World of Sylfe: The New Age - IC

Thorn’s only reply to Malkuthe was a long and tired breathe of air. The ancient Ceree didn’t need to waste anymore time and energy talking. He looked at the large bubble of the time Paradox, easily visible after he breathed his fog over it. Thorn took a few steps back, energy beginning to charge around him.

His cloak began to rise, as if caught in a sudden wind, but it didn’t down anything to uncover his face. Thorn reared up on his hind legs, and then brought his paws back to the earth with a mighty boom. Red light burst from his paws and struck the paradox, for the first few seconds the light seemed to simply wash over the bubble… but then it gave a small ‘crack’. Like glass, the surface of the paradox began to crack. A huge crack spread from the ground and traveled up the surface of the paradox, at its highest it was only a foot taller than Maetesk’s head. The crack began to widen, but only slightly.

Thorn didn’t have the power to fully open the crack enough to get Maetesk through, that was where faith was needed, then Malkuthe and Saffye would have to sustain it.

Fran bit her lip, deeply and desperately wishing for the best, her body tense like a bowstring, imponent like a ceree statue. She knew the situation was on the best hands, and the plan seemed perfect. In theory. She was just worried about how the body of Nocru and Are'Zel would react to the sudden time change... and specially their mind. The probabilty was that both ceree would just derange or go insane.

At the same time, deeply buried inside her hardened heart, she had the little hope, maybe selfish for her natural caring and kind personality, of having her friend and brother again. Maybe their fight would be, if not easier, at least more bearable... if they were together once more.

---

Are'Zel nodded, scared, to Nocru, feeling the approach huge powers, coming from nowhere and terribly close.

Then came the boom, exploding all around the two disturbingly quick, making adrenaline run through his system like electricity, his alerons high and sharp, his eyes wide and his mouth open, halfway between a snarl and simple astonishment.

But the crack was the most scary part.

It just seemed to rip part of reality. Or what he thought was reality. And coming from it's narrow passage was... what?

---

---

Merun Al'Caar turned to face the new arrival, appraising the newest addition to his conquests. It was the best thing that ever happened to him, finding the lattice. The chaos he had created had lured this creature and many others of his kind to Sylfe and he had immediately taken control of them through it.

The radiant seraph before him was decked in armor of silver and gold and by its side hung a sword of flames. Its wings glowed with the intensity of the sun. Before him was one of the fabled angels of the fourth sphere, before him was the highest of the Seraphic Legions. "Tell them that there are demons on the horizon." said Merun, still worried about the power that was being displayed in the distance. He knew he could not overcome it.

All of a sudden, he felt the power grow exponentially. And he was knocked to his knees by its intensity. Little did he know that nearly every magically attuned creature on Sylfe was experiencing the same thing. The angel was not for it was used to living so close to such powers.

"Bring the entire legion and destroy whoever is interfering!" he hissed. Whoever it was probably could not fight an entire legion of angels.

Thorn's power alone overshadowed that of Malkuthe and Saffye. A power he had gained over Eons of serving the Fayyet and watching the worlds. His power was great, yet it was but a weak flame before Faith's inferno... Through the main downside of his power, that releasing it and sustaining such an incredible flow of energy began to eat away at his mortal form. His already aged body trembled with effort as he continued to put his energy into the bubble... He could only wish that Nocru, Are'Zel, and Maetesk would make a quick exit...

Tia'Mara was thrown to the ground, unable to move due to the god-like forces that unleashed their power before her. Tia'Mara had seen powerful beings before... But not like this. Never before had she seen such pure, raw power. It flew over her in waves that she knew travelled across the entirety of Slyfe... And that was only what was being contained. She could sense that far more power was contained within...

Yet something bothered her. A strange pulsing sensation in the back of her mind that distracted her. She could sense a large group of beings coming their way. How she could sense it, or what they were... She did not know.

Issend growled, being forced to the ground and trying to stand again. No power would be allowed to keep him down...
He looked at the convergence of power on the Paradox, his eyes burning with Envy. Why? Why couldn't he possess that kind of power. With that raw power he could finally have his vengeance on the corrupt beings who stole his power and cursed him into this form...

Another wave forced the fallen angel down to the ground... His he lay there, his eyes closed as he tried to force himself back up... He felt them. His eyes shot open in surprise, but narrowed with Rage
"Angels..." he growled

Fran was lying in the grass, in a position common for her people: the one adopted by the ceree to meditate. Only her head was raised, fighting the power flowing around, with eyes slightly narrowed. She used to be like this when waiting for storms to calm down, looking out for her kind. Just waiting.

But something else appeared in her mind and heart. A familiar feeling, something that could be good... in the past. And now would just be another seed of chaos. But she couldn't figure out what new piece would come for this puzzle.

---

Arer'Zel looked to the creatue before him, and back to Nocru, scared as he never was before. Quietly, he tried to touch the sudden barrier of energy that surrounded the two ceree with an aleron, only to retract it by reflex. It gave him a terrible feeling, not only in the appendage's tip, but something running through his entire body. Something different from pain itself; it was like... decay.

He was too afraid to think properly and calmly. He wanted his sister back, and wanted, for some unknown reason, help Nocru. Maybe the seed of Zeal inside him.

That's what probably motivated him to his next stupid and unadvised move. That, and the overwhelming urge to punch something or someone.

He got enough energy to access momentarily his angelic power. He launched himself to Nocru, quickly assuming another form: the one that should be his elf self, but too quick and distorted to be recognized, and got him on his arms like the other ceree was nothing but a puppy. He then jumped to Maetesk.

Are'Zel hurled the poor Nocru above Maetesk, in the direction of the crack, where the energy barrier was open enough for him to escape. A little bubble protection would soon surround the ceree's body, the only magic he could think to protect his friend from the flames. He couldn't remember, but that shield was a common protection used by guardian angels. He landed clinging the statuesque head. "RUN!" He howled.

The people of the cities rose and cheered when they saw the Legions streak across the skies. They were radiant and their strong wings whipped up a wind that buffeted all that watched below. On their sides hung their swords of blazing light. Their robes were resplendent even as the wind whipped them about.

To the crowd, they were just flying off to vanquish some evil and it made them happy that their Lord Merun was sending his servants to protect them.

---

Issend's rage built as he felt that angelic legion draw ever closer. Angels, legendary beings of the upper planes, devoted to keeping the peace, to the virtues, to serving those above them... But Issend, a being so consumed by sin itself, could feel that they had changed. Their alliegence draw to the heretic who called himself a god. His power apparently enough to convince Angels to bend at his command... This fact and their very presence made his wrath consume him like never before.

The wrath caused adrenaline to pump through him, empowering the demonic Ceres to slowly lift himself and finally stand, despite the crushing waves of energy running through his being. He stood, looking to the direction of the oncoming legion. Not only that, he began to change.

Issend's body shrank and began to lift up, changing from a quadruped stance to a bipedal stance. As his body was now supported on two legs, his fur began to retreat back into his skin, revealing the skin beneath to be pale, blood stained, and riddled with scars. His body became humanoid, his tail retreated into his spine, and his muzzle shortening into a human face. Long locks of black hair fell about his face, eyes still black as knight burning with rage behind them. His body was still monstrous in comparison to any human or elf, the same horns curling back from his skull, his mouth lacking lips and bearing hideous fangs and a long drooling tongue, his body thicker and more muscled than normal, his hands and feet still adorned with short claws.

For a moment as the transformations stopped, he stood there, nude. At last he opened his jaws, black smog rolling out from between his fangs and gathering around him. The smog solidified into armor that was once silver, but was now tarnished and gray. The suit of armor was mostly complete, save for the fact it lacked any form of protection for his chest, back and shoulders beyond one shoulder guard strapped to his right shoulder.
Issend opened his hand, the smog gathering between his fingers, now covered by metal talons. It formed into a metal face guard, which he quickly attached over his mouth.

He stood strong and tall, the smog clearing away. Tia'mara watched in awe, noting the bloody and tattered stumps growing from his back. A few black feathers remained her, marking that these where the torn off wings of a fallen angel. She gulped, half amazed and half fearful. Seeing this made her wonder what Issend must have been like before he fell. Issend was obviously powerful, but even she doubted he would be the strength to hold back what was coming long enough to give Maetesk enough time to bring Nocru and Are'Zel out of the paradox

Issend's black eyes watched the legion of Angels rapidly approaching. A hoard of angels who hold false virtue or one fallen angel possessed by sin...
"They may try their best to make me fall" Issend growled, red energy sparking from his hands and forming into a long spear. It was time for the battle to begin.

((I finally drew Issend's human form > http://th04.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2012/300/5/b/fallen_angel_by_thoron67-d5j3xav.png ))
(Next to draw him as the angel he used to be)

Are'Zel heard Nocru, but took him many seconds to collect his thoughts. He looked down, to where his finger were grasping the stony head like demon claws; his blood was already dripping as the scratchy surface cut all his fingertips. When his breath came back to an almost normal rhythm, he jumped back to the ground.

His elf form was disgusting even to himself, completely distorted as his ceree self has become. More than merely gaunt, one could easily count all the bones of his body, under the pale and peaked skin. His hair, with the consistency of cobweb, waved around his face with the least wind. He assumed the ceree form again, the fur covering slightly his scars and the apparent fragility of his body.

"What are... you?" He asked Maetesk, while glancing at Nocru, waiting for either one to answer. He was unsure about just grabbing the other ceree and run through the strange passed open just behind him.

---

Fran watched surprised as Nocru assumed a new form, anxiety growing stronger inside her. A note of compassion passed in her heart, but she would never let it escape to her epression; she knew this would only bring problems, considering Nocru's pride. But was his hate what caught her attention, and with his words she understood completely what enemy was approaching, and why the feeling was familiar to her.

They would fight against angels. Against the people she used to call family before she was born again in this world. A family she was destined to lose, too.

Her nature made her first decision: the Kindness would try to avoid this fight, against all probabilities. A lost cause, even worse than everything she intended until that moment. Nailing her talons in the ground, she stood tall, the strong wind shaking her mane-like hair.

But the seed of another thing, something deeper, stronger and unpredictable was launched inside Fran. Like a tiny crack in the walls of impregnable fortress.