Heavens Honor
One-Shot
The First Kingdom. A vast blue sky adorned with the beating wings of Seraphim. The city, tall and majestic. The light cascaded from above and blanketed the populace with a loving warmth. Man called it Heaven. Angels christened it, The White City. The winds kissed the spires and the walkways glistened with pride. While it is true that Seraphim could fly some chose to walk. They saw the wisdom in exercise.
Statues of long dead warriors ornamented the older buildings. Some held books, one strangely held a rooster. However, above all else one particular effigy overlooked the city. His face pained. His eyes filled with hope. It is said any who would look upon him would know forgiveness. Here the light was at its most radiant.
When the sun shines of over the city the shadows extract their talons. With every conurbation no matter how glorious has its back alleys. Those passages hide secrets. Shadows, illusions, legends that have embraced every realm. The Third Kingdom speaks of a hellish apparition. The First, hides the Creators own sort of black ops angel and the Second is said to conceal a reformed demon.
Their power is said to derive from either the Creator or The Prince of Lies. Each realm however denies that these phantoms exist. Yet what makes the kingdoms fear run cold is no myth. These ancient creatures were born from the vestiges of angel and demon. No more one then the other… Nephilim.
Their past depravity was evident. Prominent. Forsaken. Now, only four remain. The last are known as the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. An atonement of sorts. The fathers of old state "be they dregs of hell, sons of man or lords of heaven the wicked will be punished"
"As I've said before, you underestimate me Horseman"
The angelic general was poised in a defensive posture. Sword at the ready. A Smile etched on her lips. Her wings were folded to prevent drag. She took a step forward and her opponent parallel mirrored her. Her adversary was known for his tactical acumen. His strength, formidable. The angel exercised caution. She darted. She swung her blade. He parried. The shear force sent her reeling.
"How many times are we going to play this game Uriel?"
His grin was apparent even behind his crimson cowl. He took a step forward. His unearthly gaze disquieting. Uriel braced herself. His blade in comparison to hers was monstrous. It donned the anguished faces of the dead, screaming for none to hear. Mimicking the wind he slashed. The general took flight. A few hairs from her head departed.
Her hand then raised to the heavens. A rumbling sound caught the Horsemen's ears. In a flash, lightning was hurled at him. Unable to dive out of the way he brought his blade to the ground. His foe looked below, frustrated. He had in the blink of an eye created a lightning rod. Suddenly she plummeted from the vast blue. Sword arched to kill. He drew his steel ready.
CRRRRRAAAAACCCK
Both were locked with there blades crossed. Time appeared to stop. Both combatants shared a smile. Evidently they had participated in this dance before. The horseman with his mountainous strength pushed Uriel away. A fragment of his god-like power sent her reeling backward. Her wings spread open. Trapping the air she decelerated and eventually stopped. The crimson hooded warrior accelerated in one single dash. His grotesque blade poised to pierce her flesh.
She parried just in time to meet the blow. He attempted to tire the hell-guard general. She swung her sword. He sidestepped. She slashed upward then in one swift motion swung the blade around herself. He bypassed the assault. Her frustration continued to boil. Eyes as fierce as his own. She continued on with a barrage of strikes and slashes. He met them, blow for blow.
A drop of sweat ran down her forehead. Her breath becoming labored. It was time to end it. Just as he lifted his blade she grabbed his tattered cloak and slid between his legs like a ballroom dancer. He spun around. Her blade landed on top of his with an ear splitting clash. She stopped his counter.
Her breath came out in short bursts. Sweat glistened on his forehead. The curse mark dimly alight. Both stood watching each other. Preparing for the others next move. Swords stationary. What happened next would have stunned even Lilith herself.
Uriel lent forward slightly. She placed her left hand on the rim of his hood. She took one glance. He stood, frigid as ice. Her lips met the Red rider's. Kissing him with a gentle grip. He didn't respond. Uriel nibbled his lip. No reaction. She sighed. Defeated she parted from him. Lips just inches apart.
No angel in the union of the hell-guard was permitted to act intimately with another. Let alone a warrior of the Charred Counsel. The Codex Bellum is a law that dictates that all angelic warriors follow the creed - Mind, Law and Discipline. Desire was prohibited. Love was forbidden. The sentence condemns the lower ranking angel to Hell.
Without warning he forcefully pinned the angel against an archway wall. Swords abandoned. She whimpered. He grinned. The Red rider tilted his head, lips pressed to her ear. His breath warm. His voice deep.
"Such spirit, I will claim you"
His lips locked with hers. The Rider's metal prosthetic arm kept a firm grip on her hands. She was at his mercy. A moan escaped from her mouth. His tongue tasting the forbidden fruit. Both exploring, thirsting for the others touch. Yearning to finally consummate their bond. A deep guttural growl resonated within his throat. She gasped.
Since the demise of the Destroyer and the resurrection of man, Uriel and the Red rider had grown somewhat fond of each other. Over the centuries there fondness grew.
His mouth explored her throat. Her moan low. His hands rested on her hips. Bodies grinding. Her hands were freed. She raked her fingers through his long hair and then rested at the back of his head. His hood fell. He nipped her flesh. She shivered. Their mouths reunited in another heated kiss. Savoring the others taste.
Abruptly he parted from her. His eyes narrowed as he looked over his shoulder. An irritated groan emanated from his mouth. Concerned she spoke.
"War?"
He took a step back, pulling his hood back over his head. The shadow hiding his cursed scar. He approached his sword.
"It appears I've outstayed my welcome"
He pulled his blade from the ground. He then rested the flat of the weapon against his shoulder. War waited as a fraction of the hell-guard approached. Uriel met at his side, her sword sheathed. Exasperation was evident on her expression. He was just as aggravated, once more that they weren't able to join. Would they ever be able to become one?
War let the thought process. Sarcasm emanated within.
"Creator only knows"