Chapter 10

The Seraph & Twilight-Bringers

Shouck ee to unm thlouptet, the inscription laid in the back of the tower shield she carried, in her opposite hand rested a large flanged spear. She was new to the battle field, and this alone made her heart feel like a war drum being beaten in time to the march of armor that echoed at her sides. She was on the front lines. The first into battle and more often than not, one of the few who never makes it out. The woman read the inscription again. It was meant to be a type of rallying war motto. "Take pride in the War you fight in." War…, some angels like the Light-Bringers will tell you, It is an angels duty to cleanse the land of darkness, to make it pure. Others like the Divine-Judges will say that, Angels act as a swift and often explosive end to any and all problems, more akin to a peacekeeper than a being of divine properties. The Fire-Seekers would tell you that, Angels are just bred for war… It's what drives their entire people. After all, it is what won them their last war, Their insatiable thirst to show pride in their sins…

Her name was Haliel Ma'aul, she held the glorious rank of Angel. However, in mere moments she didn't know if it would matter. She and her company of angels had been sent on a campaign to clear the Giestwoods of any and all threats to the holy city of Cathedral Dawn. As a member sworn into the Arael military, and a firm believer of the doctrines taught by The Five of the Tenshi. Haliel held fast to her shield, for her battle would be long, and fierce. Hwoomtheen so tat si unm eep hweatflel, The battle was not a long one. Their opponents were no match to their might. Haliel came out of the fight once again, but she no longer wished to be treated as fodder for beings who literally existed as an antithesis to her and her people. She walked from that battle, her mind set on achieving something very few ever actually do. Her white wings bearing a new set of stains, something she would grow to fear and cherish. Battle after battle, War after war. Funerals and warriors memorials, No matter what the cause of her next crusade, Haliel always had purpose when she brought her blade to the battlefield. She only heard whispers of her nickname at first, but it wasn't until she defended a fledgling angel, a boy not a day past being out of the Arael training, too meeting a grizzly end at the hand of a Daevan battle axe. That boy spoke a phrase that Haliel would embrace and carry with her until the day she would die. With her current path, that could be tomorrow, or it could be never. She walked away from that fight, without that boy. Her new path set in stone.

A man stood at the entrance to a black marble building, The being was deep underground. He turned and faced the stone columns which supported the massive structure that sat beneath the dirt and rocks of the surface... a hidden sanctuary. A place he and his people, the Daeva, could hide. His hand touched the wall as he stood at what was the precipice of the structure, below him, a massive subterranean river. It was home, for lack of a better word. The colossal black marble walls interlaced with gold and purple flecks and folds acted as a barrier for his troops. Known as Maz'ikal, He led the Twilight-Bringers. A sect of the Daeva military, their purpose?... to strike hard and fast from behind an enemy line at specific locations, Usually supply lines, or civilian structures. Something to distract the enemy enough that they lose focus and allow the rest of the Daeva force to over power them. One on One, A Daeva and an Arael are Equal in Power and Fighting Prowess the only way to beat one another is through intelligence and strategy.

The Ethereal glow off of his body was a curse bestowed upon his people by the Arael. They had elaborate bioluminescent patches on their skin which did not allow for them to be stealthy. However, The Daeva left a mark as well, for the Arael had glowing eyes that would force them to be "blind'' to an attack to be sheathed completely. Espionage was a bloody game played with people and he played it well. The "cleric" that patched his unit up, a total of 5 members, had just finished healing the most severely injured. With his group assembled they made for the fringe village next to Solstice, a small place called Equinox. His target there was a massive crop field, under that, hid a huge network of mines that supplied the Arael with Luxirite, a precious metal The Arael people use to make their weapons. For his peoples sake, he could not fail. Daeva master three elements in their life. Earth, to shape the battle field and provide cover for their allies. Ice, which cripples those with wings and allows them to make swift work of an Arael Soldier caught out, trying to be a "hero". the last element they learn is the power of Darkness. They drink deep from its seductive powers and give in staining their deep reds or even black, depending on their attachment to the element. For Maz'ikal he held command over his natural powers, so great that if allowed, he turned a battle field into a slaughter house. He could shift mountains, freeze lakes and swallow even the brightest of lights all for the sake of his peoples survival. While the Arael fought for "peace among all peoples" The Daeva fought for "freedom and continued Survival." however, it was a losing battle

War gives strange friends from stranger places. Maz had done as directed, with some form of relative success. He had frozen the crops and caused a collapse within the mines killing hundreds in an earth shaking event, this type of assault did not come without risks, for Maz was a team player before he was self-preserving. Having used all of his mana Maz took a Luxirite spear to the ribs, giving him a grave injury. His team of 5… were now a team of 3. Two of his allies carried him to the Edge of the Giest woods to a small cabin hiding in an inlet of Cinderwoods, they laid him within the walls of the small wooden building and went to retrieve the cleric they had used from before... The cleric would never make it. Maz laid on a cotton mattress bleeding heavily through his armor, knowing it was the worst thing he could do, Maz shifted from his demonic armor set into his normal existing form. the wound did not agree with his choice as the shift forced a wretch from his chest causing him to spew blood onto the floor. he went to stand to get some water, or for anything to try and stop the bleeding but his attempt at motion was met with him dropping to his knees, the only thing keeping him from wailing in pain was his staunch military training. Being cut by Luxirite is akin to being set on fire, then put out. the initial heat and shock of the flames consistently burned at not only himself but his soul as he himself was a being of darkness. Depending on who you asked, that was not necessarily a bad thing. Maz braced himself against the floor with his knees and a single arm propping up as his free hand held pressure against the wound. At this rate, he was thinking he'd be lucky to last till his allies got back.

My enemy no longer exists when survival is on the line. Intuition is a fickle thing. For some it is the ability to sense an incoming attack, for others it is the ability to spot a well told and executed lie, For Haliel, her intuition told her one thing. the front line was lightly stacked. Her legions where leading a charge and pushing back the Daeva but it seemed that the Daeva themselves where not fighting back but instead moving as a defensive wall backwards away from something.... the only thing behind the Arael line was Equinox. She could not be ready for what she saw. Within moments massive shards of ice erupted from the ground, staining themselves red with the blood of innocent and unsuspecting villagers who rested in their homes or worked in the streets. the sight alone caused her to bolt up into the air. She landed in a flurry of flames and lightning spotting a few Daeva in the middle of town, four to be exact, with her spear in hand she dropped her shield and removed her helmet. She wanted to see the life leave their eyes as penance. As with Arael rules of engagement She was not allowed to attack all of them, the same rule did not apply to them. The group rushed her and it was apparent by the first move she made, she was fighting people under her own league. A reflexive back step lead into a floury of her spear which in turn ended with her cloaking the Arael weapon in lightning before launching it at the same speed of its elemental coating. It caught a young Daeva male, he looked no older than 20 years of age but in reality he was well into his 800's if not older. The force of the strike painted his allies with the internal workings of his skull as lightning blew it apart.

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Haliel was so focused on her actions she forgot one of the most important rules of fighting, Be aware of your surroundings. The remaining trio had grouped around her and her spear was out of her reach. She could normally summon it back to her but her sustained time on the battle field, which was close to six days at this point, had taken its toll on her. She was left to her only option, hand to hand. By the time she had moved, she had only made the injury she received worse. One of the Daeva had taken an Axe and planted it into her wing, cleaving a deep gash into it and actually put the blade through the muscular appendage. Her blood stained feathers turned deep crimson as she winced and gritted her teeth in pain. the trio backed off not quite sure what to do next as they had little to no experience fighting an actual Arael. Hailiel bent her bleeding wing and pulled the Axe out of it. She then stood and with enough hatred and malice to kill someone with a single look She split the offending Daeva vertically from the crown of his head to the bottom of his waist. Her strike planted the Axe so far in the ground that it was rendered un-useable. She forgot another rule of the battlefield in her hatred. Daeva fight dirty. While she struck down one of his comrades, a Daeva holding a great sword thrust it forward piercing Hailiel's armor. She felt the cold sting of Ebridite piercing her skin as she fell to her knees then onto the ground. she was conscious but her body was in shock. She had no mana, two major injuries, and her natural healing was not working. Her path would surely end here….

Maz, finished his work and came to the surface through a buildings secret entrance of the mine, he entered the street to see his men standing over an Arael who appeared dead. He didn't care to ask which would be his biggest mistake and his best accident. As they left the city to return to their hideaway to await new orders Maz felt a strange sensation behind him as he shoved both of his comrades out of the way. what he had felt was the wind behind him moving as the Arael spear of the fallen warrior literally entered and exiting the left side of his torso narrowly missing his heart. his comrades picked him up and began running while trying to dress the wounds. Said Arael warrior had fallen back to the ground. She needed more time to see if her natural healing would kick in. Outside the cabin Maz's allies had just laid him in the men stood in the clearing, panicking. The recent events had left them confused about their location and what direction help was in. One wrong move and they could end up directly behind the Arael Line. They would never get the chance to see what was the safe direction as from the woods, the "fallen" Arael warrior stood braced against a tree with her spear in the ground. Her wing was stained by heavy crimson patches and her normal ivory colored armor was now scarlet and dripping with the sticky liquid, leaking from her side. She lifted her hand and aimed at one of the men. the one holding the great sword. A shard of light appeared in her palm as it sailed to the mans forehead. He had no time to react as his very soul was lit on fire by the sudden addition of light to his system. his eyes scorched from their sockets as his mouth and ears glowed violently before he slumped to the ground, burnt to a crisp, dark grey smoke coming from his eye sockets and mouth like a hollowed body.

She then turned her attention to the final man outside who stood stunned. She used her spear as a walking stick and lumbered over to him as he dropped to his knees praying for mercy. She walked over and laid her hand on his forehead telling him in the common language that "Mercy came for those who deserve it…" As she lumbered past a faint trail of blood following her, the soldier felt his head grow hot. On his face rested a red, blistering hand print as the mans body heated up intensely she had charged him with fire magic and his body had rejected the new addition. His skin blistered, and his blood actually boiled before the man burst into flames so violent he was rendered into ashes the heat of the flames and the flames themselves caught the other body and did the same to it. She lumbered to the doorway feeling her life slowly slipping from her as she slammed into the door with all her strength. the door burst open forcing her onto her stomach. She could not get up. the pain was to great and her drive to make sure no Daeva got away was spent. until she looked around the room. she was met face to face with the Daeva who she had put her spear through and lived. Normally... she would be furious and kill him on the spot but her body refused. she laid there and slowly closed her eyes feeling like a failure and an Arael who did not deserve her title.

Maz didn't see nor hear the fight, he was to focused on keeping his balance and not laying face first into blood vomit. It wasnt until the door burst open that he moved, falling back onto his rear and putting his back to a wall. He felt two things in that instant the light shown through the entrance to this cabin. Fear and shock. Before him stood the most battered in soot and blood arael woman he had ever seen. but even in her injured state she took out four, soon to be five Daeva. four of which were hardly worth her time, but Maz, he would have made a good fight for such a warrior. She slowly sat on the wall and collapsed and Maz looked to her, She fidgeted with her spear speaking in her Celestial tongue as he watched her slowly drift off. Something came over him. Against all forms of better judgement Maz forced himself up and grabbed the Arael by the back of her breastplate dragging her into the cabin, he then looked around and saw some basic alchemical supplies. he put together a very crude and poor healing paste which he placed on her wing and used her sash to cover and bind to her back keeping it from moving. he then stripped her down to her under armor clothes seeing the wound inflicted by his ally. He for some reason cursed his comrade and treated it as well, applying some of the paste but he did not wrap it yet. he looked to the amount of paste he had. there as enough to treat his wound, or enough to double dose her side injury which was much more severe than he was aware. Maz made a decision in that moment that would change his life many times over. He applied the last of the paste to her side and bandaged the Arael up before he lifted her and placed her on a bed, opposite side of the room from his. As he laid her down he saw the pained expression on her face lighten a bit. from that one tiny change in her expression Maz felt something, not caused by the burning of the Luxirite, but something different. He settled into the bed on his side of the room and felt his wound sting fiercely. He prayed he would make it till tomorrow....

The hearth, which once held a small fire was now cold. the weight of the charred lumber that rested within its stone walls caused a sharp noise. One that woke Maz with a jolt causing two things to happen, the first was his abrupt movement which reopened the wound on his left side. The second thing that happened was the sharp breath and curse he let fly from his lips in his native tongue. Infernal. A beautiful language if spoken properly, something not done by the degenerates of his people but you can only ask for so much. Maz felt the sharp pain of whatever type of scab that formed be torn from its hold and rendered practically useless, Though in pain, he wasn't dead, and that is all he asked for. Maz hauled himself up off of the thin cotton bed and thanked himself for having slept where the bandages caught almost all his blood as the thin mattress he laid upon had but a few drops of blood on it. As he stood up he was now aware that he had a larger issue to deal with. A possible dead Arael woman across the room, not that he himself had done anything, but the fact that he was alive and she might not be chilled him. If her unit came looking for her and found out that he was alive and she was not, Maz would not have a chance to leave as the Arael would burn him alive in this cabin. He placed a lot of faith in his next wish seeing as how The Void already granted him one. He hoped that the Arael was, and would, stay asleep while he explored the cabin to see what was stowed inside it.

The Daeva took light steps, which was, for anyone to see his appearance, almost impossible due to his large frame and lean figure. Maz sported many scars and reminders of his mistakes and accidents while in the field. he remembered the events that lead to each one. He left the center room of the house and headed to what would be left of the main door if you were entering the building. In this direction he found a kitchen or pantry of sorts. there was a stove, and some cabinets. farther back in the room there was a smaller room that held what looked like smoked and cured meats, and upon inspection they seemed to be fresh, or at the least still eatable. Maz then crosses over to the opposite side of the building and finds a rather lavish bathroom for such a cabin. Beautiful stone floors and a large basin tub. Maz was relieved to see the basin tub and could not wait to use it. He then returned to the main room and sat on the free bed, he then began to redress his wound, hoping he didn't open it up to bad. Maz then stared at the the woman across the room, treading over carefully, he eyed her wounds.she was in terrible shape and her bright crimson blood did not help see where the wounds ended or started. He layed her to the side hoping that this would help her breathing and bound her hands and legs it would be uncomfortable for her if she wakes but dealing with any veteran arael soldier and the scene outside she is not a "just out of training" grunt. Her armor tells him as well that she been in many fights prior to this one. She was an elite, A leader possibly? He pondered for a moment as he dresses the wounds he can see. His men fought well against her as he sees the indication of a ebridite sword stabbed her in the side opening of her armor. Biting his tongue knowing he has no choice he mended that wound as well. He leaned back and stood going back to his side of the cabin and slid down back on the wall and watched her onced more not knowing when she'll wake or if she'll survive her wounds but he has to be ready.