locating me, and help those that need my help. To long have I lurked in the shadows as an impotent bystander, watched countless lives wilting from once lush blossoms into thorny scrubs, observed the demise of empires and kingdoms caused by the avarice of just one.

Master of all, Progenitor of existence and reality, I was all of it and now I will show it. Let them flock to me, those that wish me harm, and they shall find their end by my hands. 

But you can't protect them all!

What a foolish thought. I CAN!

My protection is absolute, my doing is perfect, my being is truth! I am only with fault as long as I permit it.

And here I am, back at my old habits. This perfection is what kept me apart from the worlds, I saw myself as to grand of a being, as limitless and without mistake. That I am pondering on this thought alone proves otherwise. For the sake of myself, for the sake of the beings I will encounter I shall be with fault. I vow that I would not be perfect, that I am but a creature of nigh limitless might, that I should not forget about the concept that maybe, just maybe, something bigger looms above me. Lest I wish to fall to my own grave I will not forget like those 'Gods' did.

Renewed in my courage and vigor I took clangorous steps, reveberating through reality, approaching the blue light with steady gait.

The image of two sisters, one dead and one dying, one 'good' and one 'evil', seared itself into my mind. It was a dismal display of what war, what strive born by hunger for power, could cause to those enmeshed within.

Through the magic of summoning I heard the cries of my caller, her shouts and curses towards the heavens, the gods that watched their vassals fall with callous eyes, the kings that commanded her hand, her sword, and fate that made her slay her own kin.

I stopped halfway through the magical portal, the pathway that would lead me to a real life, a life worth living. My trans-dimensional body, ethereal and intangible, had no access to this lower plane of existence lest I wanted to risk its destruction.

In instants I went through diverse ideas, like the creation of a proxy that would be vested with the ability to harness the power from my real body while having its limitations so that the strain on the world is kept at a minimum. It was the idea I went with. As I said before I could just will the world to remain stable but I was not conceited and ignorant enough to think that there wasn't even a single chance for something to go horribly awry.

The body was created in moments, the fraction of an instant, from scratch. I opted for something light, an embodiment of empathy and caring not 'good' or 'evil'.

It was a quick process to let my consciousness slip into this new body of mine and even quicker to accomodate myself inside my new host.

The connection between this mortal while immortal body to my original being was swiftly errected and soon enough I felt immense power cursing through my now existing veins.

I gave the cullmination of stars, galaxies, chaos and destruction, life and death, image of harmony yet disorder, a last glance. Since the dawn of time I had yet to leave this body, this force of creation, but now was the time to say 'Farewell!' and enjoy my new life.

Quickly before leaving for good I let a slim cane materialize in front of me. Made from grey wood with waving veins and a soft knob as a tip I gripped it strongly, felt the rough grain and heat from the timber and took the final step through the fluctuating gate.

My weapon at the ready, my stride determined and my goal clear I set foot into this new world.

POV: ???

Why... Why had fate to be so cruel?

Why did she betray me? I... I tried to be a good sister, a person she could look up to, but all I get is treachery from the person I trusted the most!

Inflame were our hearts by the holy scriptures of Saint Jourinas, his golden words that echoed throughout ones soul. Not once has he lied to us, not once was our order victim of infighting, backstabbing, disorder. In mind we were man but in our hearts we were one unit, fighting for what is right and just.

So why? Why did Elena, why did she fight not the tides of the black moon, the army of the demon king, but us? Why has she raised her sword not to undo the reign of terror established by Melchior's ascension but to fight her brothers and sisters in arms and blood.

I knew why. It was her heart. She didn't share my fervor, my zeal for battle, the urge to purge our lands from the filth that were the demonfolk. She was pure, innocent, by heart a being that could not harm another. And it was this weakness that made her hesitate, that made her doubt the doctrines and turn her blade against us.

"A demon's life has the same value as ours.", she shouted whilst golden prominence exuded from her back. "I will bring this war to an end!", and her sword held true to her words.

Albeit she wished not for death to any of us, for the prospect of a serene and peaceful future she still did.

Tongues of white fire shot down from the skies, her power breaching into the level of divinity, and each touch made us sinners feel the wrath of the heavens.

Around me, friend or foe, all burned to the same ashes, the same cinder, unrecognizable and a short lived memorial for the fallen. Wind would catch the grey ash, carry it into unknown lands, all the same, we were all the same.

Yet... yet my sister had to pay for her sins, the sins of killing our brothers, sisters, our family! She had to atone! I, as the general of Lazaru's Legion, could not let her leave unpunished.

Shining argent while feeling ardent I rushed into battle, sword unsheathed and shield raised up like a mighty battering ram. Fire rained down from the cloudless sky, my sister as the embodiment of a blazing star standing at its center.

Gallant I, no, me and my kin evaded the waves upon waves of gilden fire, with each tide that shattered atop of us our numbers lessened. The demons as cowardly as they are had since long taken flight, let their sole protector fend for herself. I couldn't understand how my sister could empathize with such creatures.

I felt the sting of heat all over my body, sweat dripped through the gaps of my plated armament where the metal had yet to be molten shut by the flames. Around me people succumbed to the deadly inferno that was unleashed onto this vast plain.

"Do not falter!", I shouted atop of my lungs, biting through the pain that shot into my lungs with that single breath. 

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We stormed onward, unstoppable in our march for righteousness, while the flames wheeled over us.

Those with the capacity to invoke the rare magic took it to themselves to create protective barriers, alas they couldn't withstand the constant barrage of divine energy and withered until their casters too were turned to dust.

All the while I asked myself constantly. How could this happen? Why did this happen? My younger sister would have a limitless future, a fruitful one. Her magical might was out of this world. Although her skill with the sword was lacking she made up for it with her otherwordly prowess in the tenets of magic. But I had no idea her powers were bordering at the realm of the divine.

But now it mattered not, all it needed was a swift strike and this nightmare would end. Yes, I just needed.... to kill.... my own sister...

I felt the breaking of bones and soil alike beneath my armored steps, a lampooning cackle over my incompetence quarrying from below.

'I am not far anymore.' I whispered my fatigued mind. 'The end is near.' and it was truly.

With my sight solely fixated on my sister, floating upwards with arched back and agape mouth as if possessed, I didn't notice the lack of comrades, or rather, the death of my comrades. I was the sole, the lone survivor, trudging forward and into the white pyre that stretched heavenwards.

My gauntlets fused with my sword, my shield corroded into an unrecognizable mess, but I was now in reach. In reach to strike her down, my own sister!

I took no stance, I did not prepare myself mentally nor physically, I just wanted this to be over with. And so I latched onto one of her legs dragging her down, the boiling metal causing me and my sister intense pain resulting in a single harmonious scream. The fires around me turned calm as her gaze swept downwards, a tear slipped from her cheeks only to evaporate from the incredible heat. She gave me a genuine smile before all the heat, all the pain, extinguished.

We stood now face to face, the golden light from her back longst formed into two silken wings of angelic beauty. Her heart made her truly ascend.

"Do it now.", she whispered into my ears equally with sorrow as with elation.

And I obeyed her with an ear-splitting cry that ruptured from my sore throat. I took the silver iron -how it pained in my weakening hands- and rammed it through her chest with a feverish tremble. I let the metal slide through her skin, flesh and bones before I retracted this rod of death only to plunge it forward again.

The shiv pierced holes, wider and more voracious with each stab, until my sister was turned into a cold, unmoving heap of flesh. Shuddering I stood up, skimmed the blood and grime from my sword and took a step back.

A silent breeze of wind collected the burned corpses of those around me, left me alone in my grief, before I broke down in tears.

My armor of gold and silver, with marbled fringes and platinum ornaments was nothing more than torn and molten metal now. It slipped from my burned skin, leaving behind patches of blood and raw flesh but the pain did never come. I was empty, devoid of any emotion or feeling as I sat there... and contemplated my life and decisions.

It was not long before my mind plunged into chaos and madness, the pangs of guilt sunk deep into my heart and each second left a taste of blood in my mouth. I killed her. I killed my sister in cold blood. She wanted nothing but peace, to create a haven for all of us to live in, in harmony. For that same goal she was branded heretic by none other than myself, and then slain by my very hands.

I let a stiffled sob escape my lips, the tears continued to drip down on the razed earth like nourishing rain.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!", I shouted, screamed, bawled, for all to hear and see this pitiful excuse of a human being, of those that called themselves 'just', 'righteous' and 'heroic'.

For the written and spoken words of a single person I have killed my sister. The realisation hit me quick and hit me hard. Saint Jourinas was as much of a person as I, as everyone else, was and yet I took his words for absolute, as guidelines for my life. How pathetic!

Since birth I was living a false life, following the words of a person which amounted to as much as the drunken spiel of a waif. I am disgusting, utterly disgusting!

The only words I should have respected were those of my sister, my real family, but I HAD to kill her, I HAD to stop her. Stop her from what exactly? Peace, harmony and equality?

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! I just want my sister back!", I cried out but my words fell on deaf ears.

The Gods, they didn't care, neither about this world nor about its people. It's ages, millenia since the gods have secluded themselves, forsaken this world. And if so, then they shouldn't have any qualms about THIS, right?

It was a short chant, a simple chant that needed hardly any magical proficiency to complete. It was a forbidden and forgotten spell, although it was less a spell and more a simple call for help. The outcome was random, sometimes fatal for the caster or the whole town or country they lived in, only old lore told about the disasters this magic could bring.

By using parts of my own life force I called out into the vast plane of creation, the hundreds of worlds that floated out there in void space. What a shame that most people live ignorant of this fact.

The connection was quickly established, for though I had never used summoning magic in comparison to different kinds it was swift and fast indeed.

Without hiding my emotions, without shunning the loss of face, I cried into the translucent mirror of blue that floated besides me. I cried and screamed for help, cursed the gods and pledged loyality to whatever force and whoever was going to assist me. I wanted my baby sister back, I wanted my dear little Elena back!

I waited whilst crying my eyes out, screaming until my voice gave in, but no answer came. I was in desperate need of help and so I banged onto the slab of cerulean with my bleeding fists, emptied all the energy I had left onto the azure mirror. It rippled with each hit, each punch fueled by anger and self-loathing but I was still awaiting an answer.

Seconds passed until I felt a presence beyond the unwavering blue. My heart exulted in joy, my eyes welled up in tears and I cried out once again for a final time. "Help me! Help my sister!". and a deep and sonorous voice answered back.

"OF COURSE...."

Squired by the might of the vast cosmos a man drapped in plain robes stepped out. With a cane in his left and a smile on his lips he approached me. 

Thereafter I lost consciousness.