Author's Note: Here's my first go at a non-lemon Madan no Ou story. It will be much darker than canon, as Tigre joins forces not with Ellen but Valentina. BTW canon wise Valentina was supposed to be at the Battle of Dinant as the second Vanadis in Command but wasn't because she faked illness. In this story she didn't fake being ill but went with her forces.

He closed his eyes feeling the cool rain pounding against his skin. The mud on his back clung to his armor as he sank deeper into the earth's embrace. He could feel Death approaching to claim him as she had claimed many that day. Turning his head slightly, his eyes flickered open. Most would cry out in surprise at the sight, but to him it was nothing new, it was something that had plagued his dreams for years. The perverse visage of his fellow Brunesman, his features twisted in horror. The man's eyes were cloudy, almost milky, and felt as if they were staring deep into his soul. Death was firmly ingrained in those eyes. He couldn't help but wonder what the man's last moments had been like. Had his life flashed before him like so many claimed? Had he simply sighed in resignation at the fate prescribed to him? Or prayed to his God?

He didn't know what the man had done, though he could guess he'd probably screamed. Skin had been peeled off and the muscles underneath were now crusted with dirt and mud. The face which he thought might've been charming at one point now had a gaping hole where the nose had been, as if a spear had been thrust forth. The neck had a jagged wound across its length, no doubt when his head had been ripped from his body.

Yes he was staring at the severed head of one of his fellow countryman and never once did he blink or shy away in disgust. Turning his head once more he threw a cursory gaze at the landscape around him. All around him bodies lay, distorted, their limbs broken, stretched, severed and all other manners of horror. Most wore the colors of his countrymen, many of their backs pierced as various weapons protruded from them. They had attempted to flee the massacre only to be cut down from behind. Every once in a while he came across a difference uniform jet black gilded with crimson, the colors of the Zchted army, they had fought. He stared back at the sky, closing his eyes once more, allowing the rain to pound against his face.

This is the end. He thought, resigned to his fate. Soon he would go to join his father, and Titta. Soon the nightmare that was his life would be over and he would awaken to the bliss that was the next life. The act that had haunted him all these years, which had alienated all those that once thought of him as a friend or family.

"Bertrand." He whispered a tear coming to his eye. His faithful attendant and caretaker, a loyal man who served his father, and later him. Now he was probably dead, his body lying in the mud somewhere in these accursed plains. The man would've never turned his back on the enemy, neither would've Mashas.

Though they had grown apart, over the years, the look of disappointment in his eyes was forever etched in his memories. Thunder rumbled overhead, as lightning cracked, striking the ground not 20 feet from where he lay. Casting a glance at it, he closed his eyes once more, as if daring nature to strike him. "Soon, soon I will be released from this prison of flesh." He said. For what he thought would be the last time, he closed his eyes; either he'd wake up in paradise, or never wake again. Either way it was a win-win situation.

"Get up." A voice commanded him. It was a smoky and seductive female voice that resonated within his mind. He kept his eyes shut, refusing to look at his left arm, which had begun to heat up in her presence, he already knew what he would see. Tendrils of darkness were circling his limbs, repairing any damage that he might've suffered.

"Dea? Why? Why can't you leave me in peace? Let me die." He said resolutely.

"Get up you FOOL!" She growled, the darkness suddenly constricting him, making it difficult to breathe.

"My time has come." He said simply.

"You whiny, little-!" She cursed, his head feeling as if a blacksmith were using it as an anvil. "It's most certainly not your time! I don't want you yet."

"Why? Why must I go on? Why must I suffer?" He cried. "Everywhere I look, I see her. Her cheerful smile and eyes hound me. I no longer rest for fear that she'll visit me."

"Pshhh." A snarky comment at the thought of the dead coming after him. He was hers to torment and tease, no others would be allowed the privilege. "All living things suffer. Those that survive find meaning in the suffering. You just suffer more than others."

"Please Milady let me go, haven't I done enough?"

A pregnant pause, in which the only sound was from the rain striking him, before she whispered, almost comfortingly. "It is not your time yet." He wept at her answer. "But if you march to the South and East, there is someone who can help you. Go to her and fight her with all your strength, only then will she respect you. Stay by her side and help her, then maybe you will find salvation to escape my hand."

"Until then…" She said comfortingly, the tendril running over him caressingly, like a lover's touch. "I am always with you Tigre. I am the Devil whispered in the darkest nights, the shadowy hand that grasps mortal souls. Even if the entire world turns against you, I will be with you. United together until the end of eternity, we walk the lonely road of immortality, grasping at life that others take for granted. Cursed to know love, and see it wither, to see our children grow and all we care about turn to dust. I who have existed since the Birth, have suffered greater than any other being. Count yourself lucky, that you haven't existed as long as I."

Her voice was full of sorrow and sadness, her speech an elegy to the cursed life she had lived. He had only heard the sadness once before, when she had claimed him as her own; forced to condemn him to suffer the same fate as she suffered.

It was the hope of salvation that spurred him at that moment as he forced himself out of the mud. Struggling to hold his balance, as he sauntered forward. Fate must have been watching over him at that moment as he was able to retrieve a bow and quiver full of arrows from the body of one of fallen soldiers. A rare find considering the disdain that his people showed for the weapon. He limped forward, his body in pain from the fall that had put him in the mud in the first place. With no other choice he pulled a spear from the body of his fallen countryman and used it as a walking stick. He headed in the direction she had advised him, keeping a lookout for anything of interest.

The longer he wandered the greater the devastation he saw. The Battle of Dinant Plains where the Brune army had outnumbered the Zchted army 10 to 1 had been absolutely massacred. Everywhere he turned his kinsmen lay dead, some their bodies nothing more than charred bones, remnants of the fiery attack that Zchted had launched during the night. An army that had thought itself superior to their rival nation's, which had turned their noses at the myths surrounding the legendary warriors, the Vanadis, suffered for their arrogance. Though he himself thought the myths were exaggerated until he saw one of them on the battlefield. Her immaculate skin, untouched by the blood she shed. Crimson eyes that burned with conviction and strength, her argent hair whipping as her sword rent the flesh of all who stood before her, their armor little better than parchment. So entranced by her beauty that he had been knocked aside and trampled by the soldiers fleeing the scene, which led to how he had been in the mud. The bastards had run him over without a care. Was he naïve in believing that humans were creatures that sought more than to save themselves? Was he wrong in believing in the goodness of people, though he knew it existed only in the rarest of men?

He sighed, imagining Dea's reaction to his thoughts. Her once hearty laughter that used to brighten his days, and pull him from the darkest depths, had turned cold and tortured. Where once she would've smiled at his innocent naivety, like a mother to a child, now she would sneer at his idiocy. Time had not been kind to either of them.

Crushing the thoughts he continued forward, every now and then coming across a survivor and scavengers. The survivors limped back whichever way their country was, he watched as bands of scavengers caught up with them and finished them off stripping them of everything they owned. One such band turned themselves towards him, whooping war calls as they galloped towards him in mismatching armor and clothes. Though the distance was over 300 alsins, almost 3x greater than an average archer's maximum range, he calmly raised the bow he had found. Knocking an arrow to the string he drew it to its maximum length, anchoring at the corner of his lip as he sighted in his target. Opening his hand as he pulled back, smoothly releasing the projectile he instantly lost sight of it, only realizing that it had struck its target when the lead rider of the scavengers fell from his horse, the arrow transfixing his forehead.

The band immediately turned away, fearing his range, and the time it would take for them to reach him and cut him down. His arm thrummed with power, a reminder of the life he had just taken, as he continued forward. He walked for a long while; he knew that he had long since crossed into Zchted, yet there was nothing of great interest to him. Cursing his luck, as the rain continued to soak him, he wrapped his cloak tighter. Damn Dea, he should've just stayed down and died, though he mused she would've just kicked his spiritual self back into his body, and told him to stay down. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the sound of a whip cracking and wondered what caused it.

Finally he came upon something of interest, an army camp. Making his way around the camp he scouted the surroundings. The camp itself was placed atop a hill giving it an excellent view of the surrounding countryside, the only reason that he wasn't spotted was due to being camouflaged in the forest over 400 Alsins away, no normal person was capable of seeing him at this distance. It was laid out in a rectangle the two short ends facing east and west, with the longer ones facing north and south. A wall of sharpened wood stakes lined the perimeter, twice as tall as he. In front of the wall soldiers were busy digging a trench so deep that for some only their heads were showing. As he watched patrols of cavalry circled the encampment, being regularly relieved every hour. Flying proudly in the center of the camp was the Zirnitra, flag of Zchted. Portraying a Black Dragon, surrounded by seven swords it was flanked by two other flags on separate poles but positioned lower than the national flag. One he immediately identified as belonging to Leitmeritz, and the flag of the ruling Vanadis, the other he didn't recognize but thought it must belong to another Vanadis.

Two Vanadis? He thought grimly. It was no wonder Brune's army was slaughtered. "Dea." He whispered, hoping that she would respond. His arm tingled as she directed her attention towards him. "Is this why I'm here?"

She remained silent, though her shadows swirled around him and moved towards the camp. Understanding her intent, "I'll wait until night, when we're strongest. They'll feel safe after the licking that they gave the Brunesmen, probably make fires and celebrate their victory. While I doubt many are going to get drunk from fear of punishment, it'll certainly distract them or slow them down." He paused as a plan came together, "We'll strike before they change their guards, their torches making them easy targets."

Looking at the sun, he sighed. It would be hours before it was suitably dark enough for him to attack. Retreating back into the depths of the forest he found a suitable tree, and climbed up it, choosing to recline on a branch with his back against the trunk. "What's your plan for dealing with the Vanadis?" Dea's voice rang through his mind.

"I don't know." He replied honestly. "I doubt anything that I do normally is going to impress them."

"You could turn one of them into a pincushion." She suggested. "That's sure to impress the other one."

"Probably for about five minutes before I'm slaughtered." He replied acidly. "It was your idea to come here, so any suggestions that don't result in me joining you are appreciated."

"I thought you wanted to die."

"I do…" He whispered, drifting into his thoughts. "But then that means I'm going to be saddled with you for eternity. Then I'll find out if it's possible to die twice, or to kill an immortal,"

She spat several vile curses, and thoroughly insulted his mother, before growing silent once more. "Didn't your mother ever teach you manners milady?" He chuckled.

"Several mothers have, then I grew tired of their lessons and had them sent to the fields of torment." She snapped back. He continued to chuckle as he tore into some dried meat he had removed from a pouch on his belt. Though she couldn't fully manifest into this world he could feel her eyes staring at his meal with disgust. "I don't know how you can even think to eat that."

"I'm sorry that we don't all have millions of loyal followers to bring the finest dishes ever prepared. Who willingly throw themselves at your feet and raise monuments in your honor."

"Monument." She corrected. "There's only one monument that I deemed worthy of my attentions. The rest are cheap knockoffs."

"On a serious note though, we have no chance against two Vanadis at the same time, with your current power."

"I know." He said, "They need to be separated."

"You could charge in. It's unlikely that if you attack one, the other will rush to their aid."

"True, or we could be wrong and end up fighting both at the same time."

"What's life without a little risk? Anyways, no plan survives the first encounter with the enemy, so in all likelihood we'll be winging it as soon as we set foot within the camp."

"Do you recognize the other flag?" He asked.

"The Scythe." She grumbled.

"You two have history?"

"She's nothing more than a pretender, a shadow of a shadow. If you get a shot at her, fight her, she needs to be reminded of her place."

Both were silent, as he pondered the information that he had managed to gain, as well as thinking up backup plans. "Wake me when it's suitably dark." He said wrapping his cloak tightly around himself as he got comfortable.

"Tigre" She whispered into his ear, waking him almost instantly. "It's time."

Rolling his shoulders, he stretched a bit, before he jumped off the branch plummeting to the ground below. "Ready." He said. Night had long since fallen, the forest alive with activity as animals hunted and birds gently cooed. He stalked forth, like an apex predator, until he came to the forest line and saw the guards. There was a pair of them, flanking the entrance gate, easily seen due to the torches they bore. It made him kind of sad, there was no challenge here, with his skills he could shoot them with his eyes closed. Knocking two arrows to his bow he let loose, the string thrumming as the arrows left. He could hear the bow singing as it claimed two more lives. Lazily walking forth he passed the fallen guards who each had an arrow embedded in their throat, he'd leave them there. They were too heavy to move easily and besides guard change wasn't scheduled for several hours. Entering the camp through the hole that he just made, he was mildly surprised at the sound and smell that greeted him. Boisterous laughter, angered screaming, the sound of knuckled breaking on someone's jaw, rank sweat, alcohol, and piss overpowering the subtler smells of stews and other foods.

Suppressing a groan as his stomach growled in hunger he began his work. Firstly he built a small pile of tinder and kindling, then doused it in a bit of oil. Next he removed a candle that he had cut into several stumps that would take an hour to completely burn down. It was risky he knew, after all someone could easily stumble upon it and put it out, but he had a plan. Nestling the candle in the pile he lit it, and walked away. He repeated the process ten more times in various places around the camp, and by the time he was finished couldn't help but chuckle cruelly to himself. Each fire was placed next to tents and food stores; he had thought to put some by the siege artillery but decided against it because it would take too long to ignite

Finished and famished, he made his way to the nearest camp fire. Dressed similarly to a scout and bearing no insignia, they would think him as nothing more than a simple mercenary. Withdrawing a handful of coins he presented them to one of the men, along with a simple bowl. The man nodded, taking the coins and passing them out to the other men around the fire. After they nodded as well, his bowl was taken and piping hot stew was poured into it with generous chunks of meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The man who handed him the bowl hesitated for a moment before disappearing into his tent, one of the ones that he hadn't planned on igniting. He returned moments later with a large stein, that he filled with cloves and other herbs. Going over to a barrel he filled it to the top. Removing a hot iron poker that had been resting in the flames he plunged it into the mug, quickly warming the drink, before handing it to him. Raising the stein in thanks he took a long draft from it smacking his lips in appreciation. The man quickly returned to his companions and resumed talking with them, leaving Tigre to his own devices.

From the snippets of conversation that he heard they were talking about the victory over Brune, future marching orders, family, women, and generally cursing a "stupid commander." One name kept repeating itself throughout the conversation though, Valentina. Her name was always spoken with respect and reverence, leading him to believe that she was high up on the command structure. He knew of the Vanadis of Leitmeritz, Eleanora Viltaria, and believed that this Valentina was the other Vanadis that led the army. Stashing those thoughts he ate his food quickly, finishing just in time for a sadistic smile to cross his face. It was time. Smoke began to rise in several parts of the camp, as people began to scream and call for water and buckets. As the men who were around him began to run to put out the fires, he stepped in line behind, driving his knife into the heart of the last man. Leaving him there as a distraction he made his way to the center of the camp, where the commander's tent was located.

To the onlooker his calmness would seem out of place, where others were screaming in panic he calmly strode forward, flames licking at his heels. Arriving at the commander's tent, he spotted a figure as out of place as he was. The greatest distinction that separated them from the masses was that they were a beautiful woman. Midnight blue, almost black tresses flowed freely down her back. A white dress adorned with roses hugged her buxom frame, its low cut and plunging neckline teasing onlookers at what lay beneath the thin fabric. She wore an innocent smile that gripped his heart. Her beauty was without mortal rival, bordering on the magnificence of Dea. Violet eyes darted around capturing the scene around her, there was a cold calmness around her as he felt an emotion that he hadn't felt in a long time, fear. The weapon that she carried was shrouded in darkness, the flames that threatened her simply disappearing as if sucked into the void. A dangerous looking scythe that seemed unwieldy for a woman of her stature leaned against her shoulder.

"Pretender!" Dea hissed, anger and happiness dripping from a voice that spoke of insanity.

"The Scythe," he said softly, knocking an arrow to his bow. As if on cue she turned towards him her innocent smile turning to a feral grin, like a cat catching sight of a helpless mouse. He didn't know how, but he could tell that she knew he was the enemy that created the chaos. She took a step towards him and he released his arrow. It sped towards her, the distance between them too small for her to properly defend, or so he thought. The arrow poised to pierce her throat and dye her immaculate dress crimson, was swatted midair with the haft of her scythe.

He had no time to be amazed as he knocked a pair of arrows, if one didn't work hopefully two would. She was walking towards him at a leisurely pace, impartial to the fact that he was trying to kill her. She spun the Scythe in front of her, deflecting both arrows, as he bit back a curse. This was hopeless, she'd deflect anything he fired.

So this is a Vanadis? He thought grimly. Their reputation was not bloated as he thought, but earned. She swung her scythe, a tear appearing in midair. Darkness darker than darkest shadow gripped her, pulling her through the split. He didn't even have a moment to be amazed at her ability before instincts took over and he dove to the ground, her scythe slashing through the spot where his neck had been a moment before.

"Ara?" She exclaimed in surprise. Her voice was beautiful and enchanting, and in the brief moment that it captivated him, she lunged towards him slashing her scythe towards his chest. He backpedalled furiously, narrowly avoiding the blade that would end him with ease. She was too close for him to properly draw an arrow, and the way that she kept pushing him he knew that he would soon be cornered.

In a desperate gambled he purposefully tripped as he was retreating presenting her with a perfect opening. She took it without hesitation, her eyes flashing victoriously then with confusion as he smirked. Drawing his knife he threw it at her sidearm, only to be amazed at her reflexes. She moved her head to the side avoiding any sort of lethal damage, as the blade grazed her cheek. Her scythe passed harmlessly over him as he fell to the ground, rolling with the fall and back stepping quickly to put distance between them.

She didn't pursue for a moment as she touched a finger to her bleeding cheek. Pulling away she stared at the crimson liquid with something akin to shock, before a dark cloud emanated from her scythe, quickly surrounding the two fighters and snuffing out everything around them. Whether it be sound, heat, or light, everything was plunged into a void like darkness.

He knew that he was in trouble, this void was hers to command, and nothing could exist without her permission. A small laugh surrounded him, its point of origin seeming to be everywhere and nowhere. It evolved quickly into a loud guffaw that sent chills down his spine. "Well you're certainly a step up from the common assassin." She said happily, reigning in her laughter.

"Dea." He whispered, feeling her stir at the name.

"It certainly seems like you're in trouble." She said.

"Yeah no doubt, she's robbed me of all my senses. I need you now, can you do anything?"

She snorted at his question. "I rule the void, to dare compare me with that lowly pretender is a grave insult." As she finished his senses returned, and he saw the Vanadis striding towards him a lazy smile on her face. He drew his bow, and knocked an arrow, savoring the brief hesitation that flitted across her face. He let loose the arrow, only this time instead of blocking his arrow a portal opened to swallow it. A moment later that arrow returned to pierce his leg, stopping only after it was firmly buried halfway through its shaft.

Stifling a scream, he fell to a knee. "DEA!" He growled. "You said that you control this space."

"I do." She said mischievously. "Do you really think that you would be harmed if I did not allow it?"

He muttered several curses as he dropped his bow and broke the arrow that was embedded in his leg. Letting loose a primal scream as he pulled the shaft through, he knew that his time was limited. "Was this your plan? For me to be so wounded that I turn to you for help?"

Her sadistic chuckling was all the answer that he needed. "Screw you!" He screamed, knocking an arrow to his bow. Shutting down the pain he took aim at the Vanadis before him, waiting for her to move. Her startled expression grew into a smile that sent shivers down his spine. She took a step forward vanishing into the void, reappearing moments later farther away from his current position.

"Can you hear me?" She asked. He turned to her voice keeping her in his sights. Her smile grew even larger.

Can you see me? She mouthed. He carefully schooled his features maintaining a mask of calm, but he must've let something slip as she exclaimed. "Amazing! Incredible!" She began to giggle at her discovery. "A man capable of seeing through my void. Come! Fight me! The battle at Dinant has left me unsatisfied!"

A manic gleam crossed her eyes as she charged her swinging her scythe with reckless abandon. Releasing his arrows in quick succession, he let loose a torrent of projectiles save one, but to no avail. She dodged, slashed, and danced around the deadly steel. Her movements were more graceful than the dancers he saw at the festivals performing for the King. Her dress with its sheer fabric, when combined with her movement added a sense of eroticism that he had never seen before. She was playing with him, yet he couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for her abilities. She closed the distance between them, her scythe coming for his neck. Shifting backward he felt the blade graze his chin shaving the hairs, as he knocked his last arrow, drew halfway and let loose. He had hoped the speed and half-draw would be enough to overwhelm her defenses, he should've known better. As fast as he was in attacking, she was faster her hand thrusting upwards catching the arrow mid-shaft moving it over her head as her hand closed around it.

He groaned at the failure, screaming in pain as she thrust the scythe forward like a spear. Although there was no point at the end, it still hit him like a brick throwing him backwards. Tucking his chin he rolled with the blow springing back to his feet. He didn't bother checking his quiver; he knew that had been his last arrow. Throwing aside his bow he drew the small dagger from its hidden sheath on his boot. It'd be of little use but he'd keep fighting.

"Warrior, your fight is over. Surrender now, I swear on my name that you'll be treated fairly." She said. He saw something in her eyes, admiration? Respect? He didn't know what it was but he readied himself. Reversing his grip on the dagger, legs crouched ready to dash forward and end this in a single stroke. "So be it. Admirable Warrior, know that you have my respect. Remember my name Valentina Glinka Estes, Vanadis of the Void." She lifted her scythe, ready to deal the final blow.

Just as she began to move he called out, "DEA," immersing himself in her embrace. Wrapped in the void time ceased to exist for him, as he shifted positions until he was above her. In reality he could imagine her eyes widening as he stole her power. She turned around quickly bringing her scythe up to quickly defend herself expecting a blow that never came. She whirled around several times fearing blows that yet to come. He leapt from his perch intent on burying the blade into her skull. With animal like senses, she looked up to see him falling, and smacked him aside the blunt end of her scythe. He barely broke his landing to find her scythe already upon him, forcing him to throw himself backwards as it ripped over his head. Already in a terrible position he had to roll to the side as she attempted to bury the blade where his chest had been moments before. Twisting her arm she redirected, the blade poised to bury itself in the ground slashed horizontally, slicing open his back.

He lost feeling in his legs, and his arms grew slack, the pain overriding any other thoughts he had. "Release me!" Dea said, her voice taking away the agony that consumed him, as she appeared in his mindscape. "You can't beat her in your current state, and even if you had fought with your all since the beginning the fight would've still been a hard one."

"Why have me fight her then?" He hissed through gritted teeth, nearly biting his tongue off as another wave of pain assaulted his senses.

"The point wasn't to beat her. It was to pique her curiosity, so that she'd offer you a position by her side."

"Then why didn't you tell me to take her offer of surrender!" He roared.

"We need to have a relationship of equals not subservience." She said lightly.

"It certainly doesn't feel like we're equals right now" He mocked, closing his eyes and shutting down his emotions. "We're going to have to release everything in order to seize victory."

"The greatest victories are those you pry from the jaws of defeat." She said cheerfully.

The whole time they had been conversing not even ten seconds passed in the real world. His life rapidly coming to an end, as precious liquid poured from grievous wounds. "An arrow to strike the Heavens, flashes forth to pierce the heart of God."

A solemn pledge, a declaration of his very being, a cursed existence, bound to a Goddess. An endless reminder of a moment of weakness. Forbidden power rushed through his body, restoring it to perfection.

"Rest now, my warrior." He heard her say, before the void around them was dispelled. "And know that I wish you had accepted my offer." She turned her back on him, walking away to inspect the damage he had wrought.

With just a cursory look she could already tell that the camp was in ruins. Thankfully the fires had already been quenched, and their men were rummaging through the remains to scavenge what they could. She saw her fellow Vanadis, Eleanora, rushing towards her, brandishing Arifar.

"Valentina." She cried, stopping short a few feet away.

"Eleanora." She said curtly, shaking Ezendeis, splashing blood on the ground. "The intruder has been eliminated."

"Intruder? As in one?" She said bewildered at the thought one person had caused the devastation that surrounded them. "If there was only one, was it really necessary to use your Veda?"

"He managed to wound me before hand." She replied, fingering the narrow cut Tigre had given her. She kept secret the fact that he was able to see through her skill as a show of respect for his abilities. After all not even her fellow Vanadis had been able to navigate the void that was her Veda.

Eleanora nodded as her answer, before looking towards the sky. "We need to get the men moving. Leitmeritz is half a day away, and we have wounded in dire need of the city's healers. Your intruder managed to set fire to our supply trains and loosen the leads on the horses, who broke free in the chaos."

She leaned Ezendeis against her shoulder as she massaged her temple. "How bad?"

Eleanora sighed sadly. "Even if we make it to the city quickly we're looking at over a third of our forces dead or severely wounded. Coupled with the losses we sustained in the fight with Brune I expect half of the men we brought with us to return on the shields of their comrades. I'm sad to say that the losses we suffered from the fire weren't so much from the attack itself but from the chaos it caused. Our men were woefully underprepared and lacked vigilance after crushing a superior force. Their celebrations were getting out of hand and when the fire struck they panicked. Many of the injuries sustained were from being crushed under foot by their fellow soldiers.

Both Vanadis paused, contemplating the dangers that now faced them, as well as wondering how to word the letters they'd be penning to the families of the men who died. The thought that the King would be furious with them for losing so many of their forces, played in their minds, but they didn't care. To Valentina, Victor was nothing more than a stooge upon the throne that waited for its rightful Queen, herself, and Eleanora was a former mercenary, she didn't care for the opinions of the nobles, and only about her comrades.

They were shaken from their thoughts when, both their Viralts began flaring their power to levels never before seen.

"Arifar?" Eleanora asked, feeling gale force winds beginning to surround her, as if to protect her from danger.

"Ezendeis?" Valentina exclaimed, surprised at the aura her viralt was leaking. If she didn't know any better she would've called it fear, the thought only reinforced when it trembled in her hands.

Foreboding wrapped these two warriors, smothering them under a heavy cloak of malice and death. Before either one knew what they were doing, reflexes kicked in as they threw themselves to either side, dodging an arrow. She wondered why her instincts made her dodge, and turned to see a similar expression on Eleanora's face, but before she could say anything a dome of pure darkness expanded from the arrow engulfing them in its embrace.

She recognized the effects immediately, pouring all her might into Ezendeis in an attempt to counter the effects the Void would have on her. Managing to retain her senses she began to search out her fellow Vanadis, Eleanora had no such protections in this realm and would be an easy target for another Void user. It would be useless to call out to her, her senses were nonexistent here. She was forced to wander about, for how long she didn't know as time and space had no meaning here if the creator willed it. After what had to have been hours she finally gave up and sat on the ground Ezendeis resting in her lap.

"Awww! Giving up already?" A female voice asked her tone laced with malice and sadistic intent.

Valentina stayed silent refusing to play her games. As much as she hated to admit it, Ezendeis was useless here, all of its power required just to sustain her senses. "Tch! You're no fun." The voice commented.

"Where is Eleanora?" She said simply.

"Eleanora?" The voice asked, pausing in what she thought must've been a dramatic fashion. "I don't know any Eleanora!"

"You lie!" Valentina hissed jumping to her feet. "What happened to the other Vanadis that was brought here?"

"Oh! You must be talking about the Sword!" The voice exclaimed. "Suffice it to say that she won't be bothering us anytime soon."

Cold rage gripped her heart. She may not call Eleanora a close friend, but she is a fellow Vanadis, and she had a duty to her. The power that had been protecting her stopped and gathered, swirling around the blades of the crimson scythe scythe.

"Stop." The voice commanded, and instantly she felt all her power dissipate. "You shall do nothing without my express command."

Fear struck her as she stood stock still, unable to move. Her lungs seized unable to breath, and her heart simply stopped beating. Her life flashed before her, as she saw Death walking towards her a sinister smirk on her face before her eyes closed forevermore.