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Loy’tia the lady of lies, and the leader of the guild of assasins heard the command carried so softly from the king’s lips, and she smiled. A smile she had worn many a time before. “Finally” She said, and raising her hand above her head, she vanished. Illusion is the ability to see what is not there or the ability to cloud what is from those who would know it. Loy’tia was a mistress and a master of these powers, and though the illusion over an entire army took a strain on her that she would suffer from over the days to come, the sheer joy of what was to happen now was all she needed. The angels stopped in the air, as events began to unfold, something was happening, something strange overpowering. Kia was crumbling. The entire citadel began to shimmer and shake, the walls falling apart and the armies fading into smoke. The angels stared in wonder, and amazement. Azreal watched with that same cloud of arrogance covering his eyes. See see what harm I have wrought upon these mortals. They will come to know the might of my army, and my power. Fools they thought that the destruction of the Chariot would be the end of my power, that it would save their blasphemous nation. But what chance do they have against my power? Arrogance hides, and it conceals, and the Archangel in his pride and vanity, ignored the screams of his angelic hoard as Loy’tia undid her illusion. “What is this?” The angelic maiden Amalifia the angel of joy screamed, as the sword of the Lady Loy’tia pierced her tainted heart. She fell from the sky like a stone, and as she fell the sky began to grow dark and the sound of wing beats began to permeate the air. But these wings didn’t caress the air like the feathers wings of the angels, these wingbeats dominated them, they smashed through the air great leathery wings struck down the air with overbearing power. The other angels watched in amazement as the sky began to fill with the screaming cries of a thousand or more airborn riders, lead by the Lady Loy’tia the sky now took an army of great black scaled creatures. “Drakes!” One of the lesser angels screamed in horror. “I thought they were dead” Ashden grinned, at his perfect army. The drakes, huge black beasts of dragon descent, with ice white eyes and more teeth than nature should have allowed. They were the bane to the angels, terrible creatures almost impossible to domesticate without the most dark of magics. But now, now the very heavens themselves were littered with their black beating wings, one drake for every angel, and on their backs rode the warriors of Kia, those who the angels had already slain now stared back from those black winged monstrosities with grins of sheer triumph. Clouded in illusion, the angel’s arrogance had been their downfall. Amongst their number sat Loy’tia eyes glaring a shimmering hue of purple, as he chanted her magics of illusion. The spell had taken her over these last few days, and now that it was complete she found it hard to stop the chanting, and even when she drove her sword through the heart of an angel, she could feel the magic burning through her veins. Such magic she would pay for severely over the days to come, and she could already feel her muscles acheing from the pain. But it didn’t matter, the sheer look on the faces of the angels was all she needed, and it casued the delight of the triumph to flow through her veins and it gave her the will to keep going, to keep battling, to drive her swords into the heart of each and everyone of these vile creatures who dared to pose as perfection. Even through all of this, Azreal watched through his own eyes, his own arrogance hiding the defeat through his malice and self obsession. Pathetic beasts of corruption, their base desires to destroy and to reproduce. How could they ever think themselves worthy of so much as confronting my power? We are supreme, and our magnificence drives the world to turn. These Kians are not worthy even of their pathetic excuse for a goddess, we have seen her, and we have been in her presence and we were not afraid. Now we shall show the gods themselves that we are the strongest, and even without the chariot we shall watch as the last of these people fall before me. We shall have our justice “Justice?” Came a voice, a voice that crackled with power, a voice that echoed with malevolence. “You shall witness justice…angel!” There was a noise, a strange sound of beating wings, but they were neither leather nor feather, angel nor beast. They were something else. “Look at your army oh beast of arrogance, and behold the justice” Azreal couldn’t help it, he was compelled to turn though he fought against it, it was as though some great hand had control of her head and thrust it to face the ruins of the illusionary Joyran. He stared eyes wide in horror at the destruction of his people, at the massacre of the holy, and for the first time in millennia, he was afraid. What? How can this be…we are mighty, we are strong we are…. “The forgotten dregs of a once noble legend” Came that voice again, it seemed to move as though a whirlwind of sound which ran past the archangel’s ears. “Tainted by arrogance, your legend now become myth….we no longer need you” But we are the guardians..the keepers we protect your world from.. “From what? There are no creatures in the heavens that would harm us you arrogant creature. The only thing in centuries that we have needed protection from has been you, and your people” We guard the gate… “Of that there is no doubt” As those words flowed, the figure of Ashden rose from the air, materialising out of cloud and sky like an apparition of death. His eyes were black, radiating sheer power and contempt, and from his back came the most unholy of abominations, the ultimate of sins, for bound and grafted to his back were the golden wings of an angel and they beat against the waves of magic with a cruel contempt. AND NOW IT IS TIME FOR THE GATE TO BE OPENED Azreal turned, and stared in horror at the origin of the second voice. A creature so foul and full of hatred, that it was a marvel he hadn’t noticed it before. For before Azreal was the most hated of essences, and as Azreal stared in horror, the King of Darukaar plunged his hand into the very heart of the archangel. And all across Kia the alliance of men and demons let out a cry to the heavens. And the world trembled. Post a comment in response: |
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