A/N:
No I'm not dead; this chapter just took me a whole helluva long time to finish! Especially since I was kind of lost about how I wanted to move the story along from here!
WARNING: Extremely long chapter with important plot elements and a shit-ton of dialogue. Yes, there's some action to be had here but not a lot.
Also Death will not be making an appearance in this chapter, but look out for him in the next!
Disclaimer: I do not own Darksiders I or II or any other references to other lore.
Let's get to it, shall we?
Flashback:
Guard duty really wasn't suited for her at all...
A harsh sigh of boredom escaped her dry lips as she tapped her booted foot against the metal bars of the prison. She also forgot to mention she disliked prisons: way too many bad memories. But what could she do? She would do her job, regardless of the fact that one of her employers had missed the memo on how she was supposed to be an assassin instead of a fucking sentry.
A groan from her ward drew her attention.
"About time sleeping beauty. Seeing as you don't really have anything better to do right now, why not keep me company? I've been terribly bored."
She said in a casual tone as though this was someone she wasn't tasked to kill not but 24 hours prior.
Had the look she received been from anyone but the helpless, powerless, clueless young girl behind the metal bars her foot had taken a liking too, she might've regarded them with the slightest bit of wariness.
Then again, it was best not to underestimate a caged, threatened animal. She had made that terrible mistake with this child once before, and she wasn't the only one.
"I thought it was your job to kill me, assassin. You've had plenty of chances so why am I still alive?"
"That eager to die?"
"Answer the question."
She gave a derisive snort.
"Well brat, it seems that you've either got a lot of nerve or you're just really dense if you think you're in any position to make demands of me. Still, for the sake of keeping up this sorry excuse of a conversation, I suppose I'll humor you. Circumstances have changed. I've been told you're to remain alive, for the time being."
"Why? What's the meaning of this? I haven't done anything wrong and neither has Nate! Who the hell are you people? Are you even people, or are you all some kind of demon?!"
At that she couldn't stop the laughs that heaved their way through her lungs.
"Oh the irony! The demon calling us the demons! Oh you're too much kiddo, you really are!"
At the bewildered, albeit angered gaze her captive gave her, she sobered up. Hoisting herself off of her uncomfortable wooden chair she closed in on the space between her and the bars before kneeling to the child's level. The little girl sprang into a pathetic attempt at a defensive stance.
"You really don't remember anything do you?"
She could see the semi-remorseful expression on her own face reflected in the large halcyon eyes of the girl who looked at her with such uncertainty.
"Perhaps, this case of amnesia you've developed was for the best. After all, were you not happy in your blissful dream of normalcy where you could spend your hours frolicking about the grassy fields with those friends of yours as a normal village girl? Had it been to my decision, perhaps I would've granted you the clemency to continue living in that fantasy. But as you can see, such a quaint ending wasn't meant to be."
The child was quivering now in a myriad of emotions directed all towards her and her alone.
"You can hate and curse me as much as you want for the wakeup call, kiddo. You wouldn't be the first. Putting your aptitude for dumb luck aside, you could very well carry that hatred of me to your grave before living long enough to realize how misplaced that anger truly is."
A small hand lunged for her through the metal, way too slow and easy to dodge. Instead she caught the offending appendage and used it as leverage to pull the kid closer. She could sense the child's discomfort at their proximity, but couldn't bring herself to give a shit.
"Well sleeping beauty, if you feel like cursing anything then curse the cruel reality you've so recently woken up to. Because for every few lucky folk who get to live out their lives the way you wanted to there's a greater amount of unlucky people like yourself who don't get that chance. No, you haven't done anything wrong per se, not yet anyways, and neither has that friend of yours. You two just happened to be at the wrong place in the wrong time. That's life: not fair doesn't cover it, not by a long shot."
She squeezed the small wrist entrapped between her fingers.
"Here's a bit of friendly advice from someone who's been in your shoes: No one in the nine hells and heavens above ever said you have to take all of this bullshit lying down. Fight. Find the power that was unrightfully born unto you and use it to take control of your life. That very conflict is what defines what we are. You asked what I was, right? Well here's your answer: I'm someone who obtained power and chose to fight against my fate. I'm a Cherub."
She released the girl and stood up in one fluid motion. Now that the brat was conscious she needed to report back to her client for further instruction.
As she made for the exit she turned back to her prisoner who was staring into the stone lost in thought.
"Well Sonia Belmond, it was nice to formally get acquainted with you. I'm looking forward to see what you plan on doing, henceforth."
Two unseeing jade eyes cracked open under unrelenting eyelids. She willed down her initial surprise at the murky blackness which permeated her now terrible vision. It had been centuries since she could remember what it was like to be blind. Needless to say the regression was far from welcome. Her current condition reminded her too much of the person she was before she formed a contract with Nakim and became the Sharp Shooter.
Powerless helpless clueless, but unrelenting all the same…
Focusing on her functioning senses she managed to hop out of bed and maneuver herself out of Stark's main room without waking the sleeping denizens at her bedside. As easily as she could, she made her way to the upstairs balcony on the second floor of Stark's home. She silently thanked her resilient memory of being in this house before when her vision was perfect. Otherwise the endeavor for some fresh air would've ended in a hilarious mess. Stopping to glance at the closet she had been so recently cramped in, she contemplated giving the familiar still inside it a breath of fresh air.
No, not a good idea at the moment. She couldn't risk the off chance of it being seen by the lightly dozing horsewoman on the second story below.
She cautiously opened the double doors and sat in one of the mahogany chairs next to the rail, overlooking the entire city. She felt the smallest sensations of relief as the cool night wind danced over her. She could only imagine the visual appeal of the serenity she currently basked in.
It was the calm before the storm.
And when the storm came, she would have no choice but to run and hide until it blew over; like she did before she became a Cherub.
Fear of death in battle was something she'd thought she conquered long ago. After all, she was a killer. What killer would kill if they were afraid to be killed in return? But that was different. She had her flames, she had her guns, she had the power to fight back.
But now…
She purged that train of thought from her mind as a more pressing issue had made itself known from behind her.
"How long do you plan on skulking about like that, Sonia? I know I'm supposed to be beautiful but there's no need to be shy, especially among old friends right?"
She didn't need working eyes to envision the eye roll of a response the younger Cherub was doubtlessly giving her and her smart assed attitude.
"Can't sleep? You should try. Otherwise I'm taking back the bed."
"Be my guest, someone should use it. Seriously kid, I highly doubt you came up here to make pointless small talk. If you've got something to say then say it."
The relapse into ambiance was unexpected for Violet. The feel she got from it told her the kid was fishing for the right words, which was unlike her. It was when she opened her mouth for a retort that Sonia finally found her tongue.
"Well now that you mention it, I do. Back then, why didn't you kill me? You said that circumstances had changed. I never got around to asking you what you meant by that. Despite popular opinion, I haven't been spending all of these decades idle. I've done my research and I know about all your involvement with a certain notorious assassination group. You were hired to kill me and yet here I stand. I'm pretty sure that failure didn't sit well with everyone else."
Violet rolled her dead eyes.
"If you knew all about my involvement as you so tactfully put it, you wouldn't need to ask me that question. Can I assume my answer is the primary reason why you've been so inclined to help me out despite our past history?"
"You mean when you tried to kill me. That was a long time ago Violet."
"Yes and some people hold onto things like that."
"After all the times we've been stuck fighting together since that time you're saying this?"
Violet shot a shrewd look in her general direction.
"Wow just wow. From enemy to friend in only a few hundred years? Hell, you're even sticking your neck out for me! It's so sweet I think I'm going to barf. You can be corny at times Sonia but even you're not that corny. As grateful as I am for your help I'd be even more grateful if you'd stop dodging my question with bullshit."
Sonia groaned in exasperation. Typical Violet: lousy no-nonsense personality. If the young Cherub time traveled four hundred years back to her previous self and told her that by some divine prank, she'd save the life of the very woman who nearly killed her on several occasions; her past persona would've laughed herself stupid.
"Don't flatter yourself woman. I was having my own set of troubles with these Black Riders long before I learned of your predicament. Let's just say you lucked out, as your situation happened to coincide with my investigation. Besides, if I hadn't come to your aid who would? If there's one Cherub who's considered to be just as detestable of an existence as myself then it's you, Miss former-assassin. I'm asking this of you now because I feel there is no better time to do so. Though I will say, it might hinder your chances of survival to deny me a proper answer."
Violet's indulgent laugh gracelessly annihilated any remnants of serenity the atmosphere once possessed.
"Well lookie here, the kitten has finally figured out how to use her claws! It looks like the abilities you garnered from your sadist of a master weren't just limited to arcane arts and physical combat. Now to answer your question…"
She rested her chin on her hand and tapped her foot restlessly in a gesture of thought. As always with Violet, Sonia couldn't determine if the behavior was genuine or mocking."
"Before I am and ever was an assassin, I am a Cherub. If there's one thing that I learned from our past, less-than-friendly-encounters, it was that."
"…"
Silence…
"Wait…that's it?"
"Yep. That would be the short version. If you want to hear the longer version then I guess you're gonna have to make sure I'm still alive by the end of this hell-spawn of a situation."
Oh how she wished she could see the no doubt, dumfounded look her "savior" was giving her right now.
"Are you fucking kidding me? I asked you to clarify, not to befuddle me further with this equivocal nonsense!"
"You asked me what I meant by circumstances had changed and I told you, albeit in an ambiguous way. If you're so desperate to know more then I've no doubt you'll bail me out of this mess somehow. Considering the fact that you even remembered that conversation hundreds of years back, I'd say you want to know my full answer pretty badly."
"God in heaven strike me down for my terrible judgment. I've stuck my neck out for a completely cryptic, asshole!"
Violet laughed at the ridiculous declaration spurning on the tom-foolery with a theatrical bow sent in Sonia's general direction.
"My pleasure darling. Well, mind games aside, I'm going back to bed. Jesus knows what sort of devilry awaits us in the approaching morning and you've killed the mood quite nicely with your nosy personality."
Violet stood up and stretched her limbs as Sonia made a noise in disgruntlement.
"If it weren't for my nosy personality as you so eloquently put it, you'd be a roast right about now."
Sonia was rewarded with an unintelligible response followed by a whimsical wave of her partner's hand. As Violet descended down the flight of stairs, Sonia called out to her in a cocky voice.
"At the very least you're back to the Violet I know. Someone like you with a devil-may-care attitude to even the most unfavorable of scenarios shouldn't act so unnerved. I daresay you were starting to act like me for a second there and that's just downright disturbing. Oh and now that this is the best chance I'm going to have in a lifetime, let me throw some of your ideology back at you: you're only as powerless as you feel. Just because you don't like your situation doesn't mean you have to accept it or as you say 'no one in the nine hells and heavens above said you had to take this shit lying down!'"
She ended her monologue mimicking Violet's caustic voice. Yes, it was childish, but it got the point across.
For all the things Violet could've said to her declaration it was her silence that spoke volumes to Sonia more than her wise cracking words ever could.
And certainly more than the middle finger Violet sent her way from over her shoulder.
No matter how horrible of a personality Strife possessed, he was sharp, especially when it came to magic. Reluctantly, Nathaniel had to give him credit for that as they moved ever so closer to the inner sanctum of the grounds. Yesterday he and his fellow horseman had wondered why the White Rider had been so jumpy and today they had an idea of the answer.
It was some sort of unrestricted system designed to ward off intruders. The feelings of unease had spread to both himself and War before he deduced that it had to be the workings of an outside magic. Still, he was mildly surprised he hadn't noticed it sooner. Unrestricted spells were a form of sorcery entirely unique to the Cherubim. As a Cherub he should've developed an awareness to it far sooner.
"Be on your guard Nate Reever. Not even the most courageous of the Cherubim would dare to set foot in the grounds you're headed for. The magic that flows through the land, though mostly dead, is ancient and completely alien to the Cherubim of today's age."
Suddenly Stark's words seemed to hold a more disturbing clarity for the white haired Cherub.
If it hadn't been for the Orgel's guidance who knows what would've happened to us.
Still, there was one more thing unsettling about their situation and that was the Red Rider's current temperament. The normally stern but otherwise tranquil aura was all but replaced by something dense and bloodthirsty. It disturbed him and he had the gut feeling the change in the horseman's mood wasn't mainly because of the mysterious unrestricted system that saturated this accursed land.
Strife had sensed the change in his brother as well.
"If something is troubling you War then speak up. I hardly see the point in skulking about the way you're doing right now with such an unfriendly aura."
Inwardly, Nathaniel sweat dropped.
Wow what a way with words you have, White Rider! As expected from the embodiment of Strife…
"Right now our sister may be in danger. We have no idea what in the nine hells is going on and rather than going to a more reliable source of information, we're out here in this forsaken dessert with no promise of any answers. Forgive me if contemplating the possibility of this all being a wild goose chase has sullied my mood."
Nathaniel raised a brow at the nasty tone and inwardly flinched when Strife stopped, spun on his heel to face his brother.
Oh shit…
"What are you, channeling Death now? From the start we've known there's a possibility of coming back empty handed but are we really in a position to leave any potential oversights? Wake up War; you're not entirely yourself right now! It's insulting to think you'd be so easily affected by the magic here."
War sneered in a way that Nathaniel couldn't help but think, didn't look right on the horseman's face.
"Speak for yourself Strife; you're the one who's been so obsessed with this place. And speaking of Death I'm pretty sure he's the one who's got a better idea of what's happening than we do. Not that you'll ever get past that delicate ego of yours and admit that."
Within a span of seconds Mercy, Redemption, and Chaoseater were drawn to the forefront of the conflict.
"Forget what I said about waking up on your own War. Instead why not allow me to beat some sense into that overly thick head of yours!"
Okay this is getting out of hand!
Nathaniel swiftly stepped in between them before either one could launch an attack against the other.
"Enough you two, considering we're not that far from the grounds as is, bickering at this point will do us no good whatsoever!"
"Move it kid, my younger brother needs a lesson," Strife growled as he pointed Redemption at Nathaniel's torso.
"I refuse. And before you think of pulling that trigger remember who was the one to get you both this far in the first place! Without a Cherub to utilize the power of the Orgel your journey will end here."
Before Strife could get so much as a syllable out in response both the ground and the skies above trembled and distorted with power causing all three of them to nearly lose their footing in the aftershock.
"What the hell is going on?!"
Nathaniel bellowed out to the horsemen hoping his voice carried over the noise of shifting tectonic plates.
"The hostility in our auras must've triggered some sort of trap set inside this unrestricted system!" Strife shouted back to the boy. Yellow eyes widened in comprehension of what was to come.
A sandstorm of incredible magnitude was headed their way. It was way too chaotic to exist in nature. Strife could all but hear the ancient chants of the Cherubim from a bi-gone age through the enormous amounts of mana generated by the approaching tempest.
"Kid! The Orgel! Quick!"
Nathaniel didn't need to be told twice. Stowing away his panic, he put all of his mental concentration into the unrestricted spell Stark gave him. A large orb of energy engulfed the three of them just as they were thrown off their feet by the terrible storm.
"About damn time boy! Had you been any slower we would've been torn to tiny bits about now," Strife called out to him, though the harsh tone was far from what Nathaniel expected.
Something delicate and relatively strained inside Nathaniel snapped at that moment.
"You're welcome horseman! Need I remind you of who it was that got us into this situation in the first place! Jesus, haven't you people ever heard of making a point without making an enemy!"
"Dammit boy, you pick now of all times to lose your composure?!"
The White Rider gestured towards the cracks appearing in their makeshift barrier and Nathaniel felt his stomach drop to his feet.
"What are you gawking at? Hurry up and fix the damn thing will you!"
"I can't."
From the corner of his eye Nathaniel saw the hand Strife was holding Mercy was twitching with held back irritation.
"What the hell do you mean by that?"
"Conjuring up a pre-existing unrestricted spell is easy enough for any Cherub but fixing one for me is out of the question. I'm not magically inclined like Stark or Violet. In fact, compared to the majority of the Cherubim my mana supply is quite lacking so even if I could it would do little good."
Before Nathaniel could contemplate where Strife was going to pop him one with Mercy, War had risen from his sitting position and drew Chaoseater in an en garde stance.
Please tell me he's not going to do what I think he's going to do…
"What in the hell brother?! Are you trying to get us ki-!"
A loud battle cry from the Red Rider had cut his brother off mid-response. Before Nate could begin to contemplate what inevitable calamity would take place next, he and Strife were literally swept of their feet by a fiery creature in place of the white haired horseman.
That was the last thing Nathaniel Reever could envision before blackness swept across his sights.
Crimson…
The world was bathed in it…
Well, at the very least, the world he was lost in…
Whether it was the life blood flowing freely in rivers upon the ground or the encircling flames from the heavens above, it was everywhere.
His body ached with strain and fatigue but his mind was sharp and rank with fear and anguish. As best as he could, he hauled himself up and began to walk. He had to find her. He had to protect her. He swore he would: to himself and to the comrades who died for them.
His heart leapt in relief and joy upon seeing her form. He called out for her and willed his leaden legs into a run. But as he got closer to her he realized something was so horribly wrong. A sudden pressure took hold of him, stopping him mid stride. He fell to his knees in revulsion of the ghastly aura that threatened to overtake him. He looked up and froze.
This was not her…
A woman with crimson eyes and hair in a crimson shroud stared back at him with a vacant expression in her blood colored eyes.
This wasn't Sonia…
This was the Red Witch…
The Witch raised her arms and that's when he got a good look at the long red blade in her hands.
Just before the sword severed his head his vision shifted once more.
This time he awoke to the sounds of rattling chains: the chains around his feet and hands. There were also people. They flanked him on both sides as though to prevent him from running away.
Running away from what?
The journey was long and it took them through several well lit hallways with runes of ancient languages he couldn't begin to fathom scrawled on the walls. Then they came to an enormous door. The seal upon it was way too intricate to be the work of one mage. One of the guards raised his hand and an orb of light similar to the Orgel rose up and flew into the magic circle inscribed upon the door. The seals gave way and the door opened for them. What he saw on the other side instilled a great fear in him.
It was her, the Red Witch, chained to a slab of stone and bound by an intricate set of unrestricted spells.
Even if this was the Red Witch, the woman he loved was still a part of her. He opened out his mouth in a loud protest but no sound came out.
The last thing he saw was what looked like a great door to a diabolical dimension being opened up, ready to swallow all.
He sprung forth and gasped loudly, seemingly starved for the sticky air his lungs were rewarded with.
A dream…a terrifying one but just a dream. Wait…where the hell am I?
His head whipped back and forth as he, somewhat frantically, took in his surroundings. He was in a dessert and nearly buried in a huge mound of sand.
Oh right…
"Hey! Horsemen! Are you two still in one piece?!"
Silence…
Nathaniel couldn't see either of the riders anywhere among the planes of sand his red eyes skimmed across. That is, until he saw a bullet fly through one particularly thick dune accompanied by a loud BANG that made him wince.
Only a few moments later, did the Rider of Strife emerge from its depths with an aura that oozed irritation.
"Don't you get crazy on me as well brat. I've got my hands full already with my hothead of a brother. And on that note thank you so much War for that reckless move on your part. Now thanks to that I've got sand in places I didn't even know I had."
Nathaniel rolled his eyes at the antics of the White Rider.
Moments later a gigantic sword burst through another sea of sand just behind Nathaniel, making him jump. Using Chaoseater as leverage the Red Rider all but vaulted out of the mound with sand flowing out of his hood and armor in torrents. The hostility he previously housed was all but gone as though it was burnt out of him.
"Be grateful you're still alive Strife. That sandstorm was much more powerful than I anticipated. It took every ounce of strength and mana in my possession to plow through it; especially with two helpless comrades on either hip."
War would've sounded much more menacing had the exhaustion not been so apparent in his tone. Offhandedly Nathaniel wondered how powerful the mages and Cherubim of old truly were if one of their spells could take this much from a Horseman of the Apocalypse.
I guess there's a reason the few remaining Cherubim from those ancient ages are considered to be the strongest among us. Last time I checked, Asiz, The Prince of Light, was Babylonian.
He stopped his musings right there before they wandered into dangerous territory and turned his gaze to the two horsemen who seemed to be conversing amongst themselves. Considering the tension in their conversation they were probably arguing something serious though Nate doubted they would draw their weapons on one another again.
I think…
He sweat dropped when they began to raise their voices to one another.
Well even if they don't look that much alike you can totally tell by their tempers they're siblings.
He forced himself not to think of the siblings he once had as a normal human from long ago. Instead he wondered why War was as agitated as he was earlier. Even if he didn't know the horseman well at all, he knew that the rider's previous actions were definitely out of character.
He was able to guess at his answer when he saw the arcane blade from before pass from War's hand to Strife's.
That's when he took note of a giant structure towering over them not but a few hundred paces ahead. Just from looking he could tell that they had finally reached their destination.
Well this must what be what they call dumb luck…
Magi sure are haughty creatures.
Maybe it's because they can do what other men cannot. The mundane world of the normal man cannot touch them with their otherworldly abilities. Thus they created for themselves their own set of laws and principals.
Yet for some reason this did not abate their arrogance.
Or was it a sense of loneliness? There were some, not many, but some magi that felt as though the kingdom of man, where magic was more legend than truth, was not meant for them.
Faustus was one such man. Even after becoming a Cherub, it still wasn't enough for him. He wanted to touch the realm of the divine, somehow, in some way.
So he created her…
Chains…
Many massive chains…
They surround my body…
I can feel them in my spirit…
But why? What's their purpose?
He locked her away in a lonely place existing somewhere in between this world and the worlds beyond: like a crossroad in between dimensions.
He called it the Gravekeeper's Palace.
I was proof of that man's damnation.
I was never supposed to exist in the first place.
It's here in this sad dimension where I spend my days stealing and being stolen from…
The dream was as startling to her as the awakening.
Feeling was the first thing to flood into her before realization.
She held in her hands, the cursed blade of her destiny that she must've drawn in the process of waking up. She was breathing hard and the sweat running down her body wasn't the best of sensations. The stone was murder on her rear.
Wait…Stone?
Stark's floor isn't made of stone.
Shit…
She pinched her arm.
No pain…Fuck me, I'm still dreaming!
Somewhat fuzzily, she took in her surroundings.
Another vision from the past, eh? Wait…this place isn't the Gravekeeper's Palace.
Though she had to marvel at the similarities…This place had the same levels of mana surging through the area. The floating island structures were reminiscent to her as well. Same colored sky.
Same lonely atmosphere…
I can only assume this is another one of those realms in between dimensions.
She took notice of the land she half laid upon. It seemed to be the biggest of these islands. The stone archways and buildings were reminiscent of a lost town or a palace. Like the Gravekeeper's palace they had an otherworldly majesty to them.
As she stood the skies began to darken to a ghastly color, and the ground trembled violently beneath her feet.
At that point she saw shadows spider forth from every visible crevice in the structures around her. Except unlike normal shadows these things were…alive. Not sentient. But they had an aura only living creatures could possess. And from that aura she felt a terrible hunger. If these were creatures they were starving. They had taken to devouring all the touched.
And no doubt she was next…
Well, talk about going from one bad dream to the next…Wake up Sonia. Waaaake up.
"Over here!"
The familiarity of the voice calling out to her was astonishing. Her head whipped in the direction of that soothing tenor. She felt a tightening in her heart at the sight she was greeted with.
Eren…
The boy in question stood a good ten feet from her person and was giving her a gentle smile that was painful for her to look upon.
So long ago when she felt like nothing more than a regular girl, he had been in training with Nathaniel. They were all friends with one another, and he dreamed of being a knight along with her lover.
And she was the one to prematurely take that wish from him…
To see his face again isn't so bad actually.
He was making huge gestures with his arms. Apparently, he wanted her to follow him. She ran after the boy just as the shadows tried to make a grab for her. As soon as she was within a personal distance of him he took off again, leaving her with no other option but to follow him.
Well this is a weird dream.
She realized she had spoken aloud when the boy running in front of her turned around and flashed her that heartbreaking smile.
"Weird yes, but it has its purpose…Just go with it okay?"
His words threw her off, but she was left little time to ponder them when the walls they were running alongside began to give way to the monsters devouring them.
"Hurry Sonia!"
She ignored the unpleasant nostalgia inevitably branded within the urgent pitch of his voice and sped on; catching up to his side within little time.
Where are we going Eren? And what's chasing us?!
"I will explain when we arrive."
Arrive where? Eren is this really the time to be cry-!
She lost her words when her gaze traveled skyward to the enormous tree that towered over even the tallest of edifices within this ancient realm. She heard an unearthly shriek behind her and turned to see the shadows had stopped in their tracks. It's was as though some enigmatic presence had them too frightened to approach.
"The call this tree the Tree of Knowledge, Sonia."
Her gaze turned back to Eren who was stroking the trunk of the giant plant with some semblance of affection.
Then this place is—
"Eden, that is correct. Or more accurately, what's left of it."
A closed gate with engravings had appeared where his hand was on the center of the tree.
"Do you know what these symbols are Sonia?"
He gestured to the topmost part of the gigantic entryway. Three Symbols adorned the archway above the towering doors.
To the left door was what looked to be the visage of a bird with its wings spread as though in flight. A cross belie just above the creature, nearly encompassed by the span of wings surrounding it. To the right door was the sigil of a snake looping in on itself, nearly eating its own tail in the process. It also had a cross. The holly symbol was embedded within the open space the middle of the serpentine circle it had forged. And finally the keystone had what looked to be some sort of horse embracing yet another cross in its center.
I recognize the cross in each of them but nothing more. I don't understand Eren. What am I supposed to be looking at?
The boy sighed before responding.
"I would've been surprised if you knew. Save for that which you children of men call a "Cross" these symbols have been lost for eons."
He turned to face her.
"There once existed a hierarchy among the Seraphim that you humans fight alongside to this day. These three sigils are representations of the ones who stood at the top. These three were once the guardians to the throne of creation."
Humans…children of men…
Realization dawned upon her.
You're not Eren are you? You may have his looks and his voice but the Eren I knew would never speak like that. If you've got something to say to me, then you can drop that distasteful parlor trick!
Even if this was a dream, Sonia couldn't fight the anger simmering in her chest. The impostor sighed in slight annoyance before regarding her again.
"It was my intention for you to see through me at some point. I'm sorry for this disgraceful form. My true visage isn't exactly something your young mind could come close to envisioning. I had little choice but to take the form of a person buried in your memories."
The voice that spoke to her was neither male nor female. Just the sound of its unusual tone made Sonia temporarily forget her agitation.
"My true name, in your tongue, would be Shahaer. I represent the topmost symbol on this tablet. Until recent events I was housed inside what has been called by this Creation the 'Tree of Knowledge'. For the longest of times my flame had borne its bountiful fruit. It was my essence that had sustained this vessel and protected it from the ruin that had befallen this sacred garden long ago when the first humans were cast out for trying to tap into its power."
A Seraphim…one as old and as powerful as this one was communicating to her through a mental link. That could only be possible if…
Where are you right now? The only way any Seraph could make a mental link with a person is if they're close in proximity.
Shahaer beamed at her, obviously pleased with her observation.
"Recall that I said I 'was' housed inside the Tree of Knowledge. Sometime ago I was forced to escape. So that my powers could never fall into the hands of the Abyss, and that dreadful being, I had to by choosing the most suitable vessel within my reach."
Sonia already had an idea of what this Seraph was getting to, but shook her head at its impossibility.
There's no way. No human being could handle the presence of two Seraphim within her spirit. Much less a Seraph of your level…
"Who said I had hidden myself within just 'her' spirit?"
Though it was faint, Sonia could feel the approaching darkness.
"This plane of existence called 'Creation' is completely foreign to us. We the Seraphim have no physical form in this universe. In these barely spiritual forms we are forced to either hibernate, or take refuge inside a living being capable of containing our existence."
Though barely there, Sonia could begin to feel the ground beneath her feet quiver.
"The Creator, my lord and master, had given me the Tree of Life as my vessel. In exchange for living on within its roots, I was to sustain its life-force. Additionally this tree is but one of three. And all of them are connected. When one falls, the others will eventually follow."
A loud crash had broken off Shahaer's monologue and Sonia could feel more than hear the approaching shadows.
"Looks like I'm running out of time. In order to escape the Abyss which hunted me I had stored myself within the respective spirits of young Violet and her partner. But as I feared this arrangement cannot last. It won't be long before the Tree of Knowledge loses what little life it has left, and it won't be long before my powers eventually kill the two I reside in. You've already seen it have you not? Your friend is weakening, and so is her contractor. If I am not restored to the Tree of Knowledge before it falls my existence will continue to corrode both of them from the inside."
She didn't catch the rest of what Shahaer said for the darkness sprung at both of them like a pack of starved wolves; encompassing the two of them in their wake.
The magical circuit on her arm burned in frenzy. The magic her master had bestowed upon her, Magia Erebea, was reacting to the shadows around them. She couldn't stop the savage thoughts running through her head. The evil around her was seeping into her strained sub-consciousness. It was looking for that part of her weak to its advances.
Power is a parasite…it latches onto its victim, be they willing or not. It feeds on that person's strength with sickly sweet words and the hidden promise of inevitable damnation.
Seraphim are parasites…I never wanted this. I had no choice. It was born unto me, this detestable power of mine.
In a futile attempt to block the voice echoing in her mind she clasped both hands over her ears.
I'll be damned if I succumb to these self-piteous thoughts of a me with a broken past and a broken future!
Even as she shouted the declaration aloud, she knew she was in a bind. She had to figure out a way to break the link between her and the shadows surrounding her, as they threatened to overtake her consequences.
Ahhh Dammit! Think Sonia think!
In her desperation a white hot pain ran up her left arm. The sheer amount of power surging through the circuit was swelling to intensely painful levels.
Shit as if things couldn't get any worse! Damn you Seraph, bringing your shit where it's not wanted!
She heard a faint chuckle from the Seraph in question. Even if it wasn't her old friend just the sound of his voice in merriment, abated her anger if only the tiniest bit.
"I did not come into your consciousness lightly, child. One of the main reasons why I chose to make contact with you is because of your affiliation with the arcane arts. Instead of succumbing to your emotions, why not look to your master's teachings, for therein lies the answer to your conundrum."
The voice faded out and she knew that what was left of Shahaer's consciousness was gone. Slippery bastard of a Seraph…
But he was right. As Evangeline once said, the Erebea obtains its power from the darkness integral in everything. But could she utilize its power in this situation without running the risk of being swallowed whole by its madness?
She let out a generous amount of air she didn't realize she was holding in and raised her arm to the heavens she could no longer see within the pitch black chasm the shadows had trapped her in.
As Nate would say nothing ventured, nothing gained.
SLAP!
On reflex she jolted and blinked back the tears brought forth by the stinging sensation of a hand repeatedly assaulting the side of her face.
"I think she's awake now…"
Stark's uncertain voice passed through her ringing ears from some obscure side of the room. As her thoughts became more concise two things in particular came to her attention.
Firstly, she was laying on something only slightly softer than the hardwood floor she remembered sleeping on.
Secondly, her cheek hurt like hell.
"If you've finally decided to wake up then can you please do me the favor of getting off my lap. Or perhaps you want me to slap you again."
On instinct,she sprang into action to avoid the incoming clawed hand soaring her way. Rolling out of the danger she brought her small form into a crouch before the person in front of her.
Or more like, the heavily agitated horsewoman glaring at her with an expression that clearly said she wouldn't have minded landing another blow to the side of her aching face. Inwardly, she flinched at the harshness the rider was emanating before feeling her own irritation boiling to the surface.
"Okay, seriously? Did I look like I was having your typical dream? You didn't have to hit me multiple times you know. Especially since you knew if it didn't work the first time then it wasn't going to work the second or the third or…Jesus rider, how many times did you hit me anyway?! Fuck this hurts!"
Fury shrugged.
"I lost count. Quit your whining Cherub, I'm pretty sure you can handle a little pain. Besides you got lucky by waking up when you did. Any longer and you would've tasted my claws as well."
Sonia groaned as Fury drummed her clawed fingers together in an ominous way, a devilish smirk ever present on her elegant features.
I wonder if the other horsemen share her morbid sense of humor.
She didn't get to muse on that thought for very long as a tremor literally rippled through her being and through the atmosphere around her. Stark's features darkened significantly as he made to grab some of the talismans he stored in his desk. Fury sprang to her feet, whip in hand. Her once humored expression twisted into a fearsome snarl.
"We've got company."
Forgetting about the ache in her cheek Sonia threw on her Yogasa cloak hanging on the bedpost, noting the vacancy of the structure it held up. Violet must've already made herself scarce. She could feel her faint aura coming from Stark's room on the second floor.
Even without her powers she's a grown ass woman capable of taking care of herself. No point in worrying. Better to focus on the task at hand.
The auras that hit the long-haired Cherub and the horsewoman as the two rushed outside, took them both by surprise. Following the outpour of the decrepit energies her gaze landed on three foes in particular, staring down at them from the rooftop of the home directly in front of them.
Though their mounts weren't present, they didn't look any different from the riders Sonia had encountered before. However she couldn't shake the feeling these enemies were anything but the run-of-the-mill Black Rider.
"They're not your typical Black Riders are they? The cretins I fought against didn't have an aura as nearly as menacing as these guys."
She spoke aloud to the horsewoman beside her, whom returned her observation with a snort.
"Yet the stink of it remains unmistakably the same."
A diabolical, albeit arrogant laugh, boomed down at them.
"To think that the Cherub would notice before the Rider of the Black Horse. Have the remnants of the Nephilim really fallen so low under the council's leash? Or perhaps you've yet to properly recover from the taste of my blade?"
The cloaks enshrining each of their adversaries dissipated as shadows would upon the arrival of the morning sun. More than ever Sonia could see the armaments that adorned their forms underneath the shadowy veil of their cloaks. The steel was rusted in some places and completely black in others with arcane scripture running down the plating.
Wait those markings are… circuits? With a design as intricate and distasteful as that they would have to be. And they're arcane type to boot. Still, a circuit of this nature only works on a living being. Don't tell me that armor is actually a living part of their bodies?!"
The bloodthirsty spike in the horsewoman's aura had drawn her from her thoughts in addition to demanding the undivided attention of the opposing entities above them.
"That's the bastard who got me the last time," Fury hissed through clenched teeth.
Sonia followed her murderous gaze to the rider in the center.
A small part of her inwardly flinched when the rider drew her whip from her waist in a matter of seconds, cracking it against the ground in the process. Bolts of forceful electricity crackled to life upon the leather and the amount of mana the weapon exhumed was equally intense.
The middlemost rider Fury referred to drew a long black blade that had markings identical in both shape and hue to the one from last night. Sonia didn't have to look at the blade to know it was of arcane make. The two riders flanking him followed suit.
"Truthfully I'm surprised you managed to overcome the powers invested into one of my arcane blades. You do well to live up to your title as a Rider of the Apocalypse. However I've got a title as well, and so does this blade in my hands. I am an Abyssal Lord of the Fallen and this blade is Umbra; Sister to the blade that pierced through your flesh not but two nights go. My business is with the Azure Flame, not with the likes of you two, unless you're both to stand in my way."
"Do you even need to ask," Fury retorted.
"I suppose I don't. Be warned horsewoman: whatever miracle that had allowed you to live through our previous encounter will henceforth be of little use to you. Once I know of a mistake, it isn't a mistake any longer."
"Don't insult me, Oh-So-High-And-Mighty-Abyssal-Lord-of-the-Fallen. You're not the only one here with that ability."
The horsewoman shot back at the self-proclaimed lord before turning to regard her partner.
"I'll take the asshole in the middle while you handle the two lackeys on the side. If you get through with them quick enough then you can cover me but I'll finish this guy with my own two hands, got it?"
"You think you can handle it?"
Fury scoffed at the question.
"Don't be stupid Cherub. I am Fury: Rider of the Black Horse and one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. You tell me."
Recalling her battle with Death she allowed any doubt to dissipate. She drew her blade from within her cloak and assumed an offensive stance alongside the rider.
"Just try not to slow me down Cherub. Creator forbid you stumble into a deep sleep within the midst of battle, and get yourself killed because I'm not feeling benevolent enough to smack you awake."
Sonia rolled her eyes at the horsewoman's remark, before regarding the her with an aggressive smirk.
"Dully noted. Oh-and my name isn't 'Cherub'. It's Sonia. Sonia Belmond, the Red Witch at your service."
With that the fight began…
To be continued…
A/N:
Quite nicely confused about what the hell is going on just yet? Stick around it gets worse. That said I do plan on answering most of your questions by the end of this story.
Uegh, I had my doubts about leaving things off right here but this monster of a Chappie's quite long enough that and I'm self-conscious about its existance as a whole already. Aside from important plot devices this chap was mainly a prelude to the upcoming shit storm in the chapters ahead.
That and I wanted to get in some character development for some of the more important OCs because why the hell not X)
You know the drill, if you like what you see or have questions/ criticisms leave me some feedback! Fave, follow or review please and thank you!
Animefreak114 Clocking Out!