GoldenCat/ObsidianAge5
- - Back to Sixth Movement
- - Back to A Dance of Angels
The End of Sorrow
The battle rages, the first one to show the Windians the Obsidian Age of the North.
Above the army, four leviathans, giant whales held together by the souls of six hundred sixty-six wailing dead, and seven seraphim, angelic beings made of the soul of a dozen of the most talented choir boys, always singing their suffering, fly, singing a choir of suffering that breaks all morale as it takes those who hear to the depths of sorrow. Above the army, the Windia sisters fly, acting the roles they always should have.
Above the battle, the Black Wing of Conclusion rushes to put an end to the sorrowful song. Somewhere, a Joybringer is ready to face a foe far greater than himself. On the ground, Ryshassa plays her lyre, trying to counter the sorrowful song. On the ground, the Pale Angel calls for the army, running to the front lines with a horse that moves in a way that defies all logic, jumping over trees, balancing on the head of zombies, while the healer keeps the sorrow away with her music...
And far above the clouds, Valencia la Silverstar stops Seika from summoning an army of dark birds from the shadows of the dead on the battlefield... The battle rages, as the front lines meet on the sky and on the ground, with the three of Windia's warstriders swooping so many zombies in each strike...
The General's wolf continues its march towards the Windians.
The battle rages.
Selina de Windia: It took her no time at all to move across the sky from where they had observed the battle to the strange singing whales. They calls out to her, the essence draws her, bittersweet and vulnerable like that of underworld spirits often is.
A sharp-nailed hand reaches out, nearly touches the back of the nearest whale, its arm suddenly arching with black charges of seeming electricity. She could have engaged the enemy sooner with her sorcery, but she wanted their first true awareness -- their first realization -- of her presence to be the cataclysmic blast she was unleashing.
Wordless howls of hunger erupt within her mind, too foul and ravenous to truely be vocalized through speech, and the air about the spirit-whale construct is suddenly filled with a searing, devouring void. Black lightning arcs over the construct, deeply roaring tides of violent essence consuming bone and soul of the thing before her. It lights the battlefield, and yet eats all light.
Cael: Cael's powerful wingstrokes bear him aloft, his impossibly keen eyes looking out over the whole of the field of the batttle as he starts to drive himself towards it.
He sees Gennadi's chains of Sapphire and Emerald.
He sees Ryshassa singing her song of protection.
He sees Vorpal's charge and her passenger, hears her shout
... and decides to join her.
He flies low, above the mass of the undead, but still low enough that not too many of the war machines should be able to see him ... the last experience had been unpleasant to say the least...
As he flies over the dead, he takes the time to compose wards and sigils of dominion over the dead, words of life and power that he casts down upon the leaders of the horde, seeking the nemessary captains of the dead, drinking their essence down as he extinguished it.
- The ball of void comes for the leviathan....
Consuming it. Devouring it. Hungry. The children cry, the leviathan cry... And both are unmade, eaten by the hungry void.
With an explosion to be seen miles away, the Leviathan breaks, only its bones falling, all the souls consumed....
Iselsis: She zips after Selina towards the whales. Their songs pull at her heart, but her resolve won't let her feel a damn thing for the abominations. The enemy. Give them no mercy, no quarter. Never let the dead tug at your heartstrings, she'd learned long ago as an Exorcist.
She hangs back, eyes wide open for any potential threat coming at the heavy artillery Angel. And then she sees her completely unmake one of the giant undead creatures in a single fell swoop.
Her resolve falters, though not for the battle, just her confidence that she can do what she was tasked to by Windia.
On the look for anything threatening -- or a sign from Vorpal or other allies in dire straights -- she swallows a lump in her throat. The raging storm covering the Dark Angel's assault was feeling unnerved.
Ryshassa: The battle is joined, and Ryshassa's song continues unabated. The battle is joined, and her husband is borne away by Windian wings towards a grisly, looming goal.
And soaring high above her, another pair of wings. Glorious wings of golden writing. Cael...
But she does not allow herself the distraction. She knows it is only a matter of time before more pressing distractions draw her attention from the calming, comforting, yet deeply stirring tapestry of notes she coaxes from her lyre:
Notes like snowflakes adrift in the breeze.
Notes like sunlight lancing through the rain.
Notes like morning dew on spring blossoms.
Notes like the sunset on autumn leaves.
Her song is the cycle of night and day. Ever present, ever resilient. The change of seasons, the constancy of such change. Life. Life itself is her song.
And life is the gift her song brings.
Vorpal: Ice runs like a creature of nightmares. The vast black beast seems completely weightless as it gallops literally atop the clashing armies, its sure feet finding purchase from atop spearpoints and upheld swords. Its hooves bang dully against metal helmets and half-rotten heads of walking corpses as it races for the Winlandian lines, carrying its two riders with certainity towards their destination.
Still standing tall atop her horse, Vorpal maintains her perfect balance through it all. It is an unreal sight, to see the white woman to not sway or lurch at all as the mount below her runs through its perilous route. The halo of cold white fear rolls like an avalanche ahead of her, her arrival heralded by crushing despair, her departure marked by trembling gasps. Her shining anima unfurls like a pair of gigantic wings at her back, rising above the battlefield and covering the skies from sight. The demonic bats of the General's own Essence shriek and writhe as the freezing numbus crashes against them, leathery wings trailing chilly flames as two potent sources of Abyssal fear clash.
From the corner of her eye she sees the bright glow of the approaching Solar. "Oi, Bastardian!" she exclaims, and something seems unhinge in her voice then, revealing an unnaturally sharp edge of excitement and rising bloodlust. "Nice to see you, too! Stay close, I might have orders for you soon!" Then she draws in a deep breath and turns her fierce gaze forward, at the Winlandian army, at the ranks of the living struggling to hold their own against the teeming masses of the dead.
"Hear me! Hear me! " she bellows, her bright voice rising like a clarion over the din of the battle. With one tremendous yank she pulls the giant sword from her back, crimson sigils flaring to life along its black length. In the middle of the enemy lines, heedless of the danger, Ice abruptly rears up and dances on two legs. The strength of its whinnying cry is a match to the words of its mistress.
"Tremble and obey! The Pale Angel is here! The Pale Angel is here! " Vorpal shouts, holding the great sword high. "Hear me, Winlandians, your day of victory has come! Follow me! Follow me, and we shall not be defeated! " She throws back her head and spreads her arms as she shouts, her voice rising to a keening banshee cry, the final words shrieked at the top of her lungs.
Eva: The great explosion of Void takes out one of the Whales, as Eva swoops closer to one of them, holding Alexsei's hand... the choir louder, and louder... "Damn them... is this... close enough?"
As the bones of the blown whale break, the one to its left is hit by some of them... and the sacks, the black wombs it carries... rupture. Commanded by some Necromancer, they come out, all towards Selina... so fast, so fast.corpses of children, dozens of them sewn with bone wings, claws and teeth, come out, flying towards them... flying towards Selina and Iselsis, all repeating only one thing.
"Mother."
"Mother."
"Mother."
"Mother."
"Mother."
They repeat, as claws and teeth try to rend them...
Exceedingly Sublime Opal: The clouds pass under the sun, and cause patterns of lightness and darkness to flow over the perfectly white jade of the warstrider.
She saw a dark wave crash over the whale, and saw it birth a horror. She saw the Dark Lady and become swarmed by the horror, and her heart skipped in fear. However, she recovered, for was she not encased in wonder, burning brightly white?
She crouched, the armor doing as well, and she opened her arms to the swarm as if offering a welcoming embrace. A hiss of Essence as a clasp releases, and the panels on her shoulders open, revealing a twin pair of Dart Launchers.
And, as a rain falling from earth into the sky, she sent a hail of small missle into the dark born, misstles of glinting light seeking to quell a risen darkness.
Iselsis: She sees the cherubs coming, and wills herself not to be afraid. They are nothing. And soon they will return, by her hand, to nothing. She would not fail!
Lightning claps overhead of the cherubs, Selina, Ise and Alexsei, and there is a thunderous roar as the storm charges straight into the heart of the beings. Thunder follows her wake, and the wipping, flesh tearing winds find themselves revigorated as she hurtles into the cherubs, knocking them aside off the shield provided by her shield bracers.
"I'll give you mother, you abominations! ", the storm containing a demon yells at them, the winds of her anima ripping and tearing the cherubs that come near her apart by sheer force.
Leave non alive, she thinks to herself, let the void sort 'em out.
Selina de Windia: She sees the little things, those horrors that used to be children, hears them calling her mother, and blanches. And that opens a door it shouldn't have.
children
the monster inside you
No.
No!
Not in me!
It all happens in a split second, the images and memories running through her head. They meld with nightmares, meld with these things, and it all blends together into something vile, something she feared all too much so long ago.
wants back inside
spawn another
alone
feel it inside you
pain
Terror
Selina snaps, striking out at the nearest of the things, a frenzy of teeth and claws and wings, animal fear heightening her savagry, dulling her precision. The blows are brutal, intended to tear the seraphim apart, kill it before it can touch her with those little pointed bits. She snarls viciously, the tint of fear able to be detected even in that furious sound.
Chibi-Vorpy: She's SOO gonna be mad at me later, for making her go against those icky things... T_T
Chibi Selina (Hyrokkin): *bites Vorpal's arm*
Chibi-Vorpy: "CUT IT OUT!" {bashes Chibi-Sel with a Grand Chibiklave}
Vorpal: The gigantic implosion in the sky comes at the perfect timing. The final words of Vorpal's speech are cut short by an even greater sound hammering down at them from the above, the abrupt flicker of absence-of-light drowning even the Pale Angel's shining bright anima for a split-second.
Alexsei Krauser: And both sides clash with all the gathered feelings that fuel them, a thunderstorm of rage that threatens to consume them all.
Wings not his own beat heavily as they carry him through the skies, above the battle crossed field. From the eerily placid skies, he sees first Cael's soaring, and then... Something else.
A vision of power and darkness.
A vision he had first encountered years ago.
A partyground drenched in blood.
Vicious poisons destroying lives as fast as the eyes could see.
Three against the demented lord of the mansion, three to stop his madness he had perpetrated.
Himself, his wife... And someone else.
Someone he now recognized.
Ausra Deveikas.
Wings as black as night saupport her as she channels energies that seem to draw from the essence of nothingness itself, as she pulls the forces of oblivion into one of the gigantic, whale-like undead behemoths. The explosion cuts through the great being like a hot knife through butter, the detonation filling the night air with a wave of unlight. He shields his eyes slightly then, focused on the form hovering moments away from him.
An angel of destruction, on wings of starless nights... It seems we meet again, lady Ausra - for reasons I cannot quite yet comprehend. But for now...
It seems we are once again allies.
The damned song fill their ears and their hearts, and Alexsei knows the moment has come as the singers are brought into view. His target. His mission. His sacred duty. Their song affects him, although he manages to grit his teeth by draing the very energies of the Gate... But he knows full well his carriers might not be able to suffer their notes of agony for long. And on this moment, he knows he will have to face them as it must be - alone.
"This will be close enough, lady Eva, yes." He utters, his voice soft yet powerful. "Hover so I can be close enough to jump on one of them... Then return to your own command, and help your troops. I will try to gather them around me, and bring their miserable existence to an end."
He looks over the closet one for him to reach, The Gate shimmering in his mind as he focuses the force necessary to carry him across the gap, and to fullfill his role. "One more thing, lady Eva." He momentarily brings violet eyes into hers, a mask of perfect determination playin on his usually gentle features. "Should this mark my fall as well as that of these beasts, I would appreciate if you could carry this message to my dear wife: 'Fear not - There is no end that is not also a beginning." He nods once, then, and purses his lips grimly.
"Be safe, lady Eva."
And as purple essence bleeds behind him like wings of his own, the Black Wing of Conclusion leaps for the horrendous creature, seeking to latch on to it and liberate it from unlife.
To liberate it from itself.
Iron Whisper: She comes, so fast, jumping above the zombies, walking over spells.
She is a sillhouette of shadows and black smoke. Something pulses violet in her, something that whispers after every pulse. Yet, even as a dark sillhouette comes closer to Ryshassa, she can see her smile.
Her smile as she dodges Dorian's blasts.
Her smile as she lands in front of the healer.
Her smile as she lets the winds surrounded them...
And makes it so Ryshassa cannot even hear her own breathing.
All is silent, and the melody is gone.
Ryshassa: Life drowned in silence...
The silhouette of the smiling lady casts its influence upon Ryshassa's song like the looming shadow of stormclouds shielding the sun. Except it is not sunlight she shields, but music -- and hope.
Ryshassa's fingers fall away from her lyre's shimmering strings. She utters nothing, not even a gasp; it would be futile in this sinister dearth of sound. And no mere words could convey what sorrow she will feel for those who may succumb to despair and death in the absence of her melody.
But their battle is far from lost. Even concentrated as she may have been, Ryshassa heard clearly the Pale Angel's triumphant call to arms, witnessed the black wave that sloughed through one of the whales like mere chaff. Reinforcements! The Pale Angel has returned, bringing with her allies that would lay waste to the General's army as surely as her touch brings relief to the wounded.
And that knowledge brings a glimmer of determination in her eyes, in her posture. A stubbornness to survive that belies her delicate form. She gazes at the shadow of a woman with glittering eyes, and stands firm.
Iron Whisper: Whisper circles. She circles close to Ryshassa.... still smiling. Smiling, as she lunges foward, towards Ryshassa...
It is a dance.
A dance in silence, and the silence seems to make things slow down.
Ryshassa sees Dorian's bolts miss her just because of a smile and kiss blow his way, and even lighting seems to slow. She sees the pieces of babies and bones of whales, still falling... the warstrider, still falling.... as the girl lunges towards her. The knife darts between her and the Lyre, pushing it off her hands. It touches her heart, drawing a single droplet.
And finally, Whisper rushes behind Ryshassa, and whisper a soundless word. Showing all she cannot help....
Ryshassa: Ryshassa stiffens as, with the silence, she is made to behold all the suffering which her song had so powerfully shielded. Shielded? Yes... from her comprehension as well as the others. Protecting them, protecting herself. From the truths she can never truly accept, deep inside, the necessity for suffering, for killing and for death.
Her eyes widen. Just a breadth. The facade of confidence barely cracks, an instant of vulnerability, as she gazes around herself with an expression akin to naivete.
But the girl comes hurtling for her. Not for the others. For her. To draw her blood. To make her suffer.
And something in those violet eyes flares with... what could almost be called eagerness. Yes. Hurt me. Not them. Ryshassa's lips move, mouthing the words without voice. Her eyes are luminous with anticipation for it. No one else would need to hurt if she drew the attention of those who would harm them --
But the Caduceus, her ever-stalwart guardian, comes first, wedging itself between the knife and her heart, knocking aside the worst of the blows before they meet with her Essence-hardened flesh.
Cael: Bastardian ...
Cael has time to muse, and then the sky is ripped apart above him, the first of the great leviathans in the sky falling to the Dark Angel's ravening beam of destruction, and the the lighting storm of the two windians filling the air with lightning and destruction.
And then after, silence.
For a brief moment on the battlefield, there is silence.
And that is not the natural state of things.
I cannot hear Ryshassa, and I heard her over the storm...
He banks sharply above the dead, a small verse of golden words peeling off his wings as he does, and he sees her there, the silloutte of shadows and black smoke.
That will not do. That will not do at all.
From his hands flow characters that he twists into words, writting an essay on the air.
Cutting words that are impossible to avoid.
Harsh words that slice through the silent, stilled air.
Golden words that slice through the darkness into light.
Iron Whisper: Whisper turns around.... and sees the golden words being prepared. Going to come...
The black sillhouette smiles.
The pulsing violet her on her chest unfurls to full bloom.
And that takes Cael's sight, distracting the Kanji away from her...
The Lyre falls far away, as whisper, as she paces around Ryshassa....
The golden Kanji hits her.
She expands her sillhouette, borrowing power from the earth, reinforcing herself....
She screams as not even that is enough. All the power she reinforces herself with, and the Kanji still cuts...
And in her silence, she screams.
Ryshassa: Ryshassa almost notices Cael's kanji hurtling towards Whisper too late. But in the instant after they are impossible to ignore, tearing through the girl's flesh with singleminded purpose despite the earth that rises to shield her skin.
For me...? To help me he hurt her... like that...?
She steps back. It is difficult -- very difficult for her not to help the girl as her mouth forms soundless screams of very painful, very real agony. Yes, even knowing that if the tables were turned, she would raise not even a finger to her aid. But Ryshassa understands why she is there. Why they are fighting. She is in a war and she has chosen a side...
All she can do is ensure she is not too much in the way.
Iron Whisper: Whisper is hurt.
Whisper is bleeding.
Whisper is whimpering.
The violet heart beats slowly. And then faster. The sorcerer hunter is afraid.
And then, she looks around... and finds out why.
Then, she turns, and kicks Ryshassa once.
And with the kick, the leg of a spider sprouts from her sillhouette.
It is repeated, two, three, four, five times.
And with every kick, a leg sprout out, until all of them touch Ryshassa's skin...
And with one push, push her far away, away from Ryshassa, into the army, her trajectory just low enough that she can reach down and take the Lyre in the way, in the way far away, vanishing into the zombies best as she can, even though the pillar of her light is still seen....
Ryshassa: Ryshassa's contemplation does not last long. The desperate spider-like blows surround her, and -- for an instant, she remains still, her arms spread open. Embracing what comes.
The first three kicks meet no resistance but her own unyielding flesh.
Pain... The healer's eyes flare with golden flecks, sunlight piercing through violet clouds. She shudders with the sensation, even if her Essence-soaked skin hardly breaks from the assault. It is not simply her own pain, but Whisper's as well. Whisper's agony and desperation, fed through to her empathic senses as the kicks connect. I will suffer with you.
Her eyes close.
Two miniature suns set.
And the pain feeds her soul.
For a moment it seems as if Ryshassa will simply succumb to the assault. But her eyes flicker back open, and the Caduceus jerks into action, covering her as she twists away from the path of the remaining kicks.
She's taking the lyre! Her mouth falls open incredulously as she makes to grab for the shimmering instrument at the last minute --
-- but it is too late. Whisper is already running away, with the lyre Alexsei had given to her. It was a gift, brought to her from Heaven. Brought to her when she had still been mute with despair, when only music would be her voice.
Her voice --
"Don't let her take it! " the healer cries out, gesturing at the fleeing girl, oblivious to whether her words are heard or not. Not because she cannot perform without it. But because it carries with it memories more precious than its cost.
Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She looks toward where the angelic songstress went down, under the treacherous knife of a mere whisper. She holds aloft her hand, balling a fist as eldritch energy... blue and angry, as she began to fray the edges of the local tapestry. It rose like a pyre, encompassing the massive fist, steady and unmoving.
Her other hand moved in a flurry, making gesture after gesture, fingers crossing, dipping, forming the path with which the loosed Essence would travel.
She kept Whisper in sight, though she became as a spider and leaped away from her prey. She trained a beed on the villian, and breathed out as her fist became a flat palm, fingers splade. Eight streamers of blue-white Essence leaped from her outstretched arm, and flew toward her target.
The air screamed.
Flies and insects, drawn by death and carrion, disappear, lending their Essence to the unleashed fury of the blast.
Iron Whisper: The Iron Whisper sees the blast coming... and gulps. Destroying all zombies in its path, and seeking...
her
She gulps, then, even hurt as she is, she jumps, aided by the winds... and dives behind one of the Hundred-Hand Snakes.
They would hate her for it, she thought to herself as the thing exploded without a sound, its pieces falling over her.
They would hate her for letting one of their best weapons go, but that would go before she did!
Exceedingly Sublime Opal: The blast cries for death. Fate dissolves with its passing, as rocks fall up briefly, moss turns the red of its lethal intent, and the air smells of purple. Local reality quickly reasserts itself, however, when the loosed energy connects with the Hundred-Hands Snake the Dragon-Blood used as a shield.
The lances of energy strike into and through it, piercing it from eight different places as the creature lolls its head back in a wail. A flash, bright as a sudden sun appears, and it is just... gone. No remains, no ghost, no decernable trace of it being or having ever been there. Only those faint remenents of the magical materials it carried fall to the ground.
Smoking.
The General: Atop of his wolf, Whiro, the General pressed on... towards the Windian front lines.
Spells break close from them, as they rush.. and one of the Windian Warstriders, advanced, tries to bar their way.
It is a flash of dark light, but the warstrider is down, one of its arms on the Behemoth's ice-blood fangs...
Alexsei Krauser: Footsteps make no sound as they land swiftly on the back of one of the tremendous monstrosities.
Kneeling briefly to maintain balance as he lands on the monster, Alexsei does not hesitate - alert eyes observe and scan the situation, the possibilities, the probabilities, and his own ressources. And it takes only a breath for him to formulate his plan.
Standing atop the great Whale, bathed in the violet light of things that must come to their end, Alexsei looks above the battleground, away from the monster he is riding, and towards another, close by...
Almost just close enough.
He comes towards the edge of the great monster, and, standing proudly atop it, watches the second whale with intense, piercing eyes.
"I am your enemy, abomination. I am the one who came to end this damned unlife of yours."
As he pronounces the words, he starts a dance almost reminescent of a kata, flowing black hair mixing in with the purple of his anima as he excutes the graceful, yet shapr, movements. "Come to me, You who is caught in undeath! I am a threat to your existence! I will drag you away from this world, and into the embrace of Saturn, unless you fight me!" The ritual dance continues to gain into intensity as he spins epilogue around his body, flames of purple accenting his movements, immolationg his form as he seeks to gain the attention of his target.
"I am your Departure! Come meet your fate, you who holds a grudge against the living!"
- The Leviathan hears the dance, the ritual of the Chosen of Endings...
And slowly, oh so slowly, arches towards the Gardener... giving him those precious few yards of proximity.
Vorpal: Come meet your fate...?
The voice drifting down from above makes Vorpal look up. Her eyes wild, she sees what that Sidereal is doing with the whales. She stares at the display for a second, incomprehending, but then a mad grin splits her terrible face.
It is an instinct at work here - the uncanny sense of a General who holds all the strings of the battle together like a puppetmaster. There can be no other explanation for the sheer speed by which the Pale Angel makes the connection from the current sitation to the discussion she faintly remembers from somewhere, about this same Sidereal speaking of a Charm with the power to destroy all undead within close distance to him. The next decision she makes is instantaneous.
I'll help you.
"Hold on!" she snaps to Fiona and shifts her stance slightly, bending her body forward, her eyes never leaving the sky.
That is all the warning Ice needs. The beast rears again and, its hind legs flexing and hooves striking black fire, launches itself directly upwards. They rocket up into the sky like a bolt from some wicked siege engine of First Age, their speed so great that the horse, the Abyssal and the Solar all blur together for a moment in one vague shape, an object of darkness hurtling past raitons and winged skeletons alike.
"Oi!" Vorpal bellows as Ice finally reaches the zenith of its leap - hooves landing all too gracefully atop the whale and next to the Sideral. Without breaking a stride, the horse continues its interrupted gallop down the vast creature's back. "Hear and obey! " she shouts, her anima flaring with new brightness, her will spreading out to the seven remaining Seraphim, forcing itself through to their mindless souls. "Approach! Come to me! Come to me now! "
- The Seraphim, the singing choirs, follow Vorpal's words with blinded eyes, gathering in a cross around Alexsei....
Chibi-Vorpy: No-no-no! Cancel the order! Cancel the order! >_> Get the hell out of the way of this guy now, now, now! I wanna order you around of the rest of the day!
Iselsis: She notices Vorpal moving, and pulling many towards one of her allies. For a moment she doesn't comprehend. The man is an exorcist, obviously, trying to deal with the whales. Thouh she doesn't know him. Why try and get him killed in such a reckless stunt?
Unless... he had some powerful spell or charm. One that killed many at once. It had to be the only logical choice for a General of all people to make such a seemingly ill advised move.
She bumps up her hat and pulls away her scarf as another cherub is ripped apart by lightning and wind around her. Her features turning quickly palid, gaunt, foreboding, and inviting to those of the dead. Her presence means release, release from this horrible torment that the underworld kept them in.
She hovers there, her arms spread slightly outwards, palms up, inviting... Come to me, it speaks in the minds and 'hearts' of the dead, come to me and be undone, I am divine will incarnate, I am your executioner, I am... release!
And as they turn their attention towards her, their unfeeling soul-less eyes, she moves like flash lightning. And is at Alexsei's side, peering uncomfortably as the dead come to face her.
"Iselsis, exorcist, and I sure hope I was correct in my professional appraisal that whatever's coming will be undone.", she swallows hard, this could just as soon kill her as it could deliver a giant blow to the dead.
- With one of the cherubims on her fangs, Selina sees her howling void-wings break all those around her...
And the Cherubims are gone, pieces of them falling, but she can still hear their words on the wind...
As Iselsis gets there, she broadcasts her presence.
The weak fly away - the small Raitons and flying ghosts. They stay clear.
But the big ones...
Ten flying Nemessaries, five Giant Raitons, a thing that might just be their flying answer to a warstrider, all convene around the Leviathan, circling like vultures around Iselsis, Vorpal and Alexsei....
Chibi-Vorpy: Hey, pretty, we've got _more_ work for you... ^_^ {pours more and more of undead at Alexsei's feet}
Iselsis: As the man besides her, identified as one of her colleagues, works his own magic so does she. Her personally developed artillery against the numerous undead. Her secret weapon, put to practice for the first time.
She clasps her hands together, and closes her eyes in prayer, and from her the unnatural darkness is slowly driven away, creating a speck of light in a blackened sky. Her words are almost soundless, but her lips more tirelessly reciting prayer upon prayer, driving off the darkness, purifying...
Then as the light pushes to it's furthest limits, she shouts, and the shout propels almost a hundred holy prayer strips along the perimeter of the ward.
"Thousand Prayer Ward! "
She grins, like a predator who has cornered its prey. The gleam in her eye combined with all else about her tells them that they're caught, and their doom is but moments away.
"They're all yours.", she offers to the man beside her as she cocks the hammers on her repeater pistols and waits.
Alexsei Krauser: The dance does not stop. Not even when the creature comes for him.
'Come. Come for me, yes. It is me you want.'
He focuses on his performance. On dragging the whale towards him. destroying as much as he can in one powerful cut of the overdue threads.
And then, at the corner of his eyes, he notices it.
First the Pale Angel, vision of glory atop her mount, racing towards him while her commanding voice calls on to more undead to follow her. A grim smile crosses his lips then, as he comes to the realization Vorpal understood what he was trying to accomplish.
'A great leader indeed - your ability to read a battle has not been dulled, Pale Angel.'
And out of nowhere comes another one, a woman of dark clothing and red skin, landing right besides him - another ally. He nods slowly to her, his voiceless thanks for the moment for the courageous action she just pulled off.
"Thank you, Exorcist Iselsis." He smiles at her, eyes flashing briefly. "We will talk more later... But for now... Let us bring them down and put a definitive closure to this strand."
He focuses on his own prayer, trusting the one called Iselsis to do her part as he gathers the Force of conclusion about him. He observes as the rain of scriptures fall from the sky, showering the monsters with their divine aura.
They're all mine, now. Let us end this.
The Staff spins and sings.
His feet glide swiftly across the ground.
His eyes flare.
The time is now.
"My name is Alexsei Krauser. I am your End... And your Salvation."
Once again, the Gate opens.
And for a moment, everything around the Chosen of Endings is showered in Violet Tears, sundering the very fabric of Fate. Their flesh is rend by the sorrow of the Maidens, torn apart by sorrows never expressed and tears never shed. All around can almost hear the cries of the departed, beckoning those who linger to follow them...
And then, Silence.
The Silence of the Grave.
- And then.... time stops.
It is not like the explosion of Selina's ball of death, with the hungry Void, and the pieces falling everywhere...
For a moment, time stops.
And then, the souls... begin to fade away. The souls that are the Leviathan's flesh, the Seraphim's self.
The bones of the whales, the corpses of raitons and Nemssaries...
They simply... fall.
Vorpal: "Honestly, demoness!" Vorpal calls out, laughing, as the whale begins to crumble beneath them, "This is why I hate making plans with other Exalts - no matter what we agree about beforehand, everyone will always do whatever they damn well please in the end! Good work!"
She shouts something else, too - something about taking care of the Sidereal, but the footing has already crumbled from beneath her horse and they begin their deadly plummet down. Ice's legs pump in the thin air for a moment, a defiant whinny escaping from its mouth. Then one of its hooves catch a spinning bit of whale bone. Off the mount springs, bouncing from one corpse to another, running along the falling rain on carcasses and safely towards the ground.
Iselsis: As she catches the sidereal by slipping an arm under one of his and grabbing him she tips the fading abyssal another salute, more primly this time.
And the grin on her face could light up the sun itself.
- - Back to Fifth Movement
- - Back to A Dance of Angels
