Pit had only been on Arda for as much as a half an hour. He was still experiencing so many things for the first time. He could see his hands, he could feel a light breeze that came in through the door, and he could even feel emotions. The ones which were currently going through his head: puzzlement, distraught, uncertainty, pride, and responsibility. There were so many questions that he had to ask, that were going to have to remain unanswered for now. All he was told; all he knew, was that he was to eliminate the Darkness, and all evil-doers. That is what his mission was, and he knew he had to do it. Suddenly, his wings twitched.

The young Archangel looked to his back. His wings! He had seen them before, but where he had come from, he had never put much thought into them. Now, they seemed to almost move on there own. Trying though, he could fan them out and stretch them. he wondered if he could fly, though it was mostly unlikely. He had just been incarnated after all. So many things were new to him. Now he could feel emotion, now he had other functioning senses. Touch one of them, he experimented by touching his own wing. It was soft, and silky as it looked. Subconsciously, his through made a 'hm' sound. He stopped suddenly, completely frozen. He did it again, and then realized that he could talk! He wanted to say something, though he didn't know what. Anything in angelic, but only the smallest and most insignificant word came to mind.

"Hello," he said. He discovered that his voice was rather soft and high pitched. That of a young teenager. Which, if he were a mortal, he probably would be.

The angel boy took this time now, to examine exactly where he was. Of course he knew exactly where he was, but he didn't know what this place looked like. It was beautiful. The designs of the place. One could feel pure good washing over them just standing in it. It was a place of sacred ground. Of pure Light. It seemed to give a message. Good shall triumph over evil. A strange, tingling sensation went up the back of spine, causing his wings to flutter slightly. He smiled his first smile, in total awe of where he stood.

Pit looked up. There other things that he had to discover about himself, but he stood in a state of reference at the front of the alter. He closed his eyes and allowed a strong state of holiness to wash over him and he felt himself being blessed. he was now to walk amongst the mortals and protect them. Be their guardian. Vanquish evil. The state of bliss and reverence he was in was unmatched.

Such a pathetic waste of space. To built a monument of someone else's beliefs? Unheard of. Ridiculous even. It was an eyesore. Seeing such a foundation of holiness and righteousness made Silva's blood boil. So here he stood, in front of the Grand Cathedral, his cloak billowing against his being, with his sword drawn and gleaming under the rays of the sun. It's sharp edges were carved into grand spikes and were slightly sullied with the taint of animal blood. Silva had just come from a squabble with a couple of Dire Wolves.

"Retched building, feel my scorn, and forever burn under the wake of my reign! This is the first of many that will fall to the wrath of Silva Necross!" Silva bellowed into the air, announcing a triumph that had yet to come. However, it was a ritual that he always brought before he destroyed something. It had become pure habit now, for ever plunder before this had been a success, so why should this one be any different? Sure, Silva was no longer his calm, stealthy self, but when your opponent was the inanimate creation of man? Who needed shadows and trickery to defeat such a worthless adversary.

Silva raised his right arm into the air, brandishing his blade in the morning sun, before striking down with fierce speed and accuracy, letting a flash of silver explode where his cut had made contact. For a duration of three seconds Silva kept his position of a successful strike, before the sound of wood could be heard cleaving apart, followed by the falling of the entrance doors, split into two pieces each, for a total of four broken slabs of wasted tree upon the Cathedral floor. Rising and stepping upon the dismantled wood, Silva stopped as he looked ahead.

There, staring at his hands, and then his wings, was a angel. But not just any angel, a Celestial. Silva could tell by the glow of his aura, and the length and size of his wings. Worry seemed to wash over Silva as he looked upon the image of goodness of purity in human form. That is, until Silva noticed a small detail. The angel was just a child. He seemed confused and bewildered by his surroundings, like a newborn infant after taking their first few breaths of life. A sneer slowly crept across Silva's lips. There was no rivalship in such a small boy. He would be dealt with in ease.

Stepping forward, Silva raised his sword, letting the tip point at the lad threateningly.

"Give me thou name, foul creature of holiness. Now!"

A tough and hard clacking outside made the Celestial's eyes shoot open. Wide wth curiosity, the sapphire blue orbs flickered as his body turned around. They rested upon the door. Someone, or something; was out there. What it was doing out there became yet another question of his many questions, though it was the most important one at hand. Could it be another Angel? No. To Pit's knowledge, he was the only Celestial being of any kind that was around. The young ArchAngel Elite had no idea what was coming over him, but for some reason, he had to take a step backwards. The noise intimidated him. This was fear.

Then the doors came down. Both of them. There was a figure. He couldn't see it yet, as it was piercingly bright outside and all that was cast was a shadowy silhouette. The silhouette hich seemed to eat up light. It stepped into the cathedral, and the second that the other being's foot touched the ground, Pit knew that something was wrong. The essence of pure goodness seemed to vanish. As if it were completely obliterated. The good was being swallowed up and eaten by this thing. Pit knew that evil had entered the cathedral. At first, Pit had been scared. Now, however, the fear was being replaced by anger and a stern form a justice.

The Evil One asked a question to Pit, and the winged boy left it unanswered. The boy's head slowly looked to the ground a foot or so to the left of him. There lay a golden shortbow, and a quiver full of arrows next to it. Slowly, Pit picked it off the ground. The ArchAngel put the quiver upon his back, and held the bow fast in his left hand. Then, blue eyes looked up once more, as he pierced The Evil One with a gaze hard that sat stern atop his adolescent face.

"Thine name, should you so wish learn it, is Pit. Thou shalls't refer to me as Kid Icarus," he said sternly. The next was loader and a demand. "Vile creature, leave this place of hallowed ground."

Now it was Silva's turn to give a glare to the young angel named Pit. Already, the boy was making demands of Silva. Demands that would go as nothing more than unheard words. Silva dropped his sword to his side, before gripping it firmly and rushing towards the angel as soon as he picked up his bow and arrows. Silva would end this quickly, before things got out of hand. After all, he may be young, but he was still a Celestial, and Silva would not make the mistake of allowing him to live.

Jumping up, Silva allowed his foot to land upon one of the benches made for sitting, before jumping up even higher into the air. Once this was accomplished, Silva grabbed onto the wall that boarded off the second level of the Cathedral, where prayer was held. Prayer to gods that didn't exist to mend problems caused by the person who was praying in the first place. Every quality of this place made Silva want to destroy it even more, and as soon as this annoyance was out of his way, he'd do just that.

He suspected that the little holy boy wouldn't be able to keep up with his movements, unless he was truly an skilled warrior. Silva was trained to move as speeds greater than agility was known for in normal humans, and Silva used every ounce of it to confuse and elude his quarry. Now, with the angel's back in his sights, Silva pushed off of the wall and grasped one of the hooked candles of a massive chandelier, before dropping down with a swift, one-handed overhead strike towards Pit's head.

"I think I'll just call you Kid. Or better yet, I'll call you dead, because if you haven't been paying attention, that's what you are right about now!"

The Evil One disappeared right before his eyes. Disappeared? No. Jumped. Pit was able to look up in time to see the villain drop the giant chandelier. He's fast! Pit's thoughts echoed through his mind as he was forced to spring off from his feet and dive right. He landed on his hands, but in sudden fluid motion, he was able to roll and avoid taking too much damage from impact of the ground. Kid Icarus was swift, and was now on one knee behind the alter, and in a corner. Pit seized the opportunity and took an arrow from his quiver. Once they had touched the the ArchAngel's hands, they began to glow white with light, as two rings formed on the shaft of the arrow.

As quickly as he had drawn, Pit fired the arrow. It shot from the bow in a streak of brightness, leaving a solid blue trail of light behind it. The arrow was fast and soared through the air at it's target. Though the arrow was a blue-white with light and looked impressive, it was the same as any other arrow. It was only Pit's Celestial being that turned his arrows into arrows of light. Should the arrow hit it's target, it would revert back to it's true form. A normal arrow.

It is true, that Pit is a young Angel. However, his time in the Heavens were spent training relentlessly. It was his mission from when he was born to slay demons and forces of Evil. Early on he trained to become a swift warrior, excelling in bow master and agility, as well as some close range combat. Currently, that was his weakness. At close range, Pit preferred to wield dual blades and quickly vanquish his foes with a flurry of quick strikes from them once his arrow supply had run out. At the moment, however, he was in dire and utter lack of a close range weapon.

He had to keep his distance.

He dodged it, huh? So, he was a better warrior then he let off. Seems Silva had made the mistake of striking too soon, or striking too late. Whichever it was, Silva still let a calculative error ruin his chance to end the fight before it began, and now his foe had a chance to strike back. Rolling away, Pit picked himself up, and as he did, he was already aiming an arrow right at Silva's forehead. Great. He was already seizing his newest opportunity and was hoping to finish Silva off.

It was odd, watching Pit's arrow suddenly glow with the radiance that two holy ring gave off as they spun around the arrow. Instantly, they turned into a blazing white aura as Pit fired it off. It sped towards Silva with godly precision and was allowing a faint blue trail to follow in it's wake. It looked like a holy arrow, and such a weapon would do massive damage to such a creature as Silva. Snarling, Silva realized that he couldn't let that arrow hit him, no matter what the cost to himself was.

Using his innate ability of quick reflexes, Silva strafed to the right, watching the arrow slip by, tearing at his cloak and ripping it a bit, but nevertheless missing him by a hair and flying off harmlessly behind him. Silva chuckled and stood up, before lifting his sword as his side and dropping into a pose, before rushing forth once more. Suddenly, he strafed to his left, diving into the cover of the large benches and allowing them to give him cover as he sought refuge in the shadows they gave off.

"Now, now, my dear Pit, what was all that? You seem to have such killer intent within you for such a little angel boy. Maybe I can help you channel that." Silva called out, letting the echo of the Cathedral hide his presence. Now that he was in the safety of the shadows cast by the pillars on the right side of the benches, Silva could think the situation out. He could no longer attack the boy straight out for fear of leaving himself open to another arrow. He didn't know how many more he could dodge as easily as the last.

Stealth and trickery would play best in this situation, and so Silva would use his persuasive words to try and mess with Pit's mind.

"Yes, with my help, you could become a great warrior. You just need to learn to relax and accept people, no matter where they stand on the scale of light and dark."

The Angelic Archer watched as The Evil One dodged the arrow. He made it look very easy, and if Pit had any speculations before, they were now concluded. His opponent had skill and cunning, and was without a doubt one of the masterful fighters. The ArchAngel wondered just how powerful he was. It was quite possible that he could be overwhelmed. Pit had to keep himself perfectly aware of everything, which he was generally good at doing.

Pit watched as in an instant, his opponent seemed become one with the darkness. Shadows blended with him, and was no longer seen by the archer's sharp eyes. The angel boy furled his brow and looked around the large cathedral. Pit brought down his bow, but he was still prepared to follow off any arrows in a moment's notice if he should have to. The Evil One could be hiding anywhere. Pit thought he saw a quick blur of movement, but looking to the place there was nothing. It was only Pit's mind. Great time for these new weird mortal-like things taking toll.

The Evil One spoke, his voice radiating from everywhere and nowhere at once, sending a certain chill down the ArchAngel's spine.

"I only kill those who stand for that of evil ways. I kill creatures like you!"

Pit shouted slightly, his awkward emotions coming over him again. He calmed down. He quickly he searched corner from corner, dark place from dark place, looking for the voice. Nothing. Nowehere. It was if he was no completely surrounded by darkness, and eventually he was going to be swallowed up. Pit knew that he had to focus. He knew that he had to concentrate, and that his mission had not yet even started. He could not, and would not go down now.

Pit took a breath before speaking once more. His child-like voice sturdy.

"Your words gave no effect upon me, demon. What if your name?"

Ah, will power. It was such a wondrous thing. Like large, titanium walls that protected the willingness of your mind to succumb to things that you instinctively found pleasurable or beneficial to you. Seems young Pit had a strong will power. But Silva would fret not. He had broken the greatest of spirits with nothing more than his skillful tongue, and he would not let some brat undo his persuasive magic. However, Pit had clearly asked him a question, and it would be rude to not answer. Using the echo to veil his presence once more, Silva spoke.

"I have told you, Pit, I am no demon. I could help you if you'd only let me. My name is Silva Necross. I may come from the opposite shift of the scale than you, but our goals could be one. You wish to vanquish evil by becoming as strong as you can be, right? I also wish to become as powerful as my body and mind are able to make me. If we help each other, I'm sure we could forget our differences and reach our goals that much faster. Think about it, young Pit, for this opportunity doesn't come often, I can assure you." Silva answered, a devilish sneer upon his lips the entire time.

If he could persuade Pit to join him, then his power would grow phenomenally. He'd be a titan of darkness, and no one would stand in his way. Soon, he'd gain enough power to crush Pit and whoever else would stand against him, and when all was said and done, Silva would rule over Arda with Raku at his side. Hell, he'd even overpower Raku if his plan went accordingly. All he needed was Pit's trust and his rise to glory would be secured. Slowly coming around to Pit's back, Silva brandished his sword in the darkness, but held steady. He wouldn't attack just yet.

"Answer me, Pit. Tell me what you say to my proposal. I'm sorry to say this, but if you continue to delay me a report, I'll take it as a nay, and slay you as an enemy."

For a few moments, Pit imagined himself joining Silva. He saw himself fighting alongside him, and saw them both rising up. Pit was even fulfilling his mission, and vanquishing evil foes. For e moment, it didn't seem like a bad idea. No! His mind almost screamed at him. No, he would not ever join the side of darkness. Never would he join sides with such a a being. It would never work. Silva stood for everything that Pit was trying to destroy. This one was a good talker, with a very persuasive and twisted tongue, but Pit was not about to break. He would never do something like so. He was too pure.

He could hear him everywhere, but Pit could see him nowhere. It frusterated Pit. He wanted to draw an arrow and fire, but that chances it would hit would be slim. The engel boy looked left. Nothing. He looked right in desperation. Nothing again. Where was he? Why couldn't Pit sense him? Was he so close and giving off so much evil that he was being clouded? Or was it that he was performing some cloud spell on the ArchAngel boy. He didn't know. He was confused and simply wanted to slay the man. He knew though that should he be hasty, he would make a mistake. Then he spoke again. Pit answered, standing as tall as his small frame would let him.

"I'll never join you," he said. Then, he had a sudden idea.

Almost directly after he spoke, Pit cast Detect Evil. In order to cast the spell, he brought his bow and held it in the air. A sudden blinding light busted from him, and the spell was cast. That was all it took, and it was fast. Once the spell was cast, Pit's sapphire eyes shot open. He was right behind him! The spell worked perfectly, and it was almost as if there was a radar within the Angel's head. As fast as he could, Pit turned around and brought up his bow, guarding him. It was quite possible that it was all ready too late. It could be over all ready. Pit relied only on his uncanny agility and speed, as well as guarding himself from any blow to protect himself. Whether he was wounded or not, he would fight until the end.

Such a strong will within this boy. He even had the willpower to stand up against Silva's speech and deny the offer. Ah well, Silva was planning on killing him sooner or later. Why not sooner? He held his sword at the ready, it's black blade catch a bit of multicolored light from the large Cathedral's window art. And just as Silva was about to strike, it happened.

Pit had thrust his bow into the air and his entire body illuminated the area, causing Silva to shield his eyes for a moment. A spell! Silva had to act fast, slay him before whatever he was casting would come into effect. He rushed through the light and came down with both hands gripping his blade, watching the sword swing down swiftly and violently, aiming for the neck.

SHINK!

"What!?" Silva exclaimed in confusion and anger as the light faded and he saw that his sword had made contact...with Pit's bow. The angel was glaring at him with fiery passion, his eyes burning into Silva's own. They seemed to glow with a certain light, as if they could detect the darkness that gripped Silva's soul. Damn, of course! Pit had the latent spell coursing through his blood known as Detect Evil.

"Clever, boy, very clever. But tricks and light displays won't defeat me! I'll end this here...and now!" Silva shouted, before moving his sword in a fluid motion. To anyone not prepared for such a maneuver, Silva turned into a blur of black and blond, sliding his sword off Pit's bow and rushing forward with it's blade aimed to cut into Pit's exposed stomach.

Seemingly reappearing from nowhere, Silva stepped down to catch himself as he stopped a few feet behind Pit, his sword outstretched and his eyes narrowed as the focused ahead of him. In a manner of seconds, Silva would find out if his cut had been true, by the sound of Pit's flesh ripping and blood spewing. Sure, he didn't have enough time to aim for a vital point, but it would certainly hurt if his slash connected in anyway.

Pit was saved by his instinct and his bow. The sword had connected with Pit's bow, stopping the deadly blade from beheading the Angel boy. Pit glared into the eyes of his attacker, clearly determined. The sudden but temporary shock and exclamation that was received once the sword was stopped showed that Pit had more up his sleeve than he led on, and that his opponent was surprised. The sword, Silva's sword was polished and well taken care of. No doubt it had spilled the blood of hundreds. In only and instant, it left Pit's bow and he found the weight and pressure of Silva pushing leave the archer's bow.

Silva was smooth. In a single sweep, he was able to remove and then go in for another quick stab. He was obviously very good, and very lethal with his blade. Pit was fast, but with such an unexpected move and little time to react, he didn't know if he was going to make it out of there.He quickly stepped back and right, trying to move himself away from harm's way. Not fast enough. Time seemed to slow down in Pit's eyes as he saw the tip of the sword easily cut though his snow-white gown like butter. And then Pain! It was something he was experiencing for the first time. Pain. It was the most terrible thing he had ever felt. It was unimaginable. He could feel wetness form as blood began to stain his clothes. Pit was able to avoid a fatal blow, but beginning from the center of his stomach all the way to the left side was a moderately deep and extremely painful gash.

The ArchAngel instantly clutched the spot with his free hand, feeling warm wet blood and beginning to feel sick. He clenched his teeth hard to keep from yelping. It was terrible, but he had to focus. He had to concentrate on the task at had. Looking up to see that Silva was nowhere to be seen. However with the spell which was cast earlier there was really no need to see him anyway. Pit went for another arrow in blazing speed and had it in his bow which was up and pointing at Necross a moment later. Pain! It was difficult to even hold the bow! Pit released the arrow just as the wave of pain hat pelted him, and there was not doubt that it would stray from it's desire course. He only hoped that it wasn't by much.

Silva smirked as he heard Pit's gasp of surprise, followed by the splatter of blood on the Cathedral floor. He looked back to see him leaning against a pillar, grasping his deep wound and shaking slightly. It must've been his first encounter of pain. Too bad, because this entire day would be filled with that same pain. Silva turned around completely as he stood up straight. Pit's blood slid down the surface of his sword, before coming to the tip and dropping off in a splash beneath it.

Flicking the blade and sending droplets of crimson fluid all over the Cathedral walls, Silva took a step forward, cherishing this moment of Pit's crippling pain. It seemed the little boy couldn't stand such a cut, and who could blame him? He looked to be only twelve or thirteen. Deciding it'd be for the best to end this pathetic fight quickly and move on to destroy the Cathedral, Silva lifted his sword and made to swing down upon Pit's shoulder, where the neck connected with the collar bone.

And then...pain.

Blinding, searing pain as Silva groaned and staggered back, making sure to keep his grip tight around his sword. Sweat began to produce itself upon his forehead and his eyes shook as his mind was stabbed repeatedly with the realization that he had been shot. He looked down to see one of Pit's arrows lodged right below his navel, lodged between two of his ribs. Man, did that hurt.

Yelling, Silva grabbed the arrow and wrenched it from his flesh, sending a small amount of his blood splashing against the floor as he did so. He gripped the arrow until it snapped beneath his power, then glared at Pit. He had turned around and aimed an arrow at his neck, it seemed, but a jolt of pain had caused his aim to falter. Good thing, too, or Silva would be dead.

He was panting, still leaned up against the wall and sweat much worst than Silva himself was. Silva still had the advantage. Seeing that the time for words was over, he made a vertical slash with his right arm towards Pit's chest with impressive speed, seeing as only his left side was slowed down from the assault.

Pit hit. He was breathing hard and in a bad shape, but his arrow had hit. The Angel boy knew that he had only a few moments before Silva would recover, and then he would attack again. The Archangel boy would have to defend himself again soon; but at least he could take a few moments now and try and recover. Sweat had all ready formed upon Pit's brow, and he was beginning to drip with it, his forehead feeling cold and clammy.

Arrgh! It hurt. It hurt so much that Pit's head was searing and he was screaming out in his head. Yet at the same time, he knew that this was not a terrible wound. More could be delivered to him that would be worse. Pit knew he would heal and walk away with the one that he had now. But if Silva's deadly sword pierced him again with something fatal; he wouldn't walk anywhere again. The thought of him dying wasn't all to terrible to him. What was, was the idea of failing his mission. His mission was the purpose of his presence there right now. It was the reason of his living.

A yell from Silva caused Pit to and back into reality. The dreadful man was only a blur of black, blonde, and silver. The silver being the sword which he was skillfully cutting the air with. Pit saw it coming with wide bewildered eyes, and fear shot though him. So fast, his thoughts were.

There was not enough time to fully dodge. The man was too fast, and Pit was in a state of disarray even with his Great Agility. He was pinned against a pillar and hurt! There was simply nothing he could do to completely avoid taking damage. But he had to try. The Angel boy pressed against the pillar. He slid right as fast as he could, his wings being clamped slightly against the pillar. Then,

"Arrrrrrghhhh!"

The cry echoed throughout the cathedral was filled with agonizing pain. Tears even began to well up in his eyes as pain so much stronger than before washed over him. Mind-numbing pain. He wanted to cry, and be a child. He wanted to cry and wanted everything to go away and he could be in the heavens once more. But he was a Light Warrior now.

The sword has pierced shoulder. Just near the collar bone where the was a gap of nothing real but skin tissue and muscle, Silva's sword had pinned him directly to the pillar. Blood began to well up and started to pool from the spot-- not to mention the bit that splattered when the sword struck. Pit's left wing had been hit as well, though luckily in the struggle it was just feather and no pain. The Angelic boy whimpered twice and clenched his teeth hard.

What was he going to do now?

Success. With a loud burst of agony, he felt his sword slice into Pit's flesh once more. This was almost too easy. And to think he had found a worthy opponent. He should've known better. There was hardly any being on this earth or heaven that could contend with him, even with his weakened state. He winced at the searing pain in his left side and left his sword in place, as he let go of the handle and gripped Pit's bloody neck.

"You see, boy? You see what happens? You should've stayed in your sanctuary, for now I'll be sending you back in bloodied pieces." Silva said, smirking. It was over. Pit was pinned to the pillar as long as Silva's sword stayed in place and he was at his mercy. Silva let out a booming laugh of confidence, before releasing his hold on Pit and hold his right hand to his wound.

"Dark....Regeneration!" He muttered with his eyes closed. Instantly, his hands glew a deep red as souls burst into the Cathedral, wailing their sorrowful mourning song before being sucked into Silva's wound. Instantly, the flesh was replaced with new, stronger tissue and muscle, and the only evidence that it was ever there was the lingering pain and the slight brightness of the skin compared to the rest of Silva.

Sighing, Silva opened his eyes and grasped his sword once more, before wrenching it out of Pit and jumping back abit, dropping into an attacking stance.

"Come, I'll give you one more chance to prove yourself to me. If you can even stand, do so and fight. If not, I'll slay you where you sta-I mean, sit."

He could barely breathe. He could barely move his left arm without feeling such terrible pain. Pit looked down as the man left him pinned against the wall and began to laugh. A laugh that echoed off of every wall in the sacred place he was violating and perverting. A laugh that Pit would remember. Pit tried to move his shoulder but was welcomed only by hot searing pain. The Angel hung his head as the man began to regenerate. How could this be happening? Was Pit just not strong enough? He had to be stronger. He couldn't go down like this. Silva's words burned his ears, and they hurt more than his shoulder did.

Suddenly, Pit felt the sword being grasped from his wound. It was taken out quickly and efficiently. He did his best to keep from crying out, and his scream was choked in his throat. Instantly he began clutching his shoulder, trying to stop the pain with fruitless effort. Then; Silva spoke again.

He was challenging the Angel boy again.

Slowly, Pit's head raised. With serious and determined angry eyes, Pit looked at the man. The pain he was going through was great, but he wasn't going to back down and die without a fight. With left side basically useless, Pit bent down and reached for his bow which had fallen from the ArchAngel's hands one he had been stabbed. He gripped it, and with great effort brought it up, pointing it directly at Silva. With one arm useless, he could not fire off arrows. He would have to use it as a melee weapon. It would suffice. It was blessed by Higher Celestials and was strong. He only hoped it would be strong enough.

"I can stand," Pit gasped out between hard breaths. It was out of pure determination, dedication, and duty that he was continuing on. "And I swear.... I shall defeat you."

Silva smirked and nodded. Seemed the boy had much determination within him, if nothing else. And by the looks of it, it was the only thing keeping him alive. That, and Silva's craving for a good fight. If he had met him only a year early, this fight would've ended as soon as Silva saw him. Back then, he asked no questions. Back then, he offered no names or proposals. No, back then, he slew without words and without remorse.

They use to call him Silva the Swift. In truth, the meaning behind that name was still true, Silva was as fast as ever. However, they called him that not because of his physical speed, but how he ended fights. Some couldn't even call them fights, they called them...bad arguments. Why? Because it was always one sided. Silva unsheathed his blade and then two seconds later would be putting it right back in it's scabbard.

He always aimed for the vital points in fights and slashed to kill. Now, however, a year of no opponents had caused him to thirst for blood and pain, and he taunted his opponents with words and perverted agreements. It seemed that the once proud, silent warrior had been reduced to nothing more than a cocky man with a sword. Returning to reality, he lifted his sword and rushed forth as soon as Pit let his last word out.

Raising a bow to a sword, without even an arrow? He was making fun of Silva. This wasn't even worth it anymore. Before he even stopped, Silva made an upward slash towards the bow, to snap it in half, but if it was sturdy enough, it would simply knock it from Pit's hands. If it connected, that was. Almost at the same time, Silva twisted on his right foot, coming around with his left to slam it into Pit's face once the bow had been dealt with.

Pit's words were cut short. In a tremendous sword slash, Silva's blade went right up connecting with Pit's powerful and sacred bow. the bow was strong an sturdy, with enough strength to cope with the draw-back power that it had. The boy tried to hold onto it hard, but he found it being knocked ed from his hands. It flew up into the air, spinning and landing elsewhere behind the Angel boy. Pit was only just processing what was going on. He had been taken by the unexpected strike this time, but he wouldn't again.

As Necross moved and extended his left foot, Pit moved to his own left. Using speedy agility and pure determination Pit was able to Move down low and crouch from the kick. He could feel the strike graze against his wings as he did. Then, Pit drew an arrow, it filling with light the second it had touched his fingertips; and jabbed it at Silva's exposed backside with his good hand. Pit knew that he had really lost this fight. Should he want to live and fight another day, he would have to escape somehow, sooner or later. Still it was a disgrace that Silva set foot into such a place, and Pit wanted to give him something to be remembered by. He would fight even more.

In amazing speed, Pit was darting back to pick up his bow which was laying carelessly on the floor. A second later it was retrieved. He knew that by now, Silva would be recovered from the arrow stabbing if it had even hit him, and that Pit's next strike would most likely be parried. But the ArchAngel was determined to fight back. Leaping high up into the air, Pit's wings spread as he came down with his bow aimed for Silva's skull. Again, Pit believed that it would be blocked with a sword, but then Perhaps Pit would have an opening.

With amazing speed, Silva had proceeded to remove Pit's bow from his hand, leaving him without a weapon to fight. This thought in mind, Silva spun around to deliver a hard kick into Pit's face with his heavy boot. He twisted upon his free foot, spinning his body and bringing his left foot around before slamming it...into the stone pillar. Eyes widening, Silva realized that his attack had missed it's intended target. It was then that Silva also noticed that his extremely risky move had left his back wide open.

"AAARRGH!"

Silva felt an arrow drive deep into his flesh near his hip. Pit had used his arrow like a dagger and stabbed it into him once his attack missed. Clever bastard. Silva dropped to his knee, his left foot dropping as he reached back and felt around until his fingers grasped the shaft of the projectile and ripped it from his flesh, sending small amount of blood splashing upon the floor behind them.

"You only prolong the inevitable!" Silva yelled as he turned to see Pit making towards his bow. Still spunky, even after two major slices to his body. Silva assumed that Pit wouldn't know the true definition of pain until he was carved into strands of bloodied flesh. Standing up, Silva gritted his teeth together to hold back the pain, before raising his blade. Just in time.

He blocked the bow shot, which was aimed at his head. That could've ended very unpleasantly for Silva if it hadn't been for his uncanny reflexes. Seeing Pit was open whilst in mid-air, Silva pushed upward with his sword, before cocking it back and sending a blur of black and metal towards Pit's legs, to render them useless. Pit had been pushed too high up to have them sliced off, but they'd be cut deep if it connected.

As expected. The bow swing did not connect. However, expecting this, Pit was able to react quickly, and all ready had something planned. The Archangel saw the Silva's blade rushing towards his feet. If the blade connected, it was quite possible that Pit would no longer be able to walk. However, Pit was no longer thinking or shocked to be in this fight. He was a warrior, and though badly wounded, he was going to fight for all he had in order to get out of this alive. Twisting his body in the air, Pit went into a quick spiral, extending and flailing his wings. White feathers flew about as the smallish wings annoying flapped at Silva's face. It was only something to distract him, at attempt to lose his balance on the attack. Pit then moved his legs as best as he could, only getting a subtle scratch from the blade on his right upper leg.

Pit wasted no time. Once he was on the ground, he took his bow and ran for the door which was still laying knocked down upon the floor. The Angel boy needed to escape, as he was badly wounded and Silva was obviously better than him. As he ran, all the injuries that he had received burn, but adrenaline pumped through his system and he was able to block it from his mind. The Angel boy wondered if Silva was giving chase but turning around to see could be a grave mistake. He was just half way to the door. If Pit could get beyond them, he could take to the skies. He knew that even if he could use his wings, he would not be able to sustain flight for very long with the condition he was in. Still, he could fly high enough towards the sun so that he would be beyond sight. From there, he could slip away.

Pit's heart was thumping loudly in his ears. In his head. Sweat puring down his body mixed with blood. This was his last chance. Should the man suddenly appear in front of him, Pit would collide directly into him, attacking with whatever he could. Fist, teeth, bow. Anything that he could. Pit was fast, but the doors seemed like so fast, and such a long way. He had to admit. Silva was an evil force to be reckoned with. Pit needed to retreat and recover for now, but eventually the Light Warrior would return and continue the fight. Should he get away now, the fight would be far, far from over.

He won the battle, but not the war.

((feeling crappy and ooc. Sorry.))

As Silva came up to finish the battle and end the Angel's life, he did a ridiculous and unpredictable move. He spat angel down into Silva's face, making his slash unfocused and offset. Such a child's tactic. A clasping of sandal to marble caused Silva's head to turn as he wiped feathers from his sweaty face. From the looks of it...Pit was running away. Coward! Once you're in a fight, you stay until you're defeated, and in Silva's case, you weren't defeated until you were dead!

One thought urged Silva to go after such a sad opponent and slay him before he could even escape. But another thought dismissed this. Why waste faltering energy on killing off someone not worthy to stain your blade with their blood? No, Silva would let the scared little angel escape. He'd live, remembering the shame he brought on himself and the victory that Silva ripped from Pit's hands. He was sure that Pit would never remember him, and that vengeance would plague the boy's pure mind. Then, he'd be vulnerable.

Chuckling, Silva turned and flicked his blade, sending off the blood of the angel against the ground. He then sat upon the alter as he took out his cleaning cloth, and began to wipe away the gore and filth that was too dry to simply shake away. Yes, Silva had already won in two respects. He had destroyed an angel's pride and perverted their mind to make them vulnerable to the darkness. He was content with that, for now. Giving his blade one last wipe down, he pocketed the cloth and put away his weapon.

"Run with your life, and live in the shame of defeat. That shame will stick with you until you either kill me...or die." Silva muttered, before turning and jumping through the Cathedral window, shattering the frail material and sending the rainbow colored glass flying all around him as he landed behind the building and made his way back home.