Tears Of The Fall

PROLOGUE

More than three thousand years ago, I was betrayed by the one I loved; the one for whom I forfeited eternity. Beguiled by her innocence and snared by her beauty, I was led into captivity, forced to endure eons of darkness in joyless isolation.

My name was called Havvavhel, the destroying angel. I was believed to be Elion's final creation. In the world below called Midbar, my name became known with infamy, borne of fables told beside firesides at eventide; legends—spun into myth and solemn song.

But beyond the wandering stars was I damned to wander alone, the emptiness of the celestial plane eventually becoming my home. There I spent my time; star systems away from the warmth of heaven. I waited silently in patience for my next assignment from the high court of heaven; my only desire now was to prove my worth to Elion.

But the nights were far too long. Tormented by boredom I would drift into wakeless slumber, arousing lucid dreams of a world that I had mastered; a crowded place where I was no longer a victim of Elion's mistakes.

Then began the days of anarcheon: the thousand year war. Midbar became the battlefront between the forces of order and chaos and my utility increased manifold.

Through it all, though I faltered in the ruminations of my lonely heart, I held onto hope—believing that Elion would save me from myself. But along the way I lost my faith in the everlasting solitude. And I was left to wonder—ever coming undone at the seams.

In the end I gave in, succumbing to the throes of exile; my hope eclipsed by profound sadness. Then at long last, I was commissioned to return to Midbar on heaven's final request; a promise to the king of Antediluvia by Elion, fulfilled in me. On my way down, falling deeper within myself, I offered a solemn prayer in silence:

I have faced the emptiness within, the dark that fastened all my chains. Though I walk this path alone, I refuse to come undone.

So shelter me, for I am lost—and I have given you my all. Shelter me, lest I fall—under the burden of it all. There's no disguise, I see your burning eyes—peering through me as I fight for one last time.

Shelter me; don't let me go—I am with you after all.

Chapter I – A Betrayal

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Like a dream," I solemnly replied as we stood in awe atop the balcony of marble stone, gazing into saturnine skies where two diverse planetary bodies converged in lunar harmony, myriad of leagues beyond the Nian Expanse.

Azaya stood beside me, her immaculate beauty immortalized in starlit mystery. Long auburn curls danced in the stormy ocean breeze, her bronze moon-kissed shoulders escaped the brim of her ashen gown, radiating in the afterglow.

Like destiny she fell into my arms, traversing my hands across her beating chest. Passionately she kissed my forearm as we faced the deep together; the sensation of her embrace ever longed.

"Time has kept its promise," I said softly, "and has brought me home to you again. Many moons have come and gone oceans away from your tender embrace."

"You've missed me many?"

"Like the rain misses the ocean," I answered. "Vacant and unending were the days without you."

Nestled in my arms, she stood swaying sensually in harmony with the waves of the ocean, her beautiful eyes sealed; her abysmal thoughts sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor. I held her close, hoping to bridge the time lost between us—for all the moons she counted in the absence of me.

"The nights were long without you, Havvavhel," she whispered. As she leaned her head backwards, her bronze eyelids peeled unveiling the colors of the Nian Ocean; a surreal fusion of azure and cerulean. Once again, my somber heart surrendered, ensnared by the alluring beauty of her gaze.

She performed a single pivot—now her soft breasts pressed against me; her cool breath ever inviting. With each inhale she pulled me in as the colors began to fade. Her delicate lips tasted of melon and honey; her careless whispers lulling the roaring waves. The days hinder were filled with none but violence and warring; here in the arms of solace, I found refuge.

"Would you like to go inside?" I asked as her lips reluctantly left mine. She lowered her gaze, her left hand tardily descending from my shoulder; her fingers aimlessly tracing over the esoteric markings that formed strange symbols on my chest.

"Not yet," she answered regretfully, drifting into the unknown as she mused over the strange runes; spirited eyes now shadowed by melancholy.

"Why is there mourning in your eyes, my love?" I placed my hand under her chin, gently lifting her head. But overcome by emotion she pulled away, burying her face in the bosom of my chest. The fountains of her laden soul erupted; seething me in streams of agony as I stood confounded, petrified by the sound of her muffled cries.

Dark fears surfaced from beneath the violent waves as my solemn gaze penetrated the waters of the deep. Lurid thoughts began to emerge from my clouded mind, conjured by the anguish in her voice; enabled by her words left unspoken.

Carefully I opened my wings, spreading them around her; forming a shelter from the vile tempest. If only swarthy feathers could mend her fractured soul, I thought. Though she trusted in my embrace, it felt as though we were standing oceans apart; miles of secrets separating.

I brushed my fingers through her hair, consoling her with all that I could. Her heavy sobbing had abated now; the only sound persisting apart from the brooding waves was the rivaled murmurs of anxious hearts. Eventually her soft voice escaped her trembling lips.

"Of all the woes I've known, the abandoning of my mother followed by her untimely death; even my exile from Esoteria, or the years of solitude I endured on the path of anarchy—here in this moment, sorrow overtakes me like never before."

Finding the courage to lift her head, she searched deep within my somber soul, and I into hers.

"Guilt, regret—they mask the colors in your eyes. Your heart—it beats in sadness." I gently stroked her tan cheek, carefully smearing a solitary tear. "Tell me what's wrong." But she shook her head in reply; affrighted.

"If I tell it all—will you ever forgive me?" Her lips trembled as lucid tears voyaged past them, plummeting into an abysmal void of self-loathing and shame—a boundless pit; the everlasting abode of her silhouetted mistakes.

She lowered her gaze again, avoiding my perusing eyes. Vulnerability snared her heart, rendering her a prisoner of discretion. And I was left to brave the unknown, desperately hoping that she would bare her burdened soul.

"You are all I have, Azaya; I love you with everything I am. There is no thing I will not forgive," I promised. Under the shadow of my wings she waited, giving ear to faithful words; trying them in the iniquitous fires of betrayal.

"I have to leave, Havvavhel, alone—without you." Her tone had suddenly changed; now sober and strong. "There is no other path for me." She brushed through the shadowy feathers of my wings, forsaking my dark embrace.

"I don't understand. Where are you going?" Confounded I lurched towards the maiden as my wings recoiled; her elegant bare feet drawing closer to the edge now.

"I go to Esoteria," she answered discreetly, her blue eyes turning grey in the wasteful moonlight. I glinted out into the ocean, searching for an answer in the nothing, thrown by her resolve as she stood calm; her rueful gaze decrying hope itself.

"Azaya, I am stricken by the thought of losing you. Please—do not forsake me." I folded both arms across my chest, surveying the dark panorama in a moment of reminiscence, hoping to decode an answer despite her vilifying prudence.

"Why do you have to leave, Azaya?" She flinched at the tone of my voice, startled by the frustration on which it was borne.

Reluctantly she walked over to me, breathing in the cold air of the briny deep; fortifying her emotions as truth moored on the shores of confession.

"My life has been an undying devotion to the chaos-flame, ever I were a child. I forfeited my autonomy years ago when I embraced anarchism, pledging allegiance to the order of chaos." She placed each hand on adjacent shoulders, traversing her arms defensively, bowing her head therein.

"To stay here with you—is all I truly wanted. But there is no escaping what is to come. It has been destined by unhallowed providence." She scoffed.

"If you stay, Azaya, no power on Midbar can take you away from me. Please—I am lost to dread alone without you."

"I was naive to think that you could save me, Havvavhel; that somehow you could free me from this. I was mistaken—willfully blinded by love. . . My soul cannot be saved.

"After morning comes, when the sun takes its place in the midday sky," solemnity possessed her tone, "Esoteria will fall. And when the black fires rise, I will revel in the midst of the flames—among the floating embers.

"Only ashes will remain, and the bane of Midbar will be remembered nevermore." She took the time to catch her breath. "This is my final screed—for vengeance is the inception of justice." She sighed with sorrow.

"Azaya, there is something you should know; about Esoteria—about your father," I detoured hoping to dissuade her convictions.

"I know—he is the king of Esoteria." She scoffed in disgust. "Therein lay my woes, borne of bad blood." With her face turned towards the evanescent waves, she mooned as she bit her lower lip.

"I was abandoned in the Harshlands and left for dead; a secret decree sent forth to save the throne from impending disgrace. It was an effort by the king to hide the bastard princess from the eyes of Esoteria.

"My mother: the king's mistress, was executed on the outskirts of Esoteria under the penalty of perjury. That was her reward for saving my life—for secretly offering me to the order of chaos.

"I would give everything to forsake this end, Havvavhel. Please forgive me, but I can't forgive him now." She covered vengeful eyes with hands of reprisal, concealing the hate trapped inside.

"If you're going to do this, then I will go with you. And if you die, then I will die with you," I solemnly pledged.

"No—you won't." Her soft voice broke from behind her cover as she stood motionless, stricken by the pangs of heartache. I lowered my head, harboring confusion; searching through a vivid sea of memories; seeking to make sense of it all.

"You don't have to do this, Azaya," I protested emotionally spent. Her quiet sobs emanated once more in the wake of my despair. "I won't let you go, Azaya—I won't!"

"It is too late," she cried.

"It is not too late. We can forge our own path beneath these skies—just stay here with me—"

"Oh, but it is too late, destroying angel," a malevolent and eerily familiar voice intruded from within the starlit atrium. Without forethought, I left Azaya standing on the balcony; marching into the open room to meet the adversary.

He stood motionless upon a large stone disk in the center of the room, shrouded in a drab, cloth hood; his form mystified in the augmented moonlight bleeding through a translucent caisson in the ceiling.

"The hour is past for desperate appeals, Havvavhel," the hooded figure lectured as I presented myself before him in the luminescence. "The desolation of the allied kingdoms is nigh; the age of famine has come."

"What makes you believe that I won't make this place your final grave, Kabayo?" I threatened stretching forth my right hand, synthesizing a dark sword therein. "I won't let you take her away from me."

"You do not have a choice, fallen—keeper of the balance." A wicked smile emerged from beneath his dusky hood; his wan visage ever mystified in shadow. "You have been a mere pawn in the hand of the artificers of chaos, Havvavhel.

"From the advent of your fall, to your hand in the desolation of Pithriom, even unto your covenant with my invaluable gemstone, Azaya; it was all carefully orchestrated—even up till this very moment. Esoteria will be erased by the arbiter of the chaos-flame; it is already decided.

"Moreover, your beloved city Antediluvia will fall by the wrath of the withering spirit—along with all the kingdoms that trusted in the hand of Elion. And from the fallout an empire shall ascend into the heavens on the wings of chaos, obscuring the light evermore; rendering Midbar the abode of darkness for all eternity."

"I have done all that was required of me despite my hesitation," I protested. "I have asked for nothing in return. My rightful reward is Azaya."

"Your reward is to be a prisoner of the order until the end of time!" he sneered, foaming at the mouth; fiendish eyes glaring from below the silver-lined brim of his hood.

"I should have killed you a long time ago, pillarist." I lifted a somber gaze. "But this time I won't forbear."

Before the mystic could utter a response, his breath was snuffed out by an unforgiving mist conjured from my hands. There he hung, suspended above ground, brooding profanities as his wretched life began to fade.

"Even if you take this life, morbid angel—even if you shatter this hollow soul—you will never have her!"

Incensed by his captious maundering and the hopelessness that with it was borne, I followed through with my fatal promise, violently burying my blade in the center of his chest without, piercing through fetid blood and brawn.

In the dreamy silence his lifeless body hung; an aerial fountain of blood, pouring into the esoteric carvings of the stone disk in the ground. As tortuous streams of vermillion formed arcane symbols in the grooves of the giant circle, I discerned Azaya's footsteps venturing past the second threshold before coming to a sudden halt.

"Do you see now my dear, Azaya?" Kabayo coughed before endless wheezing ensued. "There is—a second heartbeat—after death!" The cadaverous pilgrim remained suspended in midair; the butt of my blade still protruding from his chest.

Enraged by the unrivaled obstinacy of Azaya's master, I elevated my right hand, ruthlessly driving the animated corpse across the room. His body violently collided with the northern wall; my massive blade causing his chest cavity to cave in completely.

As my sword disengaged, he fell to the floor, groveling in defeat and heaving incessantly.

Suddenly from nothing, unworldly vibrations began to emanate, resonating throughout the atrium, warping the fabric of the corporeal world; obscuring even the light from above.

"The eternal symmetry of order and chaos, how is this possible?" I maundered in bewilderment.

"Welcome to the edge of chaos, Havvavhel; your everlasting abode." Maniacal laughter erupted from the dark mystic before the argent vibrations now pervading the atmosphere began distorting the dark sound; bending his diabolic intonations.

With eyes of confusion, I witnessed the haunting regeneration of his deformed body, once wounded and broken. Finally Azaya came and stood beside him, her dejected visage painted with the sullen colors of betrayal.

"Tell him what you've done, Azaya," Kabayo commanded as he stood beside my wife.

"Please—don't," she pleaded casting a trepid glance at her master as he drew his black hood, concealing his bloodless face once more.

"What is done is done, my child. Embrace the path of apatheia now—even as I have taught you, and let regret die here." He turned towards me now, menacing eyes reaming through my feigned defenses; unearthing my darkest fears.

"Are you alarmed, Havvavhel?" he taunted as he quickly approached. Vexed, I stretched forth my hand again, violently apprehending him by the force of my chaokinesis, but he withstood the gravity of my power as I moiled to crush his heart.

"Oh angel of destruction, can you not discern that you attempt to tromp a god?" he railed. With groans of agony the rogue lurched towards me, rigorously fighting against my dark magnetism.

"For all that you have razed, for all those who revere you as a prodigious god, oh angel of death—I am become your victor!"

"You cannot defeat me. I will make this temple your grave!" I retorted.

"It already is, you sluggard. And I already have."

In that moment I broke his diabolic defenses, manifesting a greater sword in my right hand, tearing through the hindering vibrations in the air as my assault unfolded. Narrowly escaping the madness, he fled past the threshold, diving into open water. But as I gave chase, I collided with an otherworldly barrier, preventing me from leaving the atrium. And I was left astonished.

"The pattern on your breast is the enigmatic symbol of the chaos wheel," he uttered as he began his ascension from the deep. "It is the formula for building a simulation of the chaotic balance; a prison between order and chaos. You are trapped here for all of eternity—even as the fourfold pendulum swings—outlining all the paths of chaos.

"I would prefer that this was all my doing. Know that I am but a humble emissary of chaos. The true artificers are the four archetypes themselves, and soon they will inherit all of Midbar." He alighted upon the balcony, drenched in the tears of the ocean, displaying large ravenous wings.

"Nevertheless, this is my consolation—for all that you have taken from me." His tone was borne of hatred. "Behold me now, Havvahel, for I am the dark pillager of hope—I am your reckoning." His wicked gaze pierced right through me as he stood in the glory of the moons, casting shadows on my world. And I fell to my knees; defeated.

"Forgive me, my love," Azaya whispered as she appeared beside him on the far side of the chaos field; her sorrowful eyes beholding mine. "Nothing could have changed this end—please believe me, I've tried."

"Save your empty words, Azaya. They have lost their meaning."

"Goodbye then, Havvavhel." And with her in his arms they flew away.

Far across the emptiness they journeyed the night, vanishing beyond the nothing. And I was left in the place that I had longed to call home; abandoned forevermore.

Chapter II - Fallen

Into the dawning ether on fallen wings I fled, my heart beclouded by an insufferable sense of foreboding. It was seven months before Azaya's betrayal in the isles of Nivmir; the very day that I first met her. The dark twilit tapestry hung across the great expanse romanticizing a portrayal of smoke and fire.

Hope was fading fast beneath the saturnine skies of Midbar. The heavenly court of Elion had aforetime decreed that no grace would be measured to the fallen; only condemnation. Yet I fell for her, heedless of the temporality of a mortal life and of the fleeting fealty of their kind.

Here below, countless worlds away from home, radiant memories of eternity converged into evanescent flashes of starless, abysmal resentment; all that was pure now tattered and jaded.

Rumors of a rewarding existence far away from holy circumscription had made prodigals of lustful angelic souls. Even in the heavenly sanctum, the conversations were borne of envy; their blasphemous queries unending.

"Why should mortal man forged from the mire, volatile and frail exult in pleasures forbidden to those his superiors?" I recalled.

Insatiable eyes were ever open to the entrancing temptations below; the maidens that beckoned to the heavens, unveiled beside the crystal waters of Meridia, dancing in the fountains of Epistolaria and upon the rooftops of Midbar.

Some would rather choose death than to face forever alone. But death was not afforded to the empyreans; angels of the ninth echelon. Their condescension therefore was inevitable.

In those days long gone, the clouds became pillars of smoke. The stars above collided, creating celestial cataclysms, gendering supernal storms, raining fire from above in the form of godlike beings; scorching Midbar below.

I was charged with ending the angelic insurrection; a divine edict far too burdensome for one to bear alone. Nevertheless, with wrath borne of heavenly decree, I littered the prisons of the lower world with my fallen comrades; binding them all in the darkness with the seals of chaos.

But amongst the sapient and simple men alike, pernicious tales of the dethroning of Elion by Anarchiel pervaded, carried throughout Midbar on serpentine tongues and in the secrets of the wind.

Total dominion loomed over baleful horizons as angels continued to fall. Among the inhabitants of Midbar, the hope for salvation began to fade. The kingdom of Pithriom had become the abode of the fallen; a city of devils and a dread to all of Midbar.

But desolation had been pronounced against that kingdom and I alone was burdened to lead the ancient city of Antediluvia into a final battle against them.

It was there in the great city where I first saw her: Azaya, a prisoner of Antediluvia. When the dust had settled, the kingdom of Pithriom was rendered desolate and the remnants of their ruin lingered over the western realm; a perpetual reminder of judgment.

But instead of returning to Antediluvia, I fled eastbound as the day star began to rise, soaring across the Sea of Min, pursuing a burning light flickering in the distance. Finally I alighted upon the plateaus of Eramos in the heart of the desert. And in the somber distance she was found, aimlessly wandering through the twilit sands, immersed in dark flames; incandescent.

From the heights of the rocky summit I stood marveling at the flare-mantled maiden when suddenly she collapsed. In silence I looked on as men garbed in hooded robes emerged from behind stone pillars, quickly retrieving the damsel before vanishing over the dusty mountains.

All of a sudden, another burning light appeared in the sullen sky, approaching fast. A dampened boom was heard at the point of impact, followed by a howling blast as a billowing cloud of sand washed over the desert.

After acknowledging the fall, I refocused on my pursuit, jetting across the desert; sailing past the peculiar assemblage of stone pillars. Over the dusty mountain, a vast city unfurled, nestled in the sandy vale. And I watched as they escorted the maiden through a giant iron gate.

"Oh Havvavhel, how the treasures of Midbar have subverted your soul," a mighty voice uttered hinder. Turning about, my gaze fell upon the marvelous entity, an angelic judge of the high courts of Elion. His eyes were a translucent gold, even as his flowing hair and mighty beard.

"I beheld your fall from heaven—I watched as you passed through the dark veil, yet you bear no markings upon you." I synthesized my blade in an instant. "Are you sent by him to arrest me?" I asked lifting cautious eyes in search of his garrison.

"No, I am not." He cast a sinister glance over to the city in the sand, the rising sun magnifying the beauty of his eyes. "I am come to destroy this city; to bury it forever beneath these sands."

"What have they done?"

"Conspiracy against heaven is the charge—desolation, the judgment." He turned towards the sun-kissed city now. "Behold the wrath of Elio—"

My dark sword connected with is jaw, hurling him across the desert.

"I cannot let you do this! Not yet," I said as the sole of my right foot alighted upon his chest midflight while he toured across the dusty skies, recovering from my assault.

"I will stop at nothing until Elion's will is accomplished," he promised, causing me to strike him down from the air in rage.

"I will not allow it!" As the words escaped my lips, a chaotic vortex appeared in the sand beneath him, viciously spiraling downward as I began to tear a hole in the fabric of Midbar, conjuring an obsidian gate; a doorway to the lower world.

"You've spared the angels worthy of this wretched fate, but without hesitation, you condemn the innocent," he shouted as the dark spiral began dragging him beneath.

"There is no proof of your innocence, only empty words." He scoffed in reply. I swooped down, grabbing the locks of his hair as his maundering ensued.

"As you fall further away from heaven's grace—with every mortal breath; remember me, and the woes that you have chosen. The end is nigh, Havvavhel; the throes of Midbar await your cries."

"Goodbye, Gremaiah." I looked on in sorrow as the darkness pulled him under and he vanished into the abyss.

Through the tan, coarse-grained sand my fated footsteps tread, bound towards the city in the dust. With wings retracted, I appeared as a man in the shadow of the colossal curtain wall; one of the four that made the mystic city a fortress.

"Outsiders are not welcomed here, fallen one," a hooded man orated from the crown of the northern flanking tower, beside the gatehouse. "You may only enter as our prisoner." And as his words were carried in the wind, a legion of archers appeared atop the towering walls, peering down on me with dark arrows ready, in unison.

Suddenly, loud clanking breached the tension as giant metal gears began laboriously toiling, rolling away the enormous gate, revealing five shrouded soldiers standing guard. Into the large portcullis I ventured, being ushered into darkness as a veil was immediately thrown over my head, and shackles fastened to my hands and feet by callous hands.

"We beheld your descent only moments ago," their captain said. What is it you seek behind these walls, maidens?"

"It was another that your eyes perceived; a judge of the sanctum. He was sent from above to destroy this city. I overturned that edict by burying him beneath the sands."

"And your—proof of this?" he asked in distrust.

"If you so desire proof, then remove these fetters—and I will drag your feeble soul to the place where he now mourns," I solemnly replied. The men erupted in spirited laughter, clapping their hands; amused by my threatening words.

"I like him, he has heart," said another, "or is it ignorance?"

"What is your name, mysterious one, and what do you seek?" the leader asked resuming his perusing.

"I am called the dark one." I veiled my answer with discretion, mindful of the ill fame that with it was borne.

"Keep your silence then, dark angel; we are not people untried in the wiles of the fallen. Sobriquets and vague language will only serve as a prelude to your inevitable obeisance."

"Do you have—proof of that?" I mocked.

"Take him to the bastille." He scoffed. "Send scouts into the desert to see if there be any merit to his words." If not, dark angel, know that there are more enticing methods to bring truth to your lips."

As two rugged soldiers arrested me, my ears were inclined to a large metal door in the ground being heaved open by chains. Still blinded, I was led down an endless flight of stairs, deep into a subterranean prison. The air was thin here and a fetid odor lashed out in fury, bringing tears to the soldier's eyes as they hastened past bestial growls and serpentine shrills.

"You should not have come here, fallen one; you'll never leave this place," an old prisoner said as we journeyed down a narrow corridor.

"What is this place?" I asked as the cloth covering was violently lifted from my eyes.

"This is the Pit of Turiah; the place where fallen offspring come to die—and where mortal men become gods."

"So this is Turiah," I said in retrospect, gaping down into bottomless darkness.

"You've heard of its legend?"

"The infamy of it has been echoed in the chambers of heaven—the 'Odium of Turiah,' they say." I scoffed. "This is why your city is under judgment."

"Save your forebodings, fallen angel; destruction is far from us. Elion himself would forbid it," he boasted as I was ushered into a small prison cell; confused by his beliefs.

Caged inside the small room I was left to wait in darkness. The walls stood close, preventing me from lying down. I sat on the stone ground absorbing the harrowing shrieks of faceless voices echoing in the distant shadows; creatures born of fallen blood.

Here below, there was neither night nor day; only gross darkness. Why did I allow myself to endure this? I pondered growing weary of waiting for the soldiers to return. Here I am alone, still I feel comforted; away from heavens eyes.

Maybe it's not too late for me to return. I was misguided in sparing my brothers from judgment. Surely there is absolution for me—if only I could find the strength to follow through. Oh how I am straightened and falling from grace.

And why does my heart succumb to her tender flame? Why can't I ignore the desire to know her name—to hear her words; to feel the warmth of her embrace? Have I fallen so far that I cannot escape these devices? I suffered myself in anguish passing my time in sorrow.

With eyes closed I rose to my feet, breaking both fetters. This guilt overwhelms me. But I will not succumb to this! I swore an oath unto myself, forsaking the inborne impulse to swear by Elion; a fault of my unstable mind.

In that moment, a flame appeared in the dreary distance, inciting uproar among the prisoners as it zoomed past fiendish captives and nameless things; restless spirits of the unseen world. Finally a guard, I thought plotting to take him captive in my disquietude.

But as I tore the cell gate from callous walls, tossing it aside, the startled gasp of a maiden escaped the dim lit hall amidst the clattering noises and harrowing cries. Suddenly the torch came to a lurching crawl in the distance as the ardent flame granted revelation.

I stood at the edge of the lightless hall vestured in darkness. Her eyes could not yet perceive me, but I saw her—and my heart became as stone. Her beautiful eyes were a misty cerulean blue, her bronze skin glowing in the soft light of the flame as if it were kissed by the sun.

"This is no place for you, princess," I said softly, careful not to startle her. She lurched towards me, her hand engulfed in fire, lighting the way.

"I came here just to find you." She glinted down into the abyss in the center of the prison. "I don't understand, why would you allow them to bring you here—to this place?"

"Tell me—what is your name?" I asked, evading her question.

"My name is Azaya." She blushed before flinching at the sound of an earsplitting shrill that shattered the moment as it ascended from the bottomless pit. "Something wicked is coming. Shadow me; I can lead you out."

Through the blackened corridors we made our escape, pestered by malevolent shadows imprisoned by the witching hands of men. As we ascended a tortuous concrete stairwell, the grating screeches of the chaosfiend erupted behind us followed by the slithering hushes of its crawl.

"What is that?" shouted Azaya as we climbed.

"It's the cry of a lokrien. They are the dream eaters of the lower world; they prevent awakened souls from ascending. I've never seen one on Midbar before."

"A lokrien, that doesn't sound frightening at all. Some believe that the pit behind us leads into the underworld. Perhaps it—crawled out."

"I know it did," I said as we journeyed through the dark.

She was panting incessantly now. "The air—is so thin here." She gasped, taking one last breath before collapsing, falling through a breach in the landing.

The maiden crashed unto the stairs below; comatose. Alighting beside the damsel, I took her in my arms, spreading giant wings in the air when suddenly the fiend appeared before me in poised flight; beady eyes beholding the sleeping girl; waiting for her soul.

"You cannot have her!" I stretched forth my right hand. The giant worm wriggled and contorted before me in agony, showing its endless rows of jagged teeth as I subdued it there; stealing its life in my fury.

Overcome by my power, it began its lifeless descent back into the chaosvale. As it fell in morbid silence, I ascended with Azaya in my arms, tearing a gaping hole through the upper surface of the prison, finally bursting unto a dusty courtyard in the presence of many startled witnesses.

"Please, I know not how to wake her," I pleaded in fearful desperation; dreading her life to fade. Without warning dark flames engulfed the maiden as she hung in my hands. And in that moment, the guards emerged from the passage ways, breaking through the midnight crowds.

"He has stolen the arbiter of the chaos flame!" one of the mighty troops sounded, causing the archers atop the surrounding battlements to take aim. "Erase him!" he commanded as I voiced my appeal in vain.

As the civilians scampered to safety, I hunkered down in defense, keeping Azaya close while she burned. My somber wings formed a fortress as the missiles of Turiah rained down upon us beneath the black desert sky.

"How is this possible?" I muttered in confusion rising to sturdy feet again as the first assault resolved and I emerged wounded; broken arrows still caught in the holes that they made in my wings.

"This time, we bathe the sand with angel's blood!" The captain of the troop sounded; his coarse voice shadowed by the swift formation of his subordinates.

"Please, let me explain."

"Save your pitiful bleating, fallen one; here you won't find kindness."

As his callous words echoed into the ether, hatred unparalleled began its ascension within my darkened mind. I surveyed the hostile landscape; the chaotic murmurs of my anxious heart ever increasing. With unforgiving eyes I censured them all: wretched and vile—undeserving of life.

The cataracts of bedlam eclipsed my eyes as I entered into a maddened state. My elevated hand became the wellspring of death as a dark mist radiated from my palm, violently separating the souls of my adversaries from their mortal vessels.

An eerie chorus of anguish ensued as the ghosts of the vanquished were dragged below by an unworldly force. Suddenly the heartrending cries of a mother erupted, shattering the funereal silence.

Under hopeless skies she mourned in the distance, cradling a young boy in trembling arms; his innocent life snuffed out. I beheld her grief with thoughts of remorse as I became the guilty. Suddenly the ground beneath me began to quake as the cavalry of Turiah descended on the massacre.

In that moment Azaya awoke; the torrid flame that enveloped her growing more fervent now. Slowly, she climbed down from my arms, only to stand motionless before me like an idle flame.

I called out to her, but she did not answer; her mind seemingly lost in the blaze. Without warning, the fires expanded sending a heatwave through the atmosphere. Reluctantly, I tried to quench the flames with my power, but the fires only raged in response.

"She is the arbiter of the chaos-flame, Havvavhel," the King of Turiah shouted as he approached on his mighty steed. "The art of chaokinesis will only fuel her fire." He dismounted now, cautiously approaching the burning damsel.

"You've robbed my men of their futures. You've made widows of faithful women and rendered their children fatherless." He turned to the weeping woman in the distance. "You've even robbed Turiah of innocent life. Is this what the sword of Elion has become, a cold-hearted murderer?"

"It was not my will." I solemnly answered.

"You may not recognize me Havvavhel, but I was there when you came to Antediluvia. She was also there." He reached into his armor below his vesture and pulled out a crystal pendant. "This is the shepherd's stone. It can save her from this path of destruction.

"But I will only do so—if you leave," he bargained. Return to the one who made you and find absolution; this is my only request. As for Azaya: she is my prisoner. I will keep her from fading."

Reluctantly, I obliged, only turning to behold Azaya one final time. With broken wings, I ascended into the night.

Chapter III - Indecision

Into the distant mountains I fled, miles away from the one I loved. There in the miry enclave, beside the misty waters of a placid lake my heart found a moment to rest.

Heaven seemed so far away now, like a whisper lost in the wind. Under the water I waited as the advent sun conquered the night; its amber rays bleeding through the surface, mystifying the deep.

Guilty of betrayal, I emerged from the lake; my penitent heart longing to find Elion's grace. Here I vowed to leave the memory of Azaya behind. Offering a voiceless petition to sullen skies I prayed:

Guilt takes hold, waiting for the fall. Give me hope—or nothing at all.

"Can I come away with you?" the soft voice of a maiden escaped the shadows as tetrad wings lifted me into the sky; heavenbound. Like an eagle poised in midflight, I searched the silence below. There she was, standing under the shadow of the trees, beautifully disrobed; the gravity of her body pulling me downward.

"If you could, I would have taken you with me."

"You left me behind," she said softly. "I hoped you'd stay. Now I'm feeling so empty—I'm sorry, I couldn't control the fire." Ebon curls consoled her graceful neck as she hid her pretty visage, now fallen.

"I didn't want to leave—but I have to." I set down before the damsel, beholding her sadness.

"Are you seeking redemption?" she perused lifting regretful eyes to mine. "I've heard—that there is none for the fallen. But if you ever return, I will be here waiting."

"How did you find me?" I diverged. But she answered nothing.

"I made a few mistakes. I'm hoping it's not too late." I finally answered.

"I don't understand. You wasted Pithriom, wasn't that your mission?"

"Yes, in part." I sighed heavily. "I was also instructed to escort my brothers with their legions into the lower world. But instead—I spared them."

"That's—so heavy," she remarked. "But what did you accomplish by erasing Pithriom; what was it all for?" She weighed the heavenly edict in the balance, preparing to air her grievances.

"I restored strength to Antedeluvia; giving them hope and fostering their resurgence."

"Oh Antedeluvia," she said mockingly. "Is the ancient city going to restore order to Midbar? Now that the living monuments of Pithriom have fallen and all the ravenous birds have fled; will justice triumph in the halls of the kings of Midbar?

"Or will they be wholly consumed by chaos like those their allies?" She was furious now, her silken voice echoing among the moody hills. "There is no hope in Antediluvia.

"I have witnessed the dark secrets that cast shadows behind those walls. If anyone, Antediluvia should have been erased. Yet heaven continues to watch with pitiless indifference as darkness endures in the kingdoms of light." She sighed.

"I know you're not to blame, Havvavhel. Even the strongest lose faith in this world—that we've made."

"It was my mistake, Azaya. I am responsible; not heaven."

"You arrived at Turiah a prisoner of wretched men. What am I, a broken soul left to think of the strength of heaven, not that it has failed?"

She paused, catching her breath; traversing both hands across her naked breasts. "Will Elion split the skies above and come down when it all falls apart? Will he free the oppressed; will he restore order to this fallen world?" She drew closer now, her eyes filled with hurt. "Will he rescue me?

"Or will he also be brought down to the dust and be led away in chains?" I stood captivated as she entered my shadow. "I want you to stay, Havvavhel."

She laid her head upon my chest waiting to be consoled, but I kept my hands from temptation; my heart fraught with fear. Startled by a rustling noise in the grass she turned about, scanning the forage with diligent eyes. Eventually a raven emerged from the hedges, immediately taking flight.

My eyes then fell upon Azaya again. Along her spinal column I saw esoteric writings, runes too arcane to be translated. She returned to me, searching my curious eyes.

"Can you decode its meaning?" she inquired without hesitation. She placed her right hand on my chest, lightly tracing her fingers over the symbols thereupon as she mused. "The language is the same, yes?"

"Yes."

"Were these written by the hand of Elion, or by another?"

Her question was discomfiting. I was well aware that the esoteric markings were a feature of the fall. By this truism I was snared.

Mythrah, my brother had taunted me during our fray, insinuating that heaven had forsaken me; his provocations still lingering in my ear.

"You don't know?" she persisted.

"There is a theory of the authors of the markings, yes. I prefer not to speak of them." I turned towards the lake before lifting my head to the azure skies.

"I know that your heart is with home, Havvavhel," she laid her hand upon my arm, "but perhaps Elion has purpose for you here, on Midbar."

"I cannot stay, Azaya. Forgive me."

"You don't understand. I—I need you to stay." Her tears began to fall. "Please." With hands of sorrow she veiled her eyes, drowning in despair. "I've lost the will to fight. Please—just stay here with me."

"Azaya, I wish that I could stop your tears from falling down. It hurts me to leave—but this is my last chance—my only chance. I must untether this heart from everything—I love—if I am to find redemption. Please understand."

"Are you saying 'love'—because you love me?"

"I am saying nothing—at all." My answer was cold; cold enough to put out her flame.

She lifted teary eyes to the heavens, fortifying her final resolve. And with fated feet in eerie silence, she descended into the misty waters, slowly disappearing beneath the opaque.

Without a second thought, my wings tore through the blankets of heaven as I soared high above Midbar. Into the vast expanse of the gaseous nebulae I wandered, searching amongst the constellation of Miron for heaven's gate; the portal to home.

"Has heaven forsaken you, Havvavhel." Unhallowed shrills emerged from a planetary apparition far beyond the blinding stars; a place where light did not exist.

"Show yourself, or keep your silence."

"If I showed myself, still your eyes would not perceive me."

"Who are you?"

"I am the darkness that veils the heavens from the eyes of men. I am the end of all that Elion has made. I am the counterbalance—of order. I am Death."

"You are an archetype of chaos," I answered, "a contingent of the fall; nothing more than a vile manifestation of Elion's regret."

"His regrets are endless—even as I," the entity retorted.

"You are beneath me," I grunted peering into the abyss as violent shadows spiraled in the dark. Facing the chaos, I looked on in awe as the dark vortex began to morph into a discernable winged image.

"You are but a fallen angel seeking redemption, Havvavhel; a castaway swimming against the maelstrom of love. I watched you fall. You chose to save her from death—and your heart became her home.

"You are torn between twain; the austere rudiments of heaven and your ardent love for the arbiter of the chaos-flame. Why return to an existence of self-loathing and unending resentment?"

"If I don't return to heaven, then my fate would be sealed here below for all eternity."

"Your fate has already been decided," he responded, his diabolic grating violently distorting the nothing. "She trusts you to save her. Are you prepared to face eternity alone, forever haunted by her ghost? Will you let her drown in the waters of the lake, swallowed up by rejection—where her motionless body now lies?

"She wouldn't!" I said in doubt. But there was only dark silence.

"She will die in the water," the entity finally answered. "I only linger to reclaim her soul as it ventures past the veil—for your sake. But say the words and I will free her from the throes of Midbar, and embrace her in the darkness evermore."

CHAPTER IV Haven Wings

Out of the black waters of the lake was her lifeless body drawn. With trembling lips I brought the breath of life to the maiden, carefully pumping her chest with hands of uncertainty, desperately hoping she would come alive again.

At the edge of fate when all had failed, I knelt down beside her, offering the last of my hope.

"Azaya, please come back to me; I promise to never leave again. There is a future for us, just please—wake up." Stygian tears stained my cheek as I looked on helplessly, stricken by the thought of losing her now.

Each fleeting moment plundered my hope; faithless eyes watching as she slept. Suddenly she began to cough, fighting to breathe through the water inside her lungs.

"He said—you would come." She coughed.

"Who did?" My hands retracted slowly as she arose and sat upright.

"Elion did. He said that this is the path our feet must tread; the road that we have chosen." She placed cold hands against my tensed jaw as I lowered my head; dispirited.

"I don't hear his voice anymore." I mourned, laden with regret. "I knew that I had fallen, deceiving myself all the while."

"I will be here for you, Havvavhel—until forever ends. This is my promise." She comforted me with words of solace. "It matters not whether you feel the same. I have felt nothing but love for you ever since Antediluvia."

She knelt before me now, lovingly gazing into my troubled eyes, her pleasant words lingering in the summer air; calming the violent storm within me. She eased her arms around my neck, consoling me in her everlasting embrace. In that moment, my heart surrendered.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked as my wings became her haven.

"Not anymore," she cried.

Serene skies turned to grey as I flew across the Mayim Ocean with Azaya nestled in my arms. She took a final glance, beaming on my shoulder; leaving all her tears behind. Through tempestuous winds and raging storms we journeyed, eventually alighting upon a mountain beyond the echoes of Esoteria.

"Shall we call this place our home?" She inquired as her bare feet set down upon the grass. She began to strut towards the edge carelessly twirling in the praises of the wind, relishing in the ambience of the mountains and the tranquility that emanated from a paradise preserved.

"Be careful, Azaya—you might fall." I lurched towards the damsel as she gracefully pirouetted on the edge of her mortal life.

"We all fall, my love," she whispered. And casting a solemn glance at me, she lighted over the edge, plummeting to the watery escape below. Without a second thought I lunged over the cliff, swooping down after her as she fell; saving the damsel from death.

"Where did I go wrong?" I whispered consoling her in spite of my uneasy heart.

"You didn't, Havvavhel. I just need you to forgive yourself—for leaving, and to know that—you are my savior."

Humbled by her words, I lowered my gaze as we hovered over the ocean. She lifted my head, pressing soft lips against mine, and I fell helplessly into the depths of her love.

"I want nothing more than to be yours forever," she confessed kissing me softly once more. The shady hills beheld our communion as I claimed her as my wife, boasting of our union beneath sullen skies.

"Will you always love me like this?" she asked; her cool breath blowing against my lips.

"I will."

"Even when my beauty is faded and gone?" she persisted.

"Even then, Azaya; until forever ends." Tears of joy streamed down her face, wedding her bronze skin in a union of unholy matrimony.

As dark skies chased the light away, Azaya fell asleep in my arms. I stayed awake to watch her dream, enamored with her cherubic slumber as we camped on the edge of nowhere. All was calm here except my sleepless mind; ever afflicted by dark memories of yesterday.

My sable wings kept her warm, her subtle sighs ever pulling me closer as I held her tightly; treasured and safe. I kissed her shoulders repeatedly causing her to smile in her sleep.

But beyond the veil of Midbar, in the starlit wonder of the nebulous expanse, a flickering light demanded my gaze.

"What is it my love?" Azaya awoke. "Your soul is restless." She took my hand in hers, laying my forearm across her breasts.

"They've found us." I scowled in anger, springing into the air with Azaya in my arms, narrowly escaping the thunderous arrival of an otherworldly entity.

His magnificent eyes were a scintillate fusion of sapphire and diamond, encircled by a citrine ring like fire; his visage as marble stone. Around him revolved three colossal amber rings, looped in geocentric harmony; all emitting a whirring sound as he stood idle in their midst.

"Who is he?" Azaya whispered in fear.

"Sublunary treasures have snared your heart, Havvavhel," he uttered; his tone borne of regret. "You were once a favorite amongst the angels of the welkin void. I suffer to witness the advent of your ruin. Your choices have altered the trajectory of Midbar forever. Even I am now blinded from what lies hereafter."

"My burden was too heavy, Aeaon—you saw me bend beneath the weight."

"I also watched you relent at the sight of her, in the courts of Antediluvia—even till now." He folded ancient arms; his leer unforgiving. "Feigned words only convey the depth of your depravity, Havvavhel. You had a choice to return and chose not to.

"You were an outcast among the empyreans by virtue of your chaotic ontology. Your fealty was to Elion alone. You bore no love for the fallen, especially not for your brothers; your betrayal has nothing to do with your them."

Aeaon had been my council aforetime. He was an elder amongst the angels of the welkin void: a realm beyond the heavens we knew. He was called 'the watcher of time'.

At last my feet returned to the grass, Azaya beside me trembling, her gaze fixed upon me; her naked body clothed by my wings.

"Come," he extended his left arm away from his shoulder, "witness the aftermath of your betrayal." And as he pronated his wrist the centermost ring dislodged from its axis, stationing itself before his outstretched hand; rapid rotation ensuing.

All at once, the amber ring ruptured the corporeal fabric of this world in blurred motion before entering stasis, becoming an astral gate; a portal of light.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, glaring at my mentor with dubious eyes.

"To Antediluvia," he answered forthwith. Azaya's grip tightened around my forearm, her blue eyes fraught with fear. "No harm shall befall you, Azaya child. But your husband is called to witness this fallout."

"Don't be afraid," I comforted, "he is not sent against us."

Into the glaring light we ventured; the distance of time folding before our eyes as we stood in a sea of prismatic waves. Suddenly we found ourselves in the air on the outskirts of Antediluvia, witnessing the ancient city beleaguered by dark forces.

"What is happening?" asked Azaya.

"Reprisal for the desolation of Pithriom," my solemn answer came.

"Yes. Your brothers, Havvavhel, have conspired to erase the name of Elion from upon Midbar. Cohabitating with the daughters of Min was only a strategic precondition for what is fated. The fall of Pithriom was a mortal wound meted out by your hand; this is their vengeance over waken."

"How long has it been?" I inquired.

"This marks the fourth night. If Antediluvia falls, Midbar will be plunged into perpetual darkness. And if chaos prevails then it all ends in ruin."

"I will not stand idly by and watch this unfold," I raged extending my right hand, conjuring my sword therein.

"Save your strength, Havvavhel," his condescending tone pierced my ears. "Your soul is tainted by chaos now. Take a gander—the end has already been decided. Antediluvia will not fall this night."

In that moment, a myriad of angels descended from starless skies, forming a glary fourfold barrier that encircled the entirety of the ancient city. As the leaguer of the fallen advanced, my eyes perceived unhallowed beings leading a company of baleful souls: Mythrah, Nihilion, Atheion and Orakhiel. These were my brothers; the artificers of the fall.

Hand in hand, the glory-mantled beings began lifting angelic voices into the night. In solemnity and solace they echoed a sullen chorus beneath hopeless skies, a parting song; the requiem of angels.

"Fate has taken hold; a final song to keep our souls alive—a melody untold. Trust in all we've shown; faith will guide us through the night, until the wake of dawn."

"Let Midbar rise—as angels fall," Aeaon dismally breathed as the chorus ended; his tone dark with sorrow. Azaya stood motionless in reverie, mesmerized by the cherubic melodies.

Suddenly another legion of angels descended, each prepared for war. These formed a fifth barrier, suddenly turning a thousand violent swords against their kin; bleeding magnificent beams into the ether in a fatal festival of lights.

"What is the meaning of this?" I asked.

"They call it the 'angel's cry'," he answered. "The nobles have surrendered their lives in exchange for the salvation of Midbar."

"But—angels never die," Azaya interjected.

"The mysteries of our world are—unsearchable, Azaya child. Their sacrifice countervails the darkness, embracing the light above—erasing the shadows."

As his words lingered in the open air, a sky shattering explosion of blinding light vanquished the night, dispelling the darkness completely; the vigor of faithful surrender.

As the light began to fade, my feet alighted upon the grass of the mount where Aeaon first appeared; Azaya safe in my arms. And there we were, standing in the waves of the martyrs; drowning in the evanescence of a righteous sea.

Stupefied, Azaya and I kept silence as the light washed away the night. But like a dream, I saw myself falling from the love of my father, Midbar shackled to my feet, pulled ever downward by the gravity of my misdeeds.

"Yes, Havvavhel; you are responsible." Aeaon's judgmental eyes peered through me now.

"The angels did petition before the great throne to endure this fate as a direct result of your forbearance. Their essence has formed an eternal spirit field that purveys the archaic kingdom with an impenetrable defense. The legions of chaos can no longer enter therein without fatal consequence."

"So angels do die after all," Azaya murmured sorrowfully.

"It is not death," he lowered his head, "though there is no superior description." His trying eyes returned to me. "They say that a fractured soul can never be whole again, when falling away from grace—and facing the shadows.

"You were forged from chaos and straightened in sobriety. Your soul isn't broken, Havvavhel—it is bent. Time will unveil all that lurks beyond the shadows of discretion. Find redemption—before there is none left; this is my final prayer to you."

"Thank you, Aeaon. You have been my only friend."

Azaya held me close now, her tender heart a riot within her chest.

"Is there anything I should know—before you go?" she asked with trebling lips as he began his ascension. He lowered his solemn gaze.

"Time is a raging ocean, drowning memories in its wake. Let the waters crowd around you, for the worlds that you have razed. You are not your past, Azaya child. The chaos-flame is not your victor—you can overcome it all. But still you choose surrender." He lifted rueful eyes to starless heavens; his visage painted with sadness.

"I don't understand," she replied lurching forward, but he left her standing there.

I held her close with arms of solace as Aeaon faded into the black; beyond the hallowed constellation Metrayim.

"Who was he?" Azaya inquired.

"Aeaon is of the exothian angelic order. He presides over the arcs of time. He had been my mentor of old."

"I wish I had someone—like him. Maybe things would have been different." She rested her head in my bosom as my wings hid her beauty from the heavens.

"All of your hurt and all of your pain—we can leave it all behind—tonight. You are all I never knew I needed, Azaya. I will fight the demons of your past—until you are free."

"Havvavhel, I love you more than my heart can bear. But I'm so afraid."

"You don't have to be anymore."

"But I am."

"Of what, my love?" My hands caressed her cheek.

"Of losing you," she answered softly, "of hurting you."

"You won't—you can't."

"That's not true. I belong to the order of chaos, Havvavhel. It never mattered where I ran, or how well I hid; they would always find me. Somehow, it felt like every move I made was scripted—even now."

"Azaya, there is nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe—believe."

"I believe you." She held me tightly.

"Antedeluvia stands after all," I said diverting the conversation.

"What is it about Antediluvia that holy empyreans would die to preserve it?" Azaya mused aloud.

"Among them lives a royal bloodline, the descendants of Elion; true arbiters of Elion's flame. There are many legends surrounding the origin of Antediluvia and the first kings. I'll tell you stories of the forgotten days sometime."

"What if the spies of Antedeluvia find me, my love? I am marked to be executed."

"It would take a thousand lifetimes before I let them hurt you, Azaya. Find solace in my words and let your fears rest. I will keep you safe." I brushed my hand through her ecru hair, searching fretful eyes.

"You are so beautiful," I whispered watching as my soft words revived the light in her eyes.

We laid in the grass, beholding as Midbar's two moons coupled together, displaying radiant colors of harvest and indigo; a rare semilunar spectacle.

"It's beautiful isn't it, just like our love?" Her dimples emerged. It was the first time I saw her smile like this. Her beautiful ocean eyes were always anxious and jaded, ever dreading inevitable fallout, destined to event in her ruin. But now she felt safe in the warmth of my angelic embrace, and I was determined to keep her there forever.

Chapter V -- Embers of Azaya

As the night drew on we set down inside the forest, hungry and ready for the hunt. Eventually we happened upon a mountain deer, drinking from the gentle waters of a moonlit stream. Without startling the creature, I took its life with a sharp blade, draining the lifeblood upon the grass.

"That—was beautiful!" remarked Azaya, elated by the kill.

Under the vaunting arms of woody giants I made our camp, preparing the venison with herbs and spices while Azaya searched for fruits among the trees. She speedily returned with a bird's nest full, beaming proudly as she came.

We started a fire that quickly evolved into a burning flame, fiercely dancing before us; casting vague shadows in the dreary. As we satisfied our hunger, Azaya began unraveling the mournful stories of her past.

"I was born in a small village in Esoteria. My mother's name was Azayabelle; she was a lisper." She lifted her eyes to mine, chuckling at the realization of my confusion. "I'm sorry. Part of me still believes that you know more about the arcane than I do.

"Lispers are the translators of the dark languages. Back then she was treated as an outcast, a blighted witch bringing curses of death, pestilence and famine upon the land; a mere superstition at best but one of grave consequence for us nonetheless.

"She was banished from Esoteria by the ruling caste and left to wander in the barren wasteland if haply death would welcome her with open arms. But by some measure of—unhallowed providence, she survived the funereal Harshlands eventually finding refuge in the city of Emeridea. She was only a child then." Azaya took a piece of fruit, lazily smearing it against her pink lips before taking a small bite.

"Why do you refer to her survival as an unholy thing?"

"Because—she brought me forth." She scoffed, casting a dejected gaze into the leafy hollows.

"You are my heart, Azaya. This world would be so empty and cold without you." She blushed for a brief moment, trying to avoid my adoring glare.

"This world would be just fine without me." Her blithe countenance quickly fell. "My mother once said that I am like a firebrand plucked from the ruin, a mordant arsonist—destined to gender chaos." Her outstretched hand was set ablaze now as it lingered in the open flame.

"The runes traveling down my spine were inscribed by the igneous hand of Anarchiel: the fourth archetype of chaos." She chucked a firebrand across the silvery river, shutting her eyes as it tumbled upon the grass.

With eyes closed she became still. And I beheld as the burning grass took the form of a fiery damsel, dancing amongst the moon-cast shadows of the trees; scorching the forage beneath her feet. Suddenly Azaya's quivering lips began to croon a songful requiem:

"Into the fire she wandered, into the flames she was led. Enslaved by the sound of the embers; the ashes of Elion's dread. The skies of fire they jade her heart, the sun became her home. Her tears they dried from burning fire, forever and alone, forever and alone," her voice began to break under the weight of her emotions, "forever and alone. . ."

"That was—cherubic, Azaya. Y ou are gifted as you are beautiful. The melody and the words—they evoke profound feelings of sadness." I peered deeply into the oceanic windows of her soul. "Your eyes tell a story of tragedy and sorrow. Know that you don't ever have to be alone again."

"Thank you," she solemnly replied visibly dispirited. "My mother sang that song to me on the day that she left me abandoned. I didn't understand what she meant when she said that I was the girl in the fire. I was so young then—and ever so afraid. . .

"I'm burdening you with my past, I'm sorry." A doleful simper emerged before she diverted. "Tell me about Turiah. When I awoke, I was told that you defeated part of their army without even taking a step. Can you tell me how?"

"Well, as an attribute of my nature, I am able to augment mortal elements in the air. I didn't want to kill them, Azaya—they left me no choice. On contact the dark cloud instantly collapses all vital organs; there is no fight—and no escaping. This is the design of Elion."

"You can do this to anyone?"

"Yes," I muttered in somber reply, lifting another piece of venison to my lips.

Silence besieged the night as the damsel ruminated over her newly acquired knowledge, enkindled from the fires of discretion. As the flames burned auburn on the fireside, she lifted sun-kissed hands, manipulating the torrid petals of the campfire before me.

"I don't quite comprehend the mechanics of the art of arson. But wherever there is fire—a voice within me calls, compelling me to capture the flames. And I lay hold on the fire; it is the only time I feel alive—then, and when I'm with you.

"My path is tainted with blood and marred by fire. I did not choose this life for myself; it was chosen for me. Now in the hereafter, I finally recognize my own reflection; and I know I am to blame for the woes that I have made." She spoke with discretion, constructing a shadowy labyrinth for me to wander.

"I will be the last to judge, my love." I lifted my gaze to the midnight sky. "Even if heaven falls—and even when the stars are gone, my heart will always respond to the sound of your voice." She hid her eyes from me, drying her tears as they escaped their fragile prison.

"I really do love you, Havvavhel—with all that I am," she said between muffled cries. "Tomorrow is a vacant dream. I want to stay awake with you tonight."

Rising to her feet, she strutted around the fire before falling into my arms. "I feel safe here, like nothing can harm me. I want it to stay this way forever."

"Forever with you is all that I need." I kissed the crown of her head as she closed her eyes in a moment of serenity. "Bathe with me," I said as I rose to my feet.

"I would love too." She left my embrace and began to dance beside the river, captivating lustful eyes; satisfying an empty heart completely.

Suddenly the campfire ascended in a spiral before gravitating towards the dancing maiden as she twirled beside the stream. While she performed her dance of fire, I constructed a barricade in the river using a large tree felled by the edge of my blade.

Mystified in the dreamy ambience of the night, we held each other close, reveling in the liberty of infantile love, now blossoming in the wake of the fall. Though I had fallen, yet never had I felt so high.

"I want to be yours forever," she whispered as her delicate lips trailed down my neck. Her cool breath brushed against my lips, her inhales telekinetic; pulling me in once again.

Her quiet moans were carried through the forest on the sighs of the wind as lunar-lit waves washed away our yesterdays. Suddenly a falling star caught my gaze as it tore through the night, finally crashing into the ocean, raising waves above the hills in the distance.

"What was that?" Azaya exclaimed as she turned around.

"Sithrah has fallen," I answered in a somber tone. Her curious eyes returned to mine.

"What does that mean?" Anxiety began to overwhelm her. She flinched as my four wings spontaneously emerged.

"We shall soon know." I scooped her up in my arms, launching into the air bound for the hills; to the place where the angel had fallen.

"Havvavhel," thundered Sithrah as he ascended from the deep. Two enormous horns protruded from the sides of his temple, his eyes were a fiery crimson, his skin a dark callous teal. Four giant wings like that of a dragonfly sprung from his back and he was garnished with livid armor.

"What have you become, Sithrah? Why did you choose to fall?" I lamented. He scoffed at my words as he poised aerial before us.

"We envied you, Havvavhel. Elion kept you shut away from the light—ever protected from knowledge; ever benighted." He drew closer now, still airborne. "I was given an order I could not follow. My devotion is to the order of chaos now."

"You were one of the foremost guardians in the courts of Elion, Sithrah. What command could be so unthinkable that it would inspire your betrayal? Will the empyreans all fall?" I protested; dismayed by his words.

"It is unfitting that you mimic sentiments of remorse, destroyer. It was your disobedience that gendered further schism in heaven; it was your selfishness that caused me to fall. You have witnessed the angel's cry—in Antediluvia. It is the paragon set forth for all empyreans to follow.

"I have pledged allegiance to the darkness—as have you." He ended.

"I have made no such pledge."

"Not in words, Havvavhel—but in deeds." His feet finally met the ground and I found myself in his shadow. "You belong to the order of chaos—as does the arbiter of the chaos-flame; the one who snared your heart." His crimson eyes shifted to Azaya as she stood in silence with arms folded.

"The force of a dying star bottled up inside a mere esoterian; even I doubted the possibility," he mused aloud.

"Why did you come to see me?" I asked.

"The age of famine is upon us, Havvavhel. I come as an emissary of the withering spirit. Esoteria must fall—and your beloved Antediluvia must be erased. Prove to us that your fealty is with the fallen. Help us destroy Antediluvia and you shall be rewarded when he comes."

"I vow to not stand in your way."

"That is not enough, destroyer!" he said fuming. Antediluvia is more formidable now than in days gone past; we are in need of your—unique skillset. The rudiments of war have changed—angels die, Havvavhel. Fight with us, for the age of Famine is inevitable. Join us, or we shall be your undoing."

"Is that a threat, Sithrah?" I lurched towards him as he retreated into the air. "I will not lift my hands against Antediluvia. That is final."

"So be it. I go unto your brothers, Havvavhel. Revise your position on our proposal—for your own sake."

Azaya appeared at my side as Sithrah departed. There was silence between us for a moment as we stood on the edge of the isle of Nivmir, beholding as the devil vanished into the night.

"What if he's right, what if Antediluvia is too dangerous to be left alone?" She placed her hand in mine. "I am their prisoner after all."

I sighed heavily, pondering on her words. Long ago, I befriended a noble warrior of boundless courage in the ancient city. His name was Avon. As captain of the host, he fought beside me when Antediluvia triumphed against Pithriom. He was more dear to me than my own brothers.

Surely the rulers of Antediluvia would show me favor if I petitioned them to pardon Azaya for the sake of me. I have been their ally from time immemorial. I mused.

"What do you think I should do, Azaya?" I perused as she wrapped her arms around me. Slowly, she lifted resolute eyes to mine.

"I think you should destroy them all." Her heartless reply left me still. Calmly she strutted over to the edge, staring out into the night. "You may not know this, but I was kept prisoner in Antediluvia for almost two years before they finally agreed upon my execution.

"I vaguely remember being dragged into the probatorium to be put to death. I was so contented with their resolve then—so anxious to finally leave this world behind. But then you walked in. When I first saw you, I surmised that you had come to take us below—to drag us down into the lower world."

"What gave you that thought?"

"It was the dark aura of you: your starless eyes, your somber vesture, your dark wings of legend and lore. Your recondite appearance bewitched us all. But you saved me from death. Then you found me in my waiting cell, and offered me freedom.

"But I will never be free as long as Antediluvia seeks my life." She opened her lips, drinking in the ocean air before releasing a lengthy sigh. "I'm afraid that you would choose them over me. I would not survive that hurt."

"Azaya, my heart beats for you." I took her hand placing her open palm upon my chest. Nothing can change the rhythm of this heart. I will bear you to the edge of the world if it means that you'll be safe."

She lowered her eyes, turning away from me, dissatisfied with my indecision.

"When darkness fades I will go to Antediluvia—and I will earn your freedom."

"I will come with you then." She turned around.

"No. I won't take that risk. You'll stay in the welkin enclave with my brothers until I return."

"What happens if the rulers of Antediluvia refuse to pardon my transgressions?"

"Then I will persuade them," I solemnly replied.

Chapter VI – Hopeless

Through the fires of dawn and clouds like smoke, I navigated evanescent skies bound to the western palisades of Mitzrah. Azaya had fallen asleep in my arms and I found myself entranced by her beauty in slumber; comforted to know that she was mine.

From high above, the fog-mantled temple could be seen: a monumental stone structure, scraping the surface of the sky; the stronghold of the fallen.

"Havvavhel graces us with his presence," a fallen empyrean guard heralded as I descended.

"Brother!" Mythrah sounded from atop a golden balcony within the temple. "Come, your visitation was much anticipated."

"I am only here for a moment—to ask a small favor." I flew up to the balcony to meet him. He brushed his streaming argent hair from before silvery-gray eyes, his tattooed sleeve revealing a diorama of esoteric drawings and cryptic symbols.

"Ask anything, brother." He gestured to an idle chambermaid robed in purple and she hurried across to attend to Azaya. As the maid ushered Azaya away, he placed his hand upon my shoulder.

"Tell me, what do you require?"

"I go to visit an old friend. Keep her safe while I'm away." My answer was discreet, evoking his curiosity.

"An old friend. . ." He mulled over my words. "Is she as charming as this flower?" he said making reference to Azaya.

"I hope so." I scoffed, mounting the golden rails, landing down below; the emergence of my wings scattering the mist that pervaded the atmosphere.

"You're always welcomed, Havvavhel." Mythrah turned away as I departed.

Beyond the sea of min, the dominions of Epistolaria and Evanasiah rushed past below, until I came to Antediluvia. Murmuring fell out amongst the civilians as I poised aerial above the king's court.

"I am here to speak with your king," I announced to the silver-plated guards at the door following my descent.

"Havvavhel," one of the soldiers exclaimed. "The king would be delighted to know of your visitation. Go to him at once." He gestured to the young messenger who instantly left us standing there.

"The king calls for him," the messenger returned and I was immediately escorted into the grand court; blindfolded. Down endless halls and through giant columns we ventured, finally arriving at the silver doors of the throne room.

"Forgive my stringent measures, old friend—trust is in exile; though if my memory proves faithful—you are familiar with these halls."

"Avon, you are king?" My astonishment was met with a bitter scoff. I removed the blindfold from my eyes, lifting both hands to embrace my old comrade, but he rejected my peaceable gesture; his dark eyes leering at me in disgust.

"Your hands are unclean, Havvavhel; guilty with the blood of my people. You betrayed our confidence, yet you return as a friend? If Elion himself had forewarned of your deceit—I shudder to confess that I myself would have rejected his warning."

"It is not that simple, Avon."

"Oh, but it is. You fell in love with the firebrand of Esoteria: Azaya—an emissary of chaos. You aided her in escaping our prison. Then you spared your brothers from judgment and allowed them to retreat to their stronghold in the north. And as if those transgressions were not enough, you went forth and wrought carnage in Turiah, slaying hundreds.

"So tell me, Havvavhel; what do I lack?"

"Compassion—for your once ally, Avon—you lack compassion." My resounding reply shook the young king. He combed tan fingers through his short brunet hair in frustration; his somber eyes restless in mourning.

"I defended you as long as I could. But after Turiah—and after the siege of Antediluvia—by your kin nonetheless; there remains no mend for this wound. It is fatal."

"I am not here to make amends, noble king. I am here to bring warning—and to ask a favor in return."

"Then speak your heart, and do not forbear."

"The age of famine is upon Midbar, evident by the harvest moon eclipse. It is believed to be the incarnation of the first archetype of chaos. Antediluvia is fated to fall in its wake.

"Sithrah has also fallen. He is one of the artificers of the perennial gates. Be warned, oh king; the stage is being set for the destruction of Antediluvia."

"Antediluvia is protected by the angel's cry. Elion has chosen us to reign upon Midbar. Your warnings are empty." He scoffed. "And what is this favor you desire?" He approached me close, glaring into my rueful eyes with an iron visage.

"Humble yourself, Avon; pride has overthrown greater."

I released a heavy sigh before parting lips confessed my solemn request. "I ask for myself, that the charges against Azaya be lifted under oath. If Antediluvia stands, I want her safe." His eyes widened as he ruminated on my petition.

"Azaya singlehandedly destroyed kingdoms, Havvavhel. Countless lives wasted by her blighted existence!" His anger surfaced now as rage lifted his dreadful tone. "You expect me to pardon that diabolical tool, that slave of the order of chaos?" He returned to me.

"Of all the maidens of Midbar, Havvavhel, you fell for a daughter of chaos? He flouted wagging his head at me with scornful eyes.

"I just need an answer."

"The answer is no!" His tone ascended again. "Wherever she runs, wherever you hide her beneath these skies; I will find her, and I will execute vengeance—for all the remnants of our allies that she laid to waste in her unrelenting wrath!"

"She is my wife, Avon—for my sake; for the history we've made you and I."

"She is a weapon, Havvavhel. And our friendship was buried with the remains of my slain brothers—when your kind happened upon us in the dead of night not far from where we now stand!"

"You do not want me as an adversary, Avon—believe me. I will bring you unforgettable sorrow."

"You dare threaten the king in his own house?" His fierce visage featured dauntless eyes now.

"Power has driven you to abandon both wisdom and respect, old friend. I am the reason you are king."

"I have weighed your petition in the balance. My judgment is final. Hide her well, Havvavhel; for I will not relent." He returned to his throne, vexed from our dispute. Suddenly a door flew open and his wife Meritayah stormed in, visibly upset.

"My love, you will wake the child. Is this riot really of necessity?" She turned to witness my insidious glare fixed upon her. "Havvavhel!" she exulted in astonishment. "I thought we'd never see you again."

But in the background, seated upon his lofty throne, Avon realized that he had already lost the battle.

"Meritayah, run!" shouted Avon. But it was too late. As she fell into my arms unconscious, Avon sprung up from his throne, begging for mercy.

"Save your strength, old friend." I calmed him. My judgment is final." He fell to his knees in silent surrender; defeated. "You will find her at the temple of Mythrah. Come alone."

Through the halls I fled tearing his troops apart with my blade as I went. With the queen of Antediluvia as my captive I parted the skies, bound to the heights of Mitzrah once again.

"What is this?" Sithrah said as I returned to the welkin enclave, crashing through the temple's entrance.

"A gift—for my brothers," I replied as I handed the sleeping woman to Mythrah.

"Isn't this the queen of Antediluvia?" asked Nihilion, my brother.

"How did you pass through the soul barrier unscathed?" inquired Mythrah. But as he said this, my eyes became dim and I collapsed.

When I awoke, Azaya was lying beside me in the bed where I was laid. Her curly brunette hair danced in the evening breeze rushing through an open doorway in the elevated bedchamber.

"You're awake!" She began kissing me incessantly.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Three endless weeks, my love," she swept her fingers through my hair.

"Tell me all that has happened." And she began to unfold that Avon had been captured and was being kept a prisoner of Mythrah.

"I don't have to fear reprisal anymore, my love. You have sacrificed so much for me to be free. You are my savior." Lovingly she threw both arms around me, embracing me with all her might.

"I had a perennial dream," I relayed, "of a temple of my own, fashioned by the architects of Esoteria." She gave me a tender kiss, her face painted with delight.

"I can see it now: the temple of Havvavhel." She laughed, kissing me softly once more. "I will follow you—wherever you go, Havvavhel." She gazed deep within my soul, filling the emptiness with fervent love and passion unmistakable.

Shortly after departing the temple of Mythrah in the welkin enclave, we arrived in the heart of a desolated and war-torn village in Esoteria; alighting amidst the ruin.

"I knew you would come, Havvavhel," an eerie voice uttered from beneath a drab cloak as a mysterious figure emerged from the rubble. "And you've brought my precious child with you from the dead—oh angel of disgrace."

"Who are you?—"

"Kabayo!" exclaimed Azaya brushing past me to greet him. But he lifted his right hand, a grim gesture of monition.

"Come no closer, for my days approach a dreadful end."

"What has happened, master? Where are Lumina and Luna?" she anxiously inquired.

"They have migrated on fallen wings—gone with the authors of the famine age. I however am plagued by the wages of chaos. Mortal man is not strong enough to bear these burdens. Sometimes—sometimes he is crushed beneath the weight"

"I am come to hire men to—"

"Build a temple in your name; yes, that they will do."

He led us through the dust, out of the desolate village and into a treacherous bog. Eventually we arrived at a giant moss-mantled pyramidal structure, nestled in the marshland on the outskirts of Esoteria.

Azaya covered her face to block out the onerous stink permeating the air as we entered the monolithic structure. Inside were an audience of cloak-garbed Esoterians lounging idle; their piercing glances falling upon me as I ventured in.

"These architects will translate your dream into reality." Kabayo grinned under the shadow of his hood.

"How did you know of my dream?"

"Where did the dream originate? That, morbid angel, is the true question. He nodded as one of the men tossed him a black book. "We drink from the same fountain, you and me.

"This is for you, my child." He turned to Azaya. "Within this book is found all the secrets of your past. It is my final lesson to you."

"Thank you, master. I will read it with diligence."

"As for you, Havvavhel, I am the grand architect; the one that authored your dream." His tone was caustic now but familiar.

"No, there was something more than a paling mortal, standing on the edge of his wretched life," I flouted. His eyes were hidden but I could still feel the weight of his glare upon me.

"Don't you remember me?" He scoffed. Not many mortals can dance with the angel of destruction. But I did—when you failed to erase my life so long ago."

"Wait, you've met before?" Azaya interjected.

"Yes, and even now his very being vibrates on an antithetical frequency to mine. It is coded in his nature to kill me. Isn't that right, destroyer?" I scoffed in reply, moved by the veracity of his words. "Remarkable restraint, I must add."

"What do you know of me?" I scoffed.

"Well. . . You were Elion's final creation; a most peculiar installment in the Empyreanic race. I suppose that Elion foresaw the fall and forged you as a countermeasure; an enigma of order and chaos. But as a consequence of your nature, you are unable to approach the throne.

"You became an outcast in your own mind, ever seeking validation if haply you could earn your way into the courts of Elion." He paused, tilting his head.

"How old are you now, given the years of Midbar, seventeen perhaps? Nevertheless, your ontology is unlike your counterparts and your abilities are unrivaled. You are a true paragon of the mysteries of heaven." His maundering finally ended.

"I won't forbear when next we meet, Kabayo; until then." I brushed past him, surveying the builders. "With me, men; all that will build my temple." And they all arose.

Across the haze-mantled sea we voyaged, bound for the isle of Nivmir. The architects murmured amongst themselves in an unknown language as their wooden vessel was tossed about by violent waves in the midst of a brewing storm.

Through the thick brume and beyond the swelling waves, the mountainous island finally emerged; drenched in the tears of heaven. I took Azaya in my arms soaring above the waves, peering down at the tempest-swept crew, being ceaselessly buffeted by the winds.

"Danger ahead!" one of the men shouted and we all turned to behold the sight. Five monstrous vortexes formed an impassible obstacle, threating to drag them into the lower world alive. "We won't make it, dark angel."

"Hold on!" With Azaya clinging to my neck, I reached out, laying hold on the stern of the watercraft, dragging it tail-first through the waves of the maelstroms until the danger was past.

"We are eternally indebted to you, dark angel," the master builder said as the men abandoned the damaged ship allowing the waves to bring them to shore.

And in the pouring rain, the men began their work; determined to prove their worth.

Chapter VII – Fatal Reprisal

After three lunar months had passed, the temple was almost complete. During its construction, Azaya and I lived beside the river in the forest, in a tent made for us by the architects.

From below we watched as the builders worked tirelessly, seemingly driven by an otherworldly force like soulless slaves. But as the ominous tower ascended into the heavens day by day, an unescapable sense of foreboding overwhelmed me by its very appearance.

"Good morning, my love," Azaya whispered, kissing my chest softly as she lay beside me under the tent. "You were restless all night. Is everything alright?"

"I don't know." I sat up. "I've been having strange dreams of late."

"Tell me of them." She placed her hand upon my cheek, lovingly peering into my troubled soul.

"I see myself standing in a high place. There is a panoramic view from my eyes but—my soul is deeply troubled. I hear voices calling to me from the shadows, beckoning to me from beyond the veil—and I become weary of them in the dreamy ambience.

"But in that place, the shadows are my only friends. And while sitting in the dark amongst them, they show me to a large window. And I draw near to the opening only to witness the sky blackened with fire and smoke.

"Then I ask for the meaning of it. And they whisper a heart-rending reply, 'Azaya; embers of Azaya.' Mortified, I try to leave—to find you. But there was no escaping. Then I awake."

She ushered me into her warm embrace, gently brushing her fingers through my hair; ruminating on the details of my dream as I laid my head on her anxious heart.

"I—I have destroyed countless lives, Havvavhel. The chaos-flame—it has a will of its own. Perhaps it was a vision of my past."

"Could it be a vison of our futures?" My eyes fell upon her as sorrow took hold; weighing her down. "I will not let the darkness take you, Azaya. Whatever covenant was made between your mother and the order of chaos will be broken.

"What if it's too late?" she cried.

"Don't say that." I lifted her head, drying the crystal tears that damped her bronze cheek. "It's never too late, Azaya." She held me close, burying her face in my bosom as we sat upright in the cozy tent.

Suddenly, the sound of giant wings escaped the silence, followed by the mighty footfall of devils tromping through the forest. Racing towards the sound I found Sithrah leading a company of the fallen approaching fast.

"Havvavhel, the welkin enclave has been beleaguered by the forces of Antediluvia," Sithrah relayed. "Your brother Mythrah—has fallen. We need your strength, lest we all fall this day."

"What do you mean, 'Mythrah has fallen?'" I lurched towards him.

"The king that reigns in Avon's stead has weaponized the angel's cry. He is called Yatsum, I witnessed as he mastered Mythrah in combat, ruthlessly beheading our champion upon the evanasian fields below the welkin enclave.

"This is the hour of their conquest over Midbar, Havvavhel. Both Esoteria and Turiah have allied with them. This battle cannot be won without you. Everything we fell for hangs in the balance."

"Go, I'll be here when you return." Azaya kissed me goodbye.

"If you permit, allow me to give Turiel and Gemirhel to watch over the maiden in your absence," offered Sithrah. Leaving the island, we tore through the heavens, descending in fury upon the allied forces of Antediluvia.

Tearing through their ranks, I littered the skies with crimson-tainted metal as hands of chaos ripped their captains apart in a festival of blood; violently separating the souls of the brave from their mortal vessels.

Colors of vermillion stained the ground as the battle raged on. Deafened by the blood curdling screams of defeat and cries of mastery, Sithrah led me through the carnage.

"There is your mark—for Mythrah." He pointed to a valiant warrior in the distance vestured in scintillate armor, visibly unmatched in skill; massacring the legions of the fallen.

Marching onward to meet the king, my vison went dark as the cataracts of bedlam took form. Soon we were engaged in deadly combat.

"If we fall before the daystar rises, let it be into the dreams of our fathers," shouted Yatsum. "Today, I claim victory over the treacherous destroying angel." He whetted twin swords against each other before charging forward again.

Sword against sword and skin on metal, we fought with vigor and passion. His argent eyes reflected the purity of heaven; his bronze skin and dark hair conveyed his esoterian heritage.

He fought with the power of the angels at his disposal, matching my speed and strength, effortlessly countering each fatal assault with remarkable precision until we found ourselves climbing into the heavens; raining sparks upon the looming clouds.

My chaokinesis had no effect on the masterful warrior, and I was left astonished after each failed attempt.

"I have transcended mortality, destroying angel. I am the reckoning of the fallen."

"Avon believed the same."

"Avon was naive and blinded by pride. Therefore the darkness crept through the cracks in the walls and made a mockery of his momentary reign. I make no such mistake."

"You have already made a mistake—in killing my brother."

"Fear not. His soul still lingers here. You will be reunited with him shortly!"

The fight only intensified as we climbed. With damaged swords we made our marks, skillfully airing our grudges above vengeful skies; a fray without shadow of surrender.

"I will make the emptiness your everlasting home!" I said as I conjured mists of chaos, trapping him inside a morbid cloud designed to destroy his vital organs.

But Yatsum was not prepared to throw the fight. Wounded he burst forth from the cloud, his eyes filled with madness as his onslaught ensued. Suddenly a blinding light erupted during his assault and I was left petrified and vulnerable.

With all his might he pulled his blade from my chest as my bleeding hands kept it from tearing through my shoulder; his two swords now one. And with planetary force, he brought his wrath down upon me.

"This is a holy visitation!" he cried out before his unworldly assault made contact, instantly breaking my chaos shield; creating an explosive blast wave which shattered the iron skies.

Like lightening I fell below, crashing into the fog-mantled hills, tunneling through completely before landing in the ocean; sinking beneath the waves. He is formidable, but it is time to end this.

Rejoicing quickly turned to mourning as doubtful eyes witnessed my return to the battlefield; the cataracts of bedlam now alive in my eyes. Yatsum looked on in wonder as I marched across the frontline—a dark chaossphere viciously spiraling around me, tearing the fabric of Midbar apart as I came.

"Do not engage him!" the king shouted. "He has become death itself!" In that moment the tide of battle began to turn in our favor following his allies' retreat.

"So this is how it ends?" he surmised aloud as the battlefield soon became a burial ground. The chaotic vortexes now manifold were indiscriminate in their malevolence as they snuffed the souls of the living; overwhelming both ally and adversary.

"You would destroy your own kind to secure victory?" he wondered aloud as fearful eyes witnessed the carnage.

"That is the reason they summoned me." I scoffed. "Now behold the cataclysms of chao—"

Suddenly a heavenly assault rained down from above. The angels of the welkin void had come to Antediluvia's aid. There were two among them, Aeaon and his brother Astraphel. Together they were able to counter my chaossphere with their combined power.

"I didn't want any of this, Aeaon."

"Yet you are responsible."

"No one else has to die! Tell Yatsum and his men to order retreat."

"Your brothers won't surrender till Antediluvia falls, Havvavhel; you know this. We fight until the shadows are no more!"

"Then, may the ghosts of today forever haunt you, Aeaon."

"This is for Pithriom, for all our sons and daughters," Atheion said as he came to stand beside me, prepared to fight till the bitter end. But eventually, the battle took its toll.

Beneath saturnine skies the silhouette of a being emerged from the black fog, marching across the misty, corpse-laden battlefield. It was Aeaon. His amber rings were broken, and his once pure visage now visibly marred.

"Three lunar months have passed since the war commenced. It is time for armistice."

Orakhiel came forth scoffing as he did. And in that moment they agreed upon peace with the shaking of hands and swearing of oaths. The remnant of the army of Antediluvia returned with their slain to their kingdom and we to the temple of Mythrah with ours.

Orakhiel orated from the balcony: "Mythrah our brother has fallen in battle. He will be remembered forever as the author of the fall. Let us not mourn but rejoice, for he has shown us that even now—there is life after death." As he said this a man emerged from the shadows hinder.

"Brothers, I live on," the man uttered, his eyes bearing semblance to Mythrah's. As murmurings followed, a guard bolted through the crowds, crying out for Orakhiel's attention.

"My lords, my lords: Avon your prisoner has escaped." The man came to a halt, terror beaming from his eyes. Suddenly he began to hurl but no vomit emerged. Eerily, with hands around his neck he fell to the floor, lifeless. And we all beheld as vines began to grow from his rigid corpse.

"The age of famine has come. This is the sign!" Orakhiel announced. "Antediluvia will fall—eventually. Till then we rebuild and await the arrival of the angel of the drought."

I sounded my last goodbyes to my brothers and comrades; our bond now stronger than before. Orakhiel, Nihilion, Atheion, Sithrah, and Zera-Mayim all came to join in my benediction.

"I suppose he delights in his brothers more than that angelic damsel he left behind." Atheion laughed.

"He came for the war and stayed for the fellowship of the fallen," Zera-Mayim added and we all laughed.

"We would have surely perished without you, Havvavhel." Orakhiel placed his hand on my shoulder. "To Havvavhel!" he cheered turning around, raising his golden goblet. And the assembly of the fallen all echoed my name in uproar.

"Until we meet again," they said in one accord as I departed.

As eventide surrendered the night, I journeyed across the Nian Ocean on injured wings, bound to the isle of Nivmir. Memories of Azaya had comforted me through the lonely days of war. In her arms I longed to be once again and for always.

The distance between us felt endless now—the dark of night and pale ocean my only company. Counting the waves as I scouted through the skies, I recalled the day that I left—remembering the sparkle in her eyes. Her faithful words had given me hope; with her I knew my heart was safe.

"I stayed awake every night, hoping you would return soon," Azaya said softly as I made my way through the brume, lifting my eyes to the damsel as she stood atop the balcony of the novel, mist-shrouded temple.

"I was so afraid. I prayed that you'd be safe." She began to weep as I ascended to where she stood.

"Don't cry. I've waited so long just to see your face. The nights were so long without you. I have missed you through all alone." But she fell to the floor, visibly overwhelmed.

I held her in my arms as the hours went by until finally she became sober. Still fighting back tears, she peered into my eyes, pacing her breaths; stilling her restless mind. With arms wrapped around her, I diverted her attention to the scenic night.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Like a dream," I solemnly replied as we stood in awe atop the balcony of marble stone, gazing into saturnine skies where two diverse planetary bodies converged in lunar harmony, myriad of leagues beyond the Nian Expanse. . .

THE END