Seria Sentrandai was having an interesting night. After simply walking up to the gates, guards literally pounced from gate houses and lined the walls. They stared at her, a couple mumbled about an important guard meeting, no doubt assuming her long ears wouldn't pick it out. Seria grumbled inwardly at her choice of reservation dates, and observed the guards have a pitched match of verbal judo, and her eyes narrowed to slits. A powerful curse slipped through her lips, in nearly a shout, and the guards paused to look at her.

"I have reservations at Vesanirre, could we please speed this up? I'll be late, and I won't be able to find some respectable man to join me tonight." Seria informed them, still shouting. They then took a moment to observe the woman's garb, and look past the fact that the detect evil spell that caused them to overlook the fact she might just be another person.

Yet another argument flared up, this time with the captain arguing to his men that she should be let in, and his men arguing that he just wanted to pat her down. Seria's arms crossed beneath her bosom, and she stared at them a little longer. In the end, they brought her into the gatehouse, where the most interesting pat down search of Seria's life commenced, that ended with Seria slapping the man with the back of her hand. She was allowed to leave, and set loose amongst the general populace, once they were certain the time mage was completely unarmed.

Tonight her hair was drawn up behind her head, and held in place by her blue rose, that she had quickly modified with other metal parts to be a quick pin for her hair. Her dress was amazingly regal, and took full liberties with the woman's stupendous figure. The skirt clung to her hips, but flared out before touching the bottom, and was suspended just an inch above the ground. The coloration was primarily blue, but the skirt had a white lace along the edges, and the neckline was also covered in lace. The neckline itself was low, exposing most of her ample feminine 'charms'. Seria's neck was adorned with some simply jewelry, a silver necklace. Her feet were in four inch blue stilletto heels, making her already intimidating height even more impressive. She didn't enjoy wearing the impractical footwear too much, but every once and a while it was nice to go out and be a lady.

As she walked, a couple eyes traced her movements, while she observed the crowd, until she spotted him. An angel. She slid forwards, joining in with the two guards alongside of him, until she was walking alongside of him. Her eyes traced over his garb, and she couldn't help but ask him the question.

"Would you be so kind as to join me in dining at Vesanirre? The food is on me, I've been interesting in trying Arda's so called finest restaurant." Seria said. The food was incredibly expensive, but she could handle it. And see if this day and age's chefs were up to her own demanding standards. Her ears gave a momentary twitch in his direction, a skill that only the most masterful and wonderful and beautiful and most bunny-like of elves could manage.

The doors of the Great Cathedral slid open and a small crowd steadily poured out into the Sanctuary accompanied by the noise carried between each person. There was a large diversity between most of the guardsmen, but many were either human or angel. Thavron, in the middle of a crowd speaking with a coworker, stepped onto the cobblestone and spread out his wings to maintain some space from other people. His attire was more proper and clean than usual; his Lomedor Guard military uniform was free of rips from past excursions, and his black hair was more presentable than normal. Grasped lightly in his right hand was the great blue spear Integrity which caught the light in such a manner it appeared to be made of crystal. Raven leaned forward on Thavron's shoulder and eyed the coworker inquisitively, as if listening to the conversation. The brown angel's left eye, whose iris was a deep gold color, glowed faintly. The other guardsman, a slightly shorter man wearing a similar uniform, concluded what he had been saying, followed by a swift nod from Thavron.

"I will see you next week, then," he replied in dismissal. The man disappeared amongst the crowd and Thavron put a free hand in his pocket. After looking around, confident that nobody was paying attention to him, his expression drastically changed and he cursed under his breath, concealing it with a frustrated sigh. That meeting reinforced my hate of white-wings. I tried to be polite to them, but those damn rats still were giving me looks. There's no way I'm going to another thing like that again. Raven squawked and Thavron tried to compose himself again. He looked to the left, where the Cathedral was, and perched on its roof was a light lavendar bird whose wing and tail feathers sported every color in the rainbow. Thavron's Anima turned up towards it after grooming itself and gave him a blank stare. The brown angel smirked in silent reply, and it lifted its wings and soared through the sky, away from view.

Thavron patted Raven on the head. "May as well leave this place, eh? Long flight back to Lomedor." His remark was drowned out by the noise of the crowds, and he nonchalantly turned around to walk out through the gates to the Sanctuary, but his path was blocked, to his surprise, by an Elven woman obviously dressed for some important occasion. "Would you be so kind as to join me in dining at Vesanirre? The food is on me, I've been interesting in trying Arda's so called finest restaurant." she had asked. "Vesanirre?" The brown angel, incredibly caught offguard by the seemingly random question, first considered declining the invitation. But it had been several hours since he had enjoyed his meager breakfast, and he had never owned the coin to dine at an expensive restaurant like Vesanirre, so even though he would be eating with a complete stranger, it was still mostly an offer he couldn't refuse. Raven eyed Seria suspiciously, and Thavron gave a faint, polite smile at the elf. "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt. Pleased to meet you, the name's Thavron." He gave a small bow, pointing the tip of Integrity slightly away from her. He would keep the weapon by him at all times. Dining with someone you didn't know still carried its risks, and he had to be prepared at all times.

Seria wasn't expecting an immediate positive response. Most of the men would already have dates, and Seria wouldn't have let them drop their dates for her. He apparantly did not, or else he should have mentioned it. But then again, perhaps he had no plans to do anything but look regal on this fine night? She gave a smile, and then a quick bow. The actions had been in response to her assuming that he would require the courtesy, even though she was paying. Her lavendar hair slid across her shoulders as she bowed, but then flicked back as she stood up. The warm smile that graced her gentle pink lips, and the fact her usually piercing eyes were oddly cheerful shouldn't make her too intimidating.

"Oh, why thanks! My name is Seria, and, I guess you are my date for the night? Don't expect a kiss, this is like a night amongst friends, okay?" Seria explained. She hoped she hadn't smashed any hopes he had. It didn't seem likely, this man seemed different compared to the rest. He was a brown wing, which meant he deserved all of Seria's respect, unlike the white wings who would only seek to kill her. They would never look past an alignment and see exactly who someone was. Her ears twitched at this thought, flicking her hair up and down. Then she placed his hand in her own, she noted hers was bigger to her amusement, and lightly held it. She turned around, and lead him through the crowds to Vesanirre.

Upon arrival, the host, a rather regal looking in that waiter fashion man gave a nod.

"Party?"
"Sentrandai, Seria."
"All right then, miss Sentrandai. You will be seated shortly, your reservation entailed the balcony?"
"Correct." Seria said, clinching any further conversation with the host. They waited about a minute, and yet another man strode forth. He gave them a curt nod, and led the two upstairs. The resturaunt itself was created of the finest marble, the white walls matching the beauty of the rest of the pearl like city. He brought them up red carpeted stairs to a second floor, and then brought them out to a balcony.

Here it was temperate, actually a few degrees warmer than the rest of the city. Seria's ears gave a few twitches as that odd feeling of magic passed over them, and she realized that they were paying a mage to keep a spell working over the entire resturaunt. The man stopped them next to a table, and placed two menus on the table. It wasn't so back in Seria's day, back then the chefs had to hopefully know a recipe and then create a dish based off of a customer's request. The elf watched as the waiter went all the way and drew out the chairs for them, and seated Seria. She of course thought the chair to be short, but then again, she had to make do with what she got. Being tall was a curse, no matter what the rest of the world thought. The elf drew up a menu, and flicked it open. She observed a couple choices, and then nodded.

"Well then, I'm a little more than impressed, Thavron. Do you know what you are going to order? Whatever it is I'll be ordering something different, because I want to see how the culinary arts have progressed at least since I left them." Seria explained. She supported her head with a graceful hand, the palm touching her chin. The index finger flicked her pointed ear as she observed the vast expanse of dishes. And quite a few expensive wines.

"Don't be afraid of the price, a dozen gold wouldn't scare me tonight."

(Note-Gold is worth alot food wise, usually it is paid out in coppers, which are a hundredth a gold piece's value, where a mug of ale would cost two copper.)

"Oh, why thanks! My name is Seria, and, I guess you are my date for the night? Don't expect a kiss, this is like a night amongst friends, okay?" Thavron lifted an eyebrow at the thought, alarmed that a complete stranger would think of him to expect a kiss, but he quickly concealed his bewilderment. "Oh, of course, Seri---aaah!" He trailed off when the elf grabbed his hand and yanked him towards the restaurant with a bit more strength than he would expect. It took a good second for him to become composed again, his wings half-opened for balance. Raven was a blur of flapping wings, and she almost slid off his shoulder, but quickly tightened her talons' grip and was able to stay on, to Thavron's obvious pain. Finally, Seria and the brown angel finally arrived at the entrance to Vesanirre. As she spoke with the host, Thavron couldn't help but have some nagging doubts relating to this small "date," if you will. What had he gotten himself into?

The brown angel used Integrity as a walking stick as he made his way up the red-carpeted staircase following Seria and the waitor. When they emerged at the high-altitude balcony and were seated, Thavron took a few moments to enjoy the view. The Sanctuary's gleaming white buildings were almost blinding. The height of the balcony reminded him of his old home when he was a child; built high up in the mountains on a cliff edge, like an eagle's nest. "Well then, I'm a little more than impressed, Thavron. Do you know what you are going to order? Whatever it is I'll be ordering something different, because I want to see how the culinary arts have progressed at least since I left them. Don't be afraid of the price, a dozen gold wouldn't scare me tonight." Something shone in the light out of the corner of his eye and Thavron quickly looked up. On a higher level of rooftop peeked the curious Kamotse, the Anima he had silently told to leave, but had disobeyed. It jumped, aware of its folly, and hid itself from view. Raven jumped off of Thavron's shoulder and perched herself on the back of his chair.

Finally listening to Seria's comment Thavron turned towards the waitor. "Roast duck with white wine, please," he said, then turning towards the elf to listen to what she was planning on ordering. The brown angel belonged to the lower-middle class and was still getting used to this whole thing. It seemed to happen so abruptly.

Seria nodded as to his choice of dishes. Duck would be interesting up here, specifically because the issue of fresh caught or not. She assumed that had some keeping spells to keep the food good, and immediatly contemplated the theories of cooking duck, and exactly why a brown angel would eat something feathered. Then again, she had seen wierder things, like cannibals. That was an interesting day in the kitchen, and an even more interesting day when they called the guards. As she reminisced on this, and the waiter stood by awaiting her order, looking rather annoyed. He gave a cough, and Seria came out of her memories. She quickly looked up, and gave a warm smile, something that rarely graced her.

"Your house special salmon, with, umm, red wine?" Seria said. The waiter nodded, and jotted down the order. He looked about to go, then Seria perked up.

"And those are to be your best red and white wines." Seria declared. She literally felt her gold purse lighten at this request. Wine could be so ridiculously expensive. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a large movement of white winged angels into the resturaunt. She shrugged idly at the sight, awaiting their food to come. The white wingeds were talking quietly amongst themselves in celestial, a language Seria knew barely. She snatched some words, imperial, guard meeting, that damned brown wing, and finally a joke about brown wings. Seria glanced to Thavron, and the whole incident came together.

"Those white wings hate you, huh? I can understand Celestial, thanks to my husband." Seria said, with the word husband sounding nearly like a curse when she said it. A single white wing glanced up from the procession, and gave a curt laugh. Seria missed it entirely, thanks to his position, but Thavron might have noticed it. A good half and hour passed, with the two no doubt making some sort of conversation, when their food came. They placed the delicate wine glasses down first, then the meal laden plates. Seria's fish was sliced up into strips of meat, robbing her of the pleasure of cutting it herself off the bone. It was, however, doused in an elegent garnish, the chef was truly an artist when it came to appearance. She raised the red wine to her blue lips,(Thanks to make-up) and took a gentle slip. When like a ghost, someone drifted up behind her.

"Oh, dearest wife, whatever are you doing with another man? I should hope that you haven't forgotten me, your husband. He said. Giant white wings unfurled behind him, taking up most of the balcony, and there were six in total. All Seria did was freeze, the crimson liquid sloshing against her lips. Her breathing became rapid, causing ripples to move throughout the wine. Her eyes intensified, pure fear paralyzing them into staring straight at Thavron. The elven hand shook visibly, and she slowly lowered her drink.

"Hello Vetaras."

The wait for the food was slightly awkward at best, but Thavron tried to be on his best behavior. Raven appeared to catch on to that and was almost as still as a statue, never giving Seria funny looks, or moving about in a manner that could be found annoying or distracting. The brown angel had his wings folded slightly at his sides when he heard tiny murmurs coming from inside the restaurant. He slowly turned his attention towards them, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity once he caught the color of their wings. White-winged celestials, as usual. You couldn't go ten minutes here in the Sanctuary without seeing one. Their conversations consisted of strings of incomprehensible banter which the brown angel paid almost no attention to. Seria, apparently, had, despite this. "Those white wings hate you, huh? I can understand Celestial, thanks to my husband." she said. Thavron, a surprised look on his face, quickly turned towards the angels and then back towards her. His expression calmed down slightly when he tried to compose himself.

"If they discriminate against me, I will discriminate against them. Not like any of these Sanctuary angels could demonstrate the supposedly good nature of their race. They have become unreasonabely haughty." His tone was purposely loud, and some of the angels turned towards him and scowled, one laughing. Thavron replied with a glare, but dulled when the food arrived. "So, Seria, you can understand them? I was never taught Celestial when I was a child, only Adunaic." He picked up a gleaming silver fork and began eating the duck that had been placed in front of him, Raven sitting quietly and looking up at the pairs of birds that soared through the clear sky. He had his fork half-raised when he looked up at Seria. His first reaction to her terrorized look was that of confusion. Had he done something wrong? Then he himself took on that same look, and his fork dropped, clanging against the plate. Behind Seria was now a large, imposing, six-winged, Imperial Archangel. His arrival was probably one of the worst things that could possibly happen at this moment, besides Vesanirre spontaneously combusting.

"Oh, dearest wife, whatever are you doing with another man? I should hope that you haven't forgotten me, your husband." Thavron froze, baffled but showing no emotion in his face. The only knowledge he had of the power of Imperial Archangels was in legend. "Hello Vetaras." Thavron, struggling to find a proper way to explain himself, stood up, Raven climbing on his left shoulder. His posture was neither threatening nor submissive, and his wings were unfurled just as much as those of Vetaras. "I have no intention of stealing your wife, sir. She had simply invited me to join her in sampling the Sanctuary's cuisine." He stated, interrupting the conversation between the couple. A loud birdlike screech cut through the air, immediately dominating all other sounds or possible arguements at the time. The roof of Vesanirre burst with color and a lavender blur leapt onto the balcony.

As large as a gryphon and twice as angry Kamotse the Anima faced Vetaras and opened his wings, puffing his feathers and arching his long neck. His beak was sharp to a needlelike point, ready to spear through anything that threatened it. Kamotse was tensed for battle and ready to charge, but he remained close to Thavron as if waiting for his orders. Almost outraged the brown angel stayed the great creature with the back of his hand, glancing apologetically toward Seria and the Imperial Archangel. The arrival of Kamotse would either make or break this confrontation, and if it ended up to be the latter, Thavron would have to get himself and possibly Seria out of deep trouble. Like always.

Seria finally blinked, as a hand gently patted on her shoulder. The tall woman slowly slid out of her chair as the hand withdrew, and Vetaras stepped backwards. Seria's mind was racing, trying to figure out why he still had the ability to use his other two wings, without either direct energy from Lothlomendil, from Aman or even Lothlomendil's temple itself. She slowly placed one leg out from her chair, and then ponderously, with as much grace as possible, strode around to Thavron. Then came a bird, a large one, it almost appeared to want to kill Vetaras, but it didn't when Thavron waved it off. Seria strode around to the other side of him, and took a position slightly behind him. That's when she noted the tattoo. Thavron was an animus, one of the most potent followers of Threnody!?

"You stupid prostitute, giving yourself to any man. Don't give me any of those lies about him being no one to you. I shouldn't have married you in the first place, dog." Came the oddly harsh language from the Imperial. Seria visibly winced at the insult. His eyes twisted to Thavron, and he spit into the roast duck. He muttered some rather harsh language about brown wings in celestial, and this caused Seria to wince even more.

"Don't you dare say that of him! He has more honor, far more, than you ever did! After, at least..."
"You know that made me stronger, you stupid elf! There is nothing wrong with power!"
"Power at such a price. You should have never taken the chance, look what it did to us, to Ismene!"
"Then, wife, you should know that Ismene is in far better care than your neglectful hands could have ever granted!" Vestaras shouted. A single tear dripped down Seria's cheek, believing the comment true. Her fists clenched, and she wished for her weapon. Her hand flicked towards the knife that was supposed to cut Thavron's duck. With a swift tap of the finger at the tip, it flicked into her open hand. Her index finger and thumb latched onto the slender blade. It darted forwards like greased lightning as Seria threw it forwards underhanded. The graceful silver sliced into his unarmored torso, and he simply laughed.

"Oh pain, glorious pain! I haven't felt like this in ages, dog. But... You've betrayed me even further. Prepare to die, wife." Vetaras shouted. By now, the white wings within had heard the exchange. A couple of them leapt to their feet, and they drew their delicate dress sabers. The weapons were flimsy, but they were still sharp. Vetaras looked completely unarmed, and he simply laughed at the display.

"Vetaras! Stop this, leave the poor woman alone and simply divorce her! It'll make everything better!" The apparant leader shouted. Vetaras's palm simply pointed at the men, and he shouted out something odd. Something Seria recognized. His palm glew momentarily, and the entire world went white. Incredible heat washed over Seria, and she felt as though she might burn alive. The light subsided, and her eyes attempted to adjust to the far darker world. Vesanirre was destroyed, most of the stone was melted. Screams tore through the city as a bright bolt of energy flew outwards, and hit the sea. A tower of steam raised into the air immediatly as the water boiled. The bolt had reduced the buildings directly beneath into magma, that was slowly but surely also drifting down to the ocean. Seria gulped, and more tears went down her eyes.

"I'm so sorry to have involved you, Thavron...If you want to run, now's your chance." Seria whispered. Vetaras raised his hand to the air, and a blade formed itself of black mist. Up and down it's blood channel were roses of varying colors, with one spot empty. The one for a blue rose.

"Come, dearest. Your little boyfriend gets to watch you die on you knees, pleading for mercy." Vetaras stated. Seria shook her head, and gave an odd grin, as she watched the knife stuck in his chest.

"No, I would much rather die standing." Seria shouted, as she reached back and grabbed yet another knife.

And so commenced the arguements. Thavron held his ground but said nothing, trying to arrange his thoughts and come up with a plan. "You stupid prostitute, giving yourself to any man. Don't give me any of those lies about him being no one to you. I shouldn't have married you in the first place, dog," the bloodcurdling voice of Vetaras growled. Thavron quickly turned his head towards Seria, who was now standing slightly behind him, and frowned empathetically at her when she winced at the insult. It completely eluded his mind that she had seen his tattoo, the tattoo that had been causing him so much grief in the past few weeks. He turned back towards Vetaras just in time to see him spit in the roast duck that he had begun eating before the rude interruption. A terrible screech came again from Kamotse and he struggled with all of his strength to charge at the Imperial Archangel. It took all of Thavron's strength to keep him from attacking, as well. By now, eating was the least of his worries. "I had already lost my appetite the second I saw you," Thavron retorted, his gaze flicking to the many wings of Vetaras.

The Imperial Archangel had muttered a string of words in Celestial, certain it was either an insult to him or and insult to Seria. Or both. The shout from Seria in reply concluded that it was an insult to the brown angel, but he shrugged it off. He would only be offended by an insult if he could actually understand it. The couple continued arguing back and forth, until a peculiar name came up. "Then, wife, you should know that Ismene is in far better care than your neglectful hands could have ever granted!" Thavron paused. Ismene? He looked over to Seria, expecting some kind of explanation, but recieved none. Thavron's eyes followed the knife projectile thrown by the elven woman, but he winced at its lack of effect. Out of the corner of his eye the brown angel saw the white-wings, their weapons drawn. At first he assumed they were going to try to fight him and Seria, but after their warning to the Imperial Archangel he knew otherwise.

Thavron opened his mouth to say something to Seria, but was quickly interrupted as his vision became completely covered with white. He closed his eyes almost immediately, temporarily blinded, heat filling the air. When the spell subsided, his eyes shot open, blazing with anger. The tips of his wings had been very slightly singed. "I'm so sorry to have involved you, Thavron...If you want to run, now's your chance." A scowl on his face, Thavron snatched Integrity from the side of the table and held it firmly in both hands. "Get on the back of Kamotse," Thavron whispered between his clenched teeth, motioning towards the furious Anima, "get a weapon from somewhere, anywhere. I don't care if you steal one. Make sure the Guard is helping evacuate any survivors of that attack. I'll keep this guy busy until you come back. We'll run once everyone is safe." Quickly turning towards Vetaras Thavron launched his hand forward, roaring the incantation for the Energy Drainage spell. Kamotse opened his beak halfway and shot a long stream of the Enervation spell towards him. The anima turned towards Seria. Thavron held up his spear in a ready position and slashed downward towards the Imperial's chest, not waiting for Vetaras to retaliate from his first spell.

Vetaras was shocked to see the sudden attack of the brown wing. He had always assumed them to be homely, wimply, little creatures that deserved nothing but the heel of his boot. His blade flicked into a defensive position as Thavron's spell took him. A quarter of his magical energy, a quarter that he desperatly needed if he was to do another spell like the earlier one was leeched from him. Then came a bolt of enervation, and he literally shrugged it off. The negative energy wrapped around him, and then sunk into him, almost as if it was a holy spell. His blade flicked horizontally and then upwards, and caught the spear as it traveled downwards.

"Slow, brown." Vetaras said. He glanced to Seria, and suddenly noted she was gone. Just moments ago, the blue haired elf had mounted Kamotse and was pointing out the gate she had entered into. Their voyage was relatively quick atop the big feminine colored bird, although Seria personally favored purple flying hippos but Kamotse would do in case of a lack of purple flying hippos. She threw herself off the bird as it flew over. She landed on the street with a lightning fast roll to mitigate the damage. It still hurt, but not as much as a normal fall. She darted within the guard post, and shouted yet again.

"Get out there, you fools! Your city is under attack, get the civilians out! And give me my weapons!" Seria screamed, in a much unlady like fashion. She kicked off her heels, and then snatched the claws once one of the men produced them. The elf sliced apart the skirt of the dress, taking it from a once highly descent lady's garb to something a prostitute might wear. She stretched her legs, with their new found freedom experimentally, and then rushed out as the guards followed her.

She murmured her incantations as she went, gradually going faster until the world hardly noted her passage. The people were all moving tremendously slow, and she was darting amongst the crowds in moments. Veritas was just coming into sight, as he prepared to mount his own offensive. He glanced to Seria momentarily, and then back to Thavron, and then right back to Seria. His block began to shift, but not quite fast enough. With that, she leapt, using all of her speed to launch her above the railings of Vesanirre.

Both of the nine inch claws were fully extended, as she tackled Vetaras into the ground. Her attacks came lightning fast, with her basically sitting on his torso. They flicked up and down his chest, raking his ribs but not cutting them. Vetaras screamed in pain as the blurred attacks sliced him to pieces, and then he regained his composure. His blade came in horizontally, and Seria hardly noted it in her zealous stream of slices. It slammed into her with tremendous force, slicing into her side, and barely missing her arms. The force of the blow threw Seria off of his chest, and she flew, in what seemed to be the longest time for her thanks to the fact time was slowed. She impacted the railing with the blood curdling noise of wet meat being hit by a sledgehammer. Blood decorated her side, and the world snapped back to normal time as her concentration shattered at the pain. A whimper escaped her lips at the pain, and her breathing intensified.

Slowly she attempted to clamber back to her feet, using the railing as a support. Vestaras, however, leapt almost immediatly back to his feet, a criss cross of slices in his shirt marking out what had happened. He gripped his blade in both hands, and swung it first from near his knees, but raised to Thavron's chest, in hopes of knocking him out of the fight as well.

{Permission was granted to say the effect of my attacks on Vetaras. W00tness.}

Kamotse landed and Thavron smiled weakly at the return of Seria and the anima. He wasn't completely sure if the claws the elf now held were her own or taken from another, nor did he really care at the time. Kamotse scurried up to Seria's position and opened his beak halfway yet again. An orb of white light formed inside, attempting to cast the Heal spell upon the wounded woman. Thavron's eyes were focused on the Imperial Archangel, however. The man's wounds did seem extremely brutal; the brown angel wasn't even sure how he was able to survive cuts like that. Integrity was held at the ready, bracing for an oncoming attack, but the quickness of his enemy's blade caught him offguard. Speeding upward the black blur of a sword sliced straight into Thavron's chest. The impact was so immense the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He flew backward until his back collided with a side railing of the balcony a few meters away.

The sudden collision with the railing made Integrity fly from his hand. Thavron's spine hyperextended and his wings were bruised, possibly sprained. Not to mention a gaping rip in the chest of his Lomedor Guard uniform that oozed blood. Without his chainmail to protect him, Vetaras' sword cut through him with ease. Within moments the brown angel had gone from perfectly healthy to suffering a mortal wound. Thavron stumbled to his feet and retrieved Integrity. His pained gaze flicked to Vetaras, and he growled the incantation of the Karma spell. Upon the Imperial Archangel's already completely raked chest formed a wound of equal size and depth that Thavron now suffered from. The brown angel turned towards Seria and Kamotse. "I think...I think it's time to run."

Below, the Sanctuary was almost completely evacuated. That was the cue for Thavron to issue the command to get the hell out of here. "Seria, you can get on Kamotse's back again. We're flying," he whispered. Raven, who had been knocked off Thavron's shoulder and lay unconscious on the ground for a short time, awoke and alighted atop the brown angel once again. There was some dried blood on the bird. Everyone, it seemed, had suffered some battle wounds during this fight. Thavron turned to Seria and barked, "Go!" He himself leapt into the air along with his familiar, but both were constantly looking back to prepare themselves if the Imperial Archangel were to pursue them.

Seria's side knitted up as the spell took her, but the healing wasn't complete. She stood upright once more, just in time to see Vetaras stab Thavron, and Thavron invoke the Karma spell. The difference was that Vetaras didn't flinch. He simply watched as Seria dashed over to Kamotse and threw herself around the bird as it took off. He chuckled, and stuck a finger into his wound. Seria watched from the corner of her eye, and wondered what could have happened to what had once been her favorite person on Arda.

He withdrew his finger from his wound, and stared idly at his own blood. He gave it a quick lick, and shook his head. Then the wounds simply vanished, as though they had done nothing to him. He was far more powerful than he had been five hundred years ago. This disturbed the elf greatly, and her ears twitched in puzzlement. Maybe it was... She shook her head vigorously, sending blue hair in all directions.

"Ismene...is my daughter. With him. She disappeared nearly five hundred years ago, and that was the last time I saw Vetaras as well. Hah, I thought she had just run away to have her own life till now, and Vetaras had gone on enough long missions, so I was used to him disappearing. Always thinking so innocently, I was such a housewife. You know, I was once a legendary chef before I married him. Heh, over five thousand years of experience will do that for you..." Seria said. She idly reminisced on past missions, then she perked up. Her ears twitched furiously as she thought over the thing, and she clutched the big purple bird closely. She was careful not to cut him with her claws.

"He mentioned something once...that requires the sacrifice of elven blood and the wings of an Imperial Archangel..."[/color=royalblue] Seria said, then she shouted a curse in Quenya that also functioned as a curse in Sindarin. Thus, Thavron was in the loop as well.

[color=royalblue]"And the damn ritual has to take place in a holy place to be defiled on a night where the Lakarine constellation is right above it! I can figure this out...She's still alive. Thavron, you'll help me, right?" Seria inquired. Then roguishly, she shouted out a prize.

"I'll let you date her if you do!