Toll no bell for me Father but let
This cup of suffering pass from me
Send me no shepherd to heal my world
But the angel, the dream foretold

Black fluid seeped and splattered across the ground as the severely wounded archangel half staggered, half crawled through the treacherous landscape of the Mountain Range. The pierce wounds located on her wrists, ankles, and her forehead, along with many other area’s of her small figure, were all signs of vigorous torture as a prisoner inside the core of her older, sinister, heart-less adult self. She had just escaped from the Mother of Darkness’s grasp and as a last, desperate attempt for salvation; she tore open a portal to another world. Anything would be better than where she was. That was how she ended up here in Arda, an alien place to her child eyes, but a familiar terrain to her elder’s mind. Dark hair wisped past her milk white face as she coughed for air. Salega the archangel hit her knees coughing, her dark blood dripping onto the earth with vigorous hisses. When she’d fell through the portal, Salega fell through the skies of this realm. She had fallen onto the back of the golden dragon P’Jeil in a miracle that robbed her of every breath she had in her fragile lungs. Unfortunately, her body, weak and wounded as it already was, had not recovered from the trauma. The silver of her crown indicated her noble blood gleamed in the light of the sun beams; the only thing covering majority of her lithe figure was her long, jet-black hair. The small solid black dress which had once been a whole, royal attar was now like a dish rag- torn in various places where Salega had been bound through years of torture.

Prayed more than thrice for you to see
The wolf of loneliness in me
Not my own will but yours be done

Her battered body quivered with each cough as she struggled to breathe, gasping for air like a fish out of water. The ruby embedded on the crest of her silver plated head piece was showered with an inky substance as the small archangel coughed up her own blood. After a few moments, Salega finally caught her breath, grasping a careful hold of a large nearby leaf. Placing the edge of the plant to her parched lips, she drank the limited amount of dew it had to offer, quenching her thirst. It’d been such a long time since she’d had a decent drink such as this; Salega clasped her hands together in silent prayer to thank the god’s for their kindness, murmuring her short prayer softly. Swiping her tongue over her thin lips once to give them a bit of much needed moisture, Salega used the trunk of the tree next to her as support while she regained her footing. A whimper fell from her mouth then; she was hopelessly lost. What a wonderful day to get lost! Fighting back her weakness, she grabbed hold of her severely bleeding arm as she took one listless step at a time towards only Goddess knew where. The faint beating of her heart reminded her of how close to death she’d been, yet another reason to take her precious time in finding civilization. But who was she kidding?! Salega needed a healer and fast. Her wounds, mainly the ones on her wrists and ankles, were so deep that the bone could be seen. It was a mere miracle she was still able to walk! The angel girl staggered, but she caught herself just before her body took the plunge. She couldn’t take much more of this.

You wake up
Where is the tomb?
Will Easter come?
Enter my room
The Lord weeps with me,
But my tears fall for you

There were so many things to think about now. Lego, the Mother of Light, had returned to Silent Ruins, and that ment that Salega had to see her straight away. However, she also knew of the Mother of Darkness’s interest in Arda, and she knew of the knights deployed in the realm. As such, it was her job to find and serve Arda’s Goddess of Light and protect her from the forces of darkness. Perhaps that task seemed a bit extreme for someone who looked no older than eight years of age, but Salega Cesario’s original job was to protect the Mother of Light, who was a goddess. Lego would want her to protect as many people as she possibly could- saving the innocent was her job. It was up to Salega to pass down the Goddess’s teachings and take up a position in the Temple of Light. However, there was a major flaw to that task. Salega was no where near the temple nor Kieraline, and there was no way in heck she’d get there without assistance. She had no idea where she was, nor did she know where the temple was, and that ment she would need a guild. First thing was first, though, and that was to find civilization and a medicine man. Even though she knew her wounds would never truly heal, they at least needed to be closed before they became infected any further.

Another beauty loved by a beast,
Another tale of infinite dreams
Your eyes, they were my paradise
Your smile made my sun rise

Ouch! she stumbled once, catching hold of a small tree that was just big enough to support her weight. Black blood trickled down her limbs and criss-crossed over her stomach as it seeped and dripped onto the soil below, acting like a poisonous acid on contact. The high doses of malice, curtsey of her darkness blood, was a grim mark of what she was destined to become. Suddenly, a pang of cold fear washed over her. What if evil crept near by? They would be able to smell her blood, and her weakened state. In this condition, Salega was not, by any standers, ready for a fight for her life. Her senses here were dull- the high amount of blood loss was beginning to go to her head. Just as she was about to cave into her own misery and inconstancy, she thought of the one she loved and snapped back into awareness. Using her love to fight her creeping frailty, Salega pressed onwards, hoping to see a town in the distance. Instead of buildings in the distance, she found only more mountain range as she continued down the winding path. It was her fault for wondering away from the dragon’s side that she was in this mess! With each and every step she took, her thoughts raced and panic begun to seep in. What if she was thousands of miles away from the nearest healer?! It would surely take a miracle to pull her through then. But miracles didn’t just swoop across the sky or ride in on a white stallion like some kind of prince. Or… did they?

Forgive me, for I don’t know what I gain
Alone in this garden of pain
Enchantment has but one truth:
I weep to have what I weep to loose

OoC: Lyrics from “Gethsemane” by Nightwish, on the album “Ocean Born”.

Quinn had made his way down the steep jagged cliff face as carefully as he could. He was still annoyed at having to abandon his bounty but he had to find his sword if he was to face him again. He began to pick up speed as he got closer to the bottom, the mountains had lost it’s steepness and plant life began to emerge from the rocky terrain. But still no sign of his sword or his pack of supplies. Finally after who knows how long of wandering around the base of the mountain where he had encountered Gurr he finally spotted a the all too familiar tip of his katana. With a sigh of relieve and a smile on his face, he grabbed the sword and gave it a careful examine to make sure it was still whole. Again he sighed with relieve it was still in tack, even after the fall, this was definitely a well made sword he thought to himself as he sheathed it to his side. Now all was left was his pack. He could survive without most of those supplies, he was after all an Elf, he knew how to survive with in the wilderness days on end with out anything except a knife. But still, there were still a few items of importance to him he wouldn’t want to leave laying around here for someone else to stumble upon.

He resumed his search, only finding it once the last light of day fell behind the mountains. With a sigh and a troubled look to the darken sky above he began to search for shelter or somewhere more comfortable to lay down on. It was then as he searched with his Eleven eyes in the dim light of night a liquid on the ground caught his attention. He approached it pool of this odd liquid, knelt beside it and began to examine it. Blood? He questioned to himself, except he didn’t know who’s blood it belong to, a beast or monster or perhaps someone in need? Looking a around he found more blood, a trail, someone or something was injured yet still moving. He had a long day already did he really want to track this…thing? But the possibility that someone need help was too overbearing for him to just ignore. He had his supplies so it wasn’t as if there was an excuse, keeping his hand just below the hilt of his sword he began to follow the trail of blood, ready for anything that may be a head of him.

Night had completely covered the area where Quinn was trying to find the owner of the blood, he had to rely heavily on his eye sight to avoid tree roots, rocks, boulders just about the entire landscape seemed to be against him on finding the person in need. But he never lost the trail, and he could feel as if he was getting closer, and the closer he got to his target, the more sure he was that someone was hurt at the end of the trail the amount of blood had assured him that the person or whoever was close to death which made him speed up feeling as if he was the only one that could save this person from death only if he arrived in time.

There! Quinn stopped with a smooth fluid motion, right before him he saw a small figure struggling forward, blood coming out of her many wounds all over her body. It was just a girl, a young one too by the looks of it. As details of the girl were made clear to Quinn’s mind, he just stood in disbelief, how could a kid like her be out here all along, and seeming to be on deaths doorway? He did a quick look around, still not sure if she was all alone or not, was something hunting her besides him? He didn’t notice anything else but him tacking her. He had to help, or at least try, he couldn’t live wit himself he just left her to die, especially like this. Trying not to startle her, he made sure to make noise as he approached the small framed girl. As he got closer the seriousness of her wounds became apparent, he could even catch the sight of bone within some of the deepest wounds. She swayed in front of him, how could she walk? He asked himself as his sight never left the girls. As she swayed he quickly finished the distance between them to catch her and steady her.

“Hey there kiddo, you shouldn’t be walking like this.” You shouldn’t be alive was what really was going through his mind, but he didn’t want to scare her any more then she already was. He gave the girl a friendly smile as he tried to get her to lay down, he need to take a good look at her wounds. He had already decided it was pointless to try to take her to the nearest village, it would be too late, he had to try to close up her wounds on his own and hope she lives through the night. If she does then he can make sure she gets the proper care she needs. Setting down his pack he found his canteen of water and brought it out, uncapped the top and began to move it to the girl.

“Here, drink this.” He said making sure she drinks a good amount. During this he began to rack his brain for the memories of his mother’s teachings of medical herbs. It’s been a long time since he was required to use this knowledge, or lack thereof, he never really paid much attention, usually buying any small medicine he could carry with him or relaying on healers as he passed through villages. “You seemed to have been though something fierce. You need to relax, I’m no healer but I’ll make sure you make it to one as soon as I can, but for now I need to close your wounds so they don’t become infected.” He explained to the girl, hoping she understood him and would allow him to continue.

You wake up
Where is the tomb?
Will Easter come?
Enter my room
The Lord weeps with me,
But my tears fall for you

Panting, the small girl lifted her gaze towards the sky, her black eyes absorbing the sight of a full pale moon. A moon! It really was a moon! Salega smiled, her eyes bright as they glittered about the moon's body in the sky. It been centuries since she'd last seen the moon, or any light for that matter, and the mere sight of such magnificence sent her heart to racing with joy. Dark tears of joy streamed down the smooth, pale planes of her small face as she stared upon the solitary moon. But the moon ment nightfall- the dreadful dark was upon her! Darkness normally crawled with demons and vampires and that ment trouble for Salega Cesario. This isn't good, she bit her lip in thought, I can't be out here. Just when her anxity begun to boil, the sound of snapping twigs lanced the air. Black eyes shrunk within the white of her eye as her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. She wasn't alone here anymore.

I knew you never before
(I knew you never more)
But the love, the pain, the hope,
O beautiful one,
Have made you mine 'til all of my years are done

Footfalls, heavy and making an aweful lot of noise, sounded from behind her. Whoever it was clearly wanted her to know they were there. Soon after, the feeling of fear drifted away once she could sense the aura that spilt from the figure behind her. It was calming and syrene, compassionate, and full of worry. Her body swayed; she wasn't sure if it was safe for them to be out at night, but what other choice did she have? Her fragile frame swayed once more, this time without her notice, and her body begun to faulter. Before she hit the floor, the shadowed figure closed the distance between them and used their own weight to steady her. “Hey there kiddo, you shouldn’t be walking like this.” a calming male voice spoke to her softly. By his scent, she knew him to be an elf, and by the bulk of his figure, he was well trained. Had he been the miracle she'd been hoping for all along?

Without you,
(without you...)
All the poetry within me
is dead

Salega didn't answer him. She couldn't. Her throat was still rasp and sore from screaming so loudly during her plight in the sky; it hurt just to murmur. His face was a blurred silhouette in her vision. Barely concious of his lieing her down, Salega felt the rim of a bottle against her parched lips. Her body lurched as she felt the cool damp water bag against her skin; she drank deeply, refreshing her dehydrated system and slightly mending her throat with the passage way of the cool liquid. He was letting her take her fill. This elf, bless his soul, was actually trying to help her! He was her mircale after all. "“You seemed to have been though something fierce. You need to relax, I’m no healer but I’ll make sure you make it to one as soon as I can, but for now I need to close your wounds so they don’t become infected.” he explained to her. Salega nodded slightly in the dark, hoping he would see that she understood him. You have no idea, my friend. she thought as she closed her eyes to keep her head from spinning, I can't be calm when it's nightfall. I have to... warn you, kind stranger... de...mons...

Her thoughts were left unfinnished as the large amount of blood loss finally took it's toll upon her body. Salega's eyes closed softly as she fell into unconsciousness, almost lolling to the side. Her breathing was slow but steady- a sigh that she didn't intend on dying any time soon but more importantly, a sigh of life. The archangel's flesh was like ice against his warm touch. She'd been several years without any source of heat nor warmth nor affection, even in her "sleep", she seemed to curl to his warmth as if she was desperate to feel alive again. Her mind spun while her body numbed further, the different chambers of thoughts vibrating with activity. This stranger would never understand her story, no matter how old or mature he was, but he did at least deserve an explaination. How could an Elf understand that she only looked like a child, when in reality, she was older than all other living beings? Her life had been a long and dreadful one full of endless suffering and agony and anguish. It was a common desire among humans to be like the god's, who they envied for their immortality- being able to live forever. The god's however, envied human's for their mortality. Being immortal was nothing special. They would live long enough to hear the sound of guns, long enough to find themselves screaming every night, long enough to watch their friend's betray them. But mortal's... they didn't know how good they had it. A mortal's life was special; human's only lived once, and that made everything they did all the more special.

Like the God's, Salega also envied mortality to an extent. If she were mortal, she'd have been long dead millions of years ago. That was both a good thing and a bad thing. Good hence that she would be free from care, from pain, but bad for the universe. Her elder self was still out there, waiting, calculating, hunting, and collecting souls to analyze. The Dark Messiah would be unstoppable should her heart, Salega, be killed or destroyed. It fact, dying would be doing her older self a favor. And that ment horrible, horrible things for her beloved Lego, the Mother of Light. With a pang, Salega knew in her thoughts that the cold reality of the existance of other world's was a gravity in itself. Would the kind stranger comprehend that as well? Could he comprehend that she, in this child's form, was only one of two?

Kos’harn was thinking. He had been thinking hard for quite some time now and still had not reached a conclusion. How in the name of the gods was he going to get this girl with the Elf protecting her? It would have been easy; find the girl, kill the girl, get the money. Kos’harn was not a bounty hunter by trade, but this sort of money was hard to pass up. He would need plenty if her were ever to raise an army again.

He had been searching all over the Ered Annon Mountains for days now, looking for this one little girl. Once he had smelt the scent of her blood he had gone crazy, desperate for more. He had tracked the girl to a little clearing and was just preparing to sweep in and take her head when the Elf turned up. He complicated things. Kos’harn had no desire to fight if it was unnecessary; the risk of injury or death was too great. But he could see no other way. He could wait until the Elf went to sleep, but then there was a chance of him waking up at the critical moment. It would be unlikely that the girl would be left alone, especially being as injured as she was. Seeing the state of her brought back happy memories…

He snapped back to the present, continuing to watch the Elf and the girl. No, there was no other way, he would have to fight. He swooped down from his hiding place among the trees, gliding to a halt before the Elf. He held his scythe one handed by his side.

“Elf” he said, his voice dripping with malice, “I am Kos’harn. This girl is mine; I will take her head. Leave now or you will share the same fate.”

He stood ready, fully expecting to have to kill the Elf.

He felt more then saw the girl nod to his explanation before the loss of blood finally made her pass out. Maybe, Quinn thought, it was because she felt safe, after all her wounds told him that she should have passed out much sooner, now that he was here, she could finally rest and allow her body to heal itself. Quickly rummaging through his pack, finding some spare cloth of his, he began to administer her wounds as best her could. He found one jar of cream that should help stop the bleeding at least, though he wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough. As he was working, something in the air made he stop abruptly, turning his head he saw another figure standing before him.

So this girl wasn’t alone, this wraith was after her, was it he who did this too her? He didn’t think so, if this wraith had already had her, she wouldn’t have been able to get away. Now Quinn had a choice, leave the girl to the wraith or fight. It had been a while since he fought for something other then a bounty. The last time….well things didn’t turn out great in the end. Basically, he told himself, was he willing to give the girl his loyalty? After all he always kept his word, but he hadn’t given his word to the girl yet.

Stop hesitating! Quinn yelled at himself, pulling himself to his feet, making his stance between the girl and the wraith. Moving his right hand to his left side, he pulled his katana out.

“Sorry, but I can’t leave a helpless child with the likes of you.” Quinn said, allowing his cocky attitude to show. “Now it’s my turn to make the threat, get away from her or I’ll end your miserable life!” He spoke with attitude but he was calm and calculating inside, he didn’t know how strong this wraith was, or even if he stood a chance, but he would defend this girl with his life.

Aquis was giggling again. Geis growled softly- it was almost embarrassing to see her as she was. She had been, not so long ago, one of the most powerful archelementals in Calaris- capable of taming the great ice wyrms and halting an avalanche in mid-stride. Now she was... he sighed, watching as she chased her own fish-like tail. Now she was different. Changed. She had but a fraction of her original power and seemed to be almost childlike. He had seen, at the waxing of the last moon, her get angry at a spoon and freeze it until it shattered into wooden splinters. And then he had seen her cry over the remains of that spoon. It reminded him of a youngling who, overeager, had broken a new toy.

Geis growled again. Whoever had done this to her- whoever had broken her mind and spirit- he would make them pay. He did not know how yet, but he would. She had protected his clan for generations- it was the Coldfur's turn for them to help as well. Deep down though, he was worried. Without a guardian spirit, how would his clan fare in the coming winter...? He shook his head, his clan would survive- they always had. He couldn't possibly imagine them following victim to anything short of a major invasion of the southern lands. And he knew that that had not yet happened.

He caught the scent of blood- it left an odd, almost sweetly bitter taste in his mouth- and he was so confused by it that he couldn't even start to remotely identify it. Old? Fresh? Of the dead? Of the living? He couldn't tell and wasn't curious enough to check. He was on a self-appointed mission and wouldn't allow much to get in the way of it. His B.A.D.I. code of conduct did not specifically say to go and investigate every drop of blood that happened to come in his way. And, to be honest, after returning from the moon he had felt sick about killing. Sick of it all.

Aquis, however, had other ideas. With another giggle she sped away. He sniffed the air again, tentatively. She was heading right for the source of the blood-scent. He smelled something else to... something familiar. A name rang in his head. Kos'harn. He sighed- this wasn't something he could ignore anymore. Kos'harn hadn't become famous enough to merit B.A.D.I.'s attention yet, but Geis knew from personal experience what the wraith was capable of.

Shifting in his unfamiliar and uncomfortable B.A.D.I. uniform he trekked further into the wilderness. Seeking answers. Seeking vengeance.

Kos'harn watched as the man readied himself, unsheathing his sword and stepping in front of the girl. Fool he thought, you waste your life for this girl. There is no way you can win. he smiled at the thought, revealing fang like teeth.

He readied himself too, holding the scythe in both hands and looking the Elf straight in the eyes. Intoxicated as he was from the smell of the girls blood he still remained as calm as he could be under the circumstances. His senses were heightened, he felt the cool of the breeze whip and tug at the hem of his cloak, the birds calling in the trees above, the steady breathing of the girl on the forest floor and the quiet drip-drip of the blood seeping from her wounds. His eyes narrowed, he bent his knees slightly.

“So be it” he whispered.

In a blink he was on the elf, scythe and body whirling like a dervish, aiming to eviscerate the foolish Elf.

Quinn was ready, his body was tense and alert for whatever trick this Kos’harn was going to throw at him. Already he could see some disadvantage, he wielding only a single blade while the wraith carried two. Quinn quickly pushed this thought from his mind, he needed to be totally focused in this fight if he was to survive.

Immediately Kos’harn charged him like a maniac, whirling so fast, Quinn almost lost sight of his blades…almost. Raising his blade, he countered his opponents attack with his katana. Deflecting the blades away from his body, he turned sideways and charged Kosh’arn positioning his elbow to hit his opponents’ chest. He had to get this fight away from the girl, or at least far enough away that he wouldn’t have to worry about her getting in the way. At the same time, he couldn’t avoid to lose his position between her and the wraith. This made things much more difficult, he had just limited his moves.

“So what’s with the girl? Why is she so valuable to you?” He asked, the question burning in his mind for some time now. This girl, he had already figured out was something of an oddity, with the appearance of a Wraith, just increased his opinion on that matter. So why was he fighting? Quinn blamed it on his parents, even though he left he Elves all that time ago, some of their believes still remain deep within him. He always were a sucker for helping those who appear weak and in danger. But there were also questions here, and he was too curious to let them just pass. Would the Wraith answer his questions?

A shuddering sigh fell from Salega’s trembling lip. She could smell the stench of evil, the scent of the lycan somewhere nearby, and yet her body simply would not allow her to wake. For any other sane individual, hysteria would have surely crept into her dream-state by this time. However, Salega wasn’t exactly one hundred percent sane in every aspect of the word. She knew that her older ego would eventually find her, but for now, she was safe in a dream. But even in her dreams, she couldn’t escape her dark side. As the clash of Quin’s sword met with the wraith’s sythe, darkness swept in from the corners of her mind’s vision, engulfing her once happy dream in an all too familiar gloom.

Salega was torn from the arms of her beloved goddess, Lego as the darkness engulfed her vision. The Mother of Light yelled the girl’s name in retrospect, her long milk white arm stretching outwards for Salega’s. Without hesitation, Salega reached back for her as a child would his mother, sheer horror alive in her black eyes. Liquid-like tendrils of darkness stuck to Lego’s golden feathered wings, pulling her backward into the dark. The same tendrils crawled up Salega’s out stretched arm, coating their figures as they were slowly torn from one another. The goddess didn’t give up without a fight; Lego slide her unseen legs further into the darkening soil beneath her, determined to stay by her child guardian. Salega’s fingertips breezed the others, and just when she thought she’d won, Lego was constricted and hurled into the ever dark. ”NOO!!!” The darkness enveloped her…

Falling through an empty space of blackness for what seemed like an eternity, the ‘archangel’, whose arm still reached forth for the hand she would never touch, cast her hopeless gaze before her. As her body ment the cruel impact of what could be identified as solid ground, eyes that of a funeral pyre stared back at her, harboring all of the malice of the world’s over in one gaze. The reflection of herself as an adult (in body) always unsettled her, for everything was changed, everything was different. She had no desire to become the monster of which she was doomed to become. And, in truth, the woman in the reflection didn’t want her alive. Without Salega, there would be nothing holding her and her forces back. As the older version of herself spoke, her rough accent stuck to the demonic tongue as she spoke in the native language of SR.

”Second robber to the right of Christ, cut in half- infanticide.” Behind the Dark Messiah’s figure, she could see a small body strapped down to an altar in what looked like the top of a tower. The swinging blade of a dark stained pendulum swayed back and forth above the hacked corpse. Salega’s eyes furrowed. Was that… her?
Her altar ego twirled in merriment, her tone filled with an evil satisfaction as she sang,” The world will rejoice today as the crow’s feast on the rotting poet! Everyone must carry their own, no pack to carry the heart of stone. Now she’s home in hell, serves her well. Slain by the bell tolling for her farewell,”

The elbow attack knocked Kos’harn back a few feet, a few feet more he’d have to gain to get to the girl. He backed away still further, allowing for a comfortable fighting distance between them. The Elf spoke to him.

“You’re using all the muscles except the one that matters” he quipped, “why do you think I want her?”

He lashed out twice more with the scythe, not aiming to do any damage, but to manoeuvre around the Elf to get the girl. That was his advantage, all he had to do was get her head and get away, this Elf had to look after himself and keep Kos’harn away from the girl.

“Life is an unbalanced equation” he called, “the scales constantly tip in favor of one side or the other. Death can come at any time. You waste your life for a lost cause, so I offer you again, leave now. Take your life and flee.”

He began to try and circle around the Elf.

“I have the power to give life, and the power to end it. I am giving you your life, take it and leave the girl to me.” he tempted.

And off the arch-elemental went, trails of crystal water marking her path and falling as gently as rain as she giggled and went on. Geis frowned (he seemed to be doing that more and more these days) and tucked his head in as- as if in answer to her arrival- a gust of cold win tore frantically at his uniform. In all honesty, the uniform was an impediment to motion and Geis did not understand why fur-heads even bothered. His fur insulated him from the cold in ways this second fur did not and worse, when the uniform got wet it *stayed* wet making him a shivering lump for the next few hours as he waited for it to dry. He had learned the hard way that this second fur was meant to be taken off on a rather routine basis.

More giggles. Had Aquis found something? Someone? The scent of blood was getting stronger. Much stronger. As did another scent- he could identify three- no four scents. Two of them had mixed together so much he had thought them one at first, but could now distinguish the two of them as he moved closer. What a ridiculous situation- even twins didn't have scents that were so similar! Resolving to move more slowly and try to verify the situation before he leapt into the gods knew what sort of mess he purposely stopped and then tried to move to a spot with a better vantage. He didn't feel like climbing a tree but... considering the problem he hadn't noticed that Aquis had gotten far enough in front of him to matter until he realized he could no longer hear her pearly laughter.

"Damnit," the lupine muttered in his native tongue. He let caution go to the winds- it was time to see whether or not he lived or died today.

So he was going to beat around the bushes, Quinn could understand that, whatever was going on, it seemed that he had only stumbled into it, with no understanding why this girl was so important to a wraith. Whatever the case, it didn’t change his mind. He deflected each blow that was cast on him, keeping his eye on the wraith the entire time as he spoke and circled him.

“Whatever.” Quinn said as he moved to keep his spot between the girl and Kos’harn, he swung his katana in an arch starting at his bottom right and lifting it up to his top left. His face showed his determination to continue this fight.

“It seems that I stumbled into something much larger then I expected. I don’t know what it all is but it’s not a lose cause until everyone gives up. And I don’t give up!” He shouted back as he let loose more attacks with his katana. He didn’t know how this would end, but he would defend this girl with his life.

Suddenly he heard something else approaching them. There was no time to look back, he had to keep his concentration but if this guy had reinforcements then this could very well be his end.

Slain by the bell…? The archangel child cast her gaze to the black, featureless ground. Tolling for her… farewell? The laughing before her raised in volume, echoing through every portion of Salega’s mind, rattling every chamber and secret door. Ebony orbs peeked upwards. Her vision was blurred; swaying from clear to distortion in seconds that where unpredicted. But her ears heard everything. A loud scream pierced through her brain, jerking tears to her dark chibi eyes. The voice that had cried out was the most beautiful voice Salega had ever heard; a soprano pitch that had become the yew of a graveyard, full of anguish and agony. As her vision swayed to be semi-clear, she could see four knights holding back her beloved Lego by the arms. Tears streamed down the smooth, pale planes of the Mother of Light’s face, her legs trying to step forth as her arms yanked back and forth. It was as if she where witnessing the death of a loved one and she was struggling to break free of the enemies grasp to save who ever it was she was crying for.

The golden halo atop her sun-kissed head illuminated the entire chamber, her legs urging forth beneath the confinements of her dress. Her golden featured wings flailed about helplessly, trying to either get airborne or gather enough wind to blow the enemy away. ”Get off of her!” Salega reached for one of the four knights, aiming for a pressure point to help free her goddess. But her effort was all in vain. Her hand phased through the figure of the knight as if they where a ghost. Blinking, Salega grounded her teeth and tried once more, but once again, received the same result. Other people, faces of which Salega knew, passed by the altar as the morning dawned upon the remains of the corpse. They all spat upon the carcass’s grave with malice and distain, without the slightest bit of shame in their obsidian-hued eyes. As each of them past through the beams of the morning sun, Salega could see some of which she knew, and some of whom she’d never met in her life. Her vision swayed again as a tall, slender figure crossed the chamber to stand before the altar. All she could make out of the person was their eyes… as crimson as the blood which flowed through mortal veins, a wide, dragonic-like pupil fixed upon the remains on the altar. In the instant she saw those glorious eyes which bore no emotion to their depth, Salega realized with a sinking heart who it was- the Diabolo she’d come to love.

Words fell from the trembling lips of the blurred figure, distorted words not even wolven ears could decipher. Hearing that voice again rose a small flame of hope somewhere in Salega’s body, but at the same time, it crushed her very spirit. She didn’t know what the Diabolo was saying, but their words where grave; black bangs hide their death pale face. The Dark Messiah’s heart-wrenching laughter grew both in malice and volume; Salega’s head turned to see that Lego had somehow managed to get free of the knights, and she ran straight for the altar. Her footfalls echoed like heart beats… growing fainter and more distant with each step. Chains broke through the image in a crimson haze, snatching up the fragile girl by the wrists and ankles. Another chain shot from the darkness of her mind, the links coiling about her delicate throat. Blades hacked into her flesh, eating away to the very bone. Salega cried out, yanking the links of which had stolen away her freedom. Fire lurched from below, warping into an inferno that billowed around her, licking at her heels. No! her thoughts screamed in desperation, I want to be free! LET ME GO!

”The dreamer and the wine
Poet without a rhythm
A widowed writer torn apart by chains of hell”

Sweat beaded across her forehead, the sounds of battle growing louder. Her eyelids snapped open with a start; Salega awoke to find herself screaming. The scenery of a battle graced her vision- a wraith taking on the elfin mercenary who had so kindly helped her. Cupping her palms over her mouth to muffle her screams as she desperately tried to calm herself, the archangel pulled herself into a crawl. Without catching the enemy’s attention, she had to let the kind stranger know she was alright and awake… for now. Keeping her head low as not to catch the wraith’s attention, Salega scurried to the nearest tree with the elf’s belongings tucked tightly to her chest, hoping that somehow, Quin would notice her plan. As silently as she could, she dug inside of it, searching for something to hinder the enemy’s vision. Her fingertips skimmed among smooth fabric- a tunic perhaps. Without a second thought, Salega pulled it out and readied it in her hands. She knew she didn’t have much of an option now- hinder his vision, then run like hell. That was the only way she could think of at the moment that didn’t call for any unneeded bloodshed. Violence was such a cruel way to settle things; she preferred to outwit her opponents in a nonviolent way. And she would do just that.

((Apologies for the delay))

Kos'harn continued to circle his opponent, searching for a weakness, just one little slip up that would allow him to gain the upper hand. His opponent was obviously a practiced swordsman or else he would have not been able to hold off Kos'harn for so long. He heard a scream from somewhere nearby but had not the time to look for the one who uttered it. Time to stir things up a little.

"The girl you protect, she is an abomination. She is demon spawn. She does not belong among those of piety and light. Hand he over and I will dispose of her." he growled.

All the while he spoke he had been preparing. The scythe was now upside down, the blade of it resting on the floor. Kos'harn held it with one at the end of the shaft. He took one more step, then whipped in up, spinning like a manic. He let go of the scythe and it hurtled toward the Elf at a shocking speed, covering the distance in a heartbeat.

Kos... Geis struggled to re-call the creature... no, the 'Wraith's ' name. At the last moment, just before he would have broken cover, Aquis had giggled back towards him and then slammed one very cold but very hard fist into his stomach. His wind broken and his mind paralyzed but what he had considered a betrayal he had fallen slumped to the snow. He had thought that Aquis had gone ice-crazy... it happened sometimes to elementals. Too much exposure to their native element made them act weirdly or do things that seemed completely irrational. Fire elementals were the most susceptible- with a varying source of flame the nature of an elemental could greatly change. Lava was different from forest fires just as...

Just as frozen blood was different from frozen water.

Geis considered, tried to understand. Such a smattering amount had made Aquis go ice-crazy? It seemed inconceivable. He knew she had regressed... but to the point where she was so susceptible to outside influences as to be turned by a mere thought? It seemed nigh-inconceivable. No, it was inconceivable. Not even the-

And then the scent had come and Geis had understood. Aquis was still trying to protect him. He felt a momentary pang at what he had considered traitorous thoughts. She had protected their clan for millenia after all... she would not, definitely not, go ice crazy. She could not. Would not.

But what -was- she doing? Geis groaned and tried to crawl forwards. She was strong, far stronger than he was. He wondered at that- how much of the power had she lost was merely mental? Could she possibly be as powerful as before? He didn't want to consider the implications to -that- equation. The power of an elder elemental with the mind of a youngling. Chaos would erupt wherever she went...

Going on gamely he moved forwards. Crawling and inching forwards. Hopefully this hurt in his gut would pass.

V.V.V.V.V

Giggling Aquis made her way forwards so that she hovered right next to the human warrior and his charge- his burden. Forcing herself to concentrate her self, her -real- self managed to manifest, even if for just an instant. Her tail, the translucent ice-like appendage was momentairily replaced by two icy see-through legs.

"Fear not," she told him. "I will aid ye."

And then she transformed back, her form wavering as she returned back to a younger and more carefree self that still, nonetheless, warily watched their antagonist. Dangers exuded from this encounter and yet... and yet...

There would be time enough. Once Geis caught second wind he would come up with a plan. That's what he did best. For now, they would have to survive.

“Now, who mentioned anyone being here part of the Light?” Quinn teased back, still keeping himself between the girl and Kos’harn, though things were beginning to get difficult, it could be the fact that he hadn’t slept yet and it was almost the next day. He had already had a fight against Gurr Laga earlier in the day, then his exhausting climb back down the mountain, now this. How much more would his body take before he collapsed in exhaustion?

With one quick glance back, he truly began to rethink his position, was he really going to sacrifice his life for this girl he didn’t know? What if this wraith was telling the truth that she was this abomination, something from the darkness, he had no reason to protect someone like that….did he? Then the girl moved, and he returned to his original plan, on saving this girl, though he would have many question to ask her once they were free. She seemed to make gesture to him, picking up his bag and ran behind a tree, she then proceeded to rummage through his sack.

Quinn hoped that the wraith didn’t see this, that his body would shield her movements. But what was she doing? He was just about to yell back at her to drop his bag firstly then to run, but he saw her take something out. What he wasn’t sure but it seemed she had a plan. Slowly he began to move backwards, allowing Kos’harn to think he was getting the upper hand. Then something strange happened, just as Kos’harn was raising his scythe preparing for what looked like his final attack, he heard a voice, though at this point he was not going to take his eyes off Kos’harn. He had began to spin his weapon around like a lunatic, this wasn’t looking good, would he have enough speed to dodge such an attack? But this voice, was it the girl? But it seemed older, and it told him not to fear, that this women would aid him. He had no time to think on it Kos’arn had released his scathe and it flew straight at him.

He had to time this just right, keeping his eye on the scythe he waited until the last moment to jump out of the way. It worked, but just barely, Quinn landed off to the side, as the scythe landed in the middle of a tree, pain shot up his side, as he grabbed his side, he could feel blood trickling out from his body. But that was the least of his worries, the girl had been right behind that tree, he had given up his position, he just hoped that whomever told him that they would help, that they would jump in now.

But he didn’t stand around to watch, as soon as he got to his feet, he ran to the girl, if the scythe hit the tree, he hoped it was stuck, it should buy them enough time to get a good distance between them. He reached the girl and picked her up, would this work, would they get away? He kept his eye on Kos’harn, what would he do next? Quinn wanted to make sure that he couldn’t attack before he turned his back on him.

The kind elven stranger sprang out of the path of his opponent's scythe, momentarily loosing his protective place before her. Salega instictively leaned back farther against the bark of the tall oak, cautious of the enemies gaze. The Hand of Sorrow had been chased many a times and by now, she knew better than to allow them to see even the gleam of her silver crown. The moment Quinn moved, Salega side stepped behind Kos'harn, prepared to place the bag over his face in order to make a clean get away. But her plans where foiled.

Strong arms reached down to her once the sythe had winded past him and towards the trunk of the oak tree, sweeping her off her feet in a simple, flawless movement. The archangel bit her tongue to keep in her startlement; if the wriath heard her, he'd whip around to chase the elf in order to seize her from his grasp. She had just recently become free and Salega didn't intend on going back to the miserable world of which she had come- or rather fell- out of. Where would he run? Where would he hide? Where could he go? Instead of worrying about her own safety, Salega was only conserned for her savior. This would not be the only time his life would be in danger because of her- it would be a continuous cycle of running and violence and confusion.

Demons, of all the others, loved to chase her the most. Ohh, the dangerous immortals who sprang from the depths of hell went beserk once the smell of her blood reached their nostrils, hungery for more. To them, and all other evil's, her blood was a rich delicacy that was not meant to be passed up on. It was only a matter of time before one came upon her, and then... Salega winced when she thought about the elf being in the middle of her and the demon or worse, demoness.

Salega could never actually fully explain to this stranger as to why things where the way things where. In a sense, the wriath had been right. Salega Cesario had been born to be evil- look at what (or rather who) she grew up to be... The Queen of Evil. However, she was the heart of that maleoficent goddess, and thus, she was the opposite of her adult self in every way possible. But she couldn't tell him that she wasn't actually an "archangel"- she just looked like one... to an extent. Of all the time Quin had been running, she had been running through all the right words to say to him that would explain ehr situation.

But the simple question remained: Would the elf comprehend the truth?