Ravendor stared at the ground, forcing his body to conceal the small trembles that spread throughout his system at the retelling of that memory. It had been over ten years ago, but it seemed far, far closer than that. The bandit leader knew that according to a small and easily frightened part of his mind, he had never left that era of time. That fragment of him had stayed behind, and in it's place, the programming that the Council had forced inside his head lingered, in the shape of Project Dark Angel. The hated and most despised part of his soul, who had followed orders without a moment's hesitation, performed the most sordid acts on command, and enjoyed every single moment of it.
"So there you have it." He rasped, his throat feeling dry and scratchy, his voice sounding wounded and unsure. "That is what I have become after such modifications and torture. I will never forget the torture. I am only one out of five people who can remember Filgaia before Yggdrasil stole away the memories of the humans and ate part of Filgaia's soul in an attempt to revitalize one small area of her surface. I am the last, and most powerful Prophet…" He smiled ironically, his mind connecting onto one small part of his programming. "I am the one who will carry out the will of God."
Clive had been silent throughout all of this revelation, but the way he was gripping his sword suggested a great pressure was being placed upon the metal, focussing his emotional response on that one small part of his body. When he spoke, it was with great deliberation and thought. "I wondered, as I traveled to this place in search of my daughter, as to why, after eleven years of continued life, that you did not try to contact us and if you avoided Catherine and I on purpose. I see the reason for your absence now. Ravendor, such a terrible thing was never meant to happen… If I had known about it, I-"
"Would have done something about it?" Ravendor suggested with a crooked smile, amused at Clive's reaction. "It does not matter anymore. After all, nobody can change the past. I suppose there are some upsides to this shape at times, upsides that a mere human cannot have. Do you understand the true origin of the human race? Humans are merely demons before their completion, a lower and far weaker branch of the demon race. Almost worthless." He glanced at Virginia and the others like a duke would look upon scraggily peasants, with utter distaste. "In the will and vision of the one God, which composes all of the Guardians wishes, humans are a corrupt abhorrence which must be cleansed, preferably, by the fires of Hades."
"Ravendor…" Catherine finally spoke, making a motion that looked like she was trying to reach out to him, which broke off halfway. "You honestly don't mean that… do you? You… you were born as a human, just like the rest of us. I know humans have done horrible things to one another, but in all the sin we have accumulated, there is still some innocence in there… somewhere…" As she said this, her eyes strayed to Kaitlyn, quietly shedding tears by Ravendor's side. The only desire she had was to run to her daughter and hold her, but Ravendor's presence held her back, because it radiated a cold kind of animosity and bitterness, as though his aura was repelling her.
"Perhaps so, Catherine, but in the majority, humans are such pathetic, disgusting creatures." Ravendor said acidly, forcing himself to look at a rock that was slightly off center from Clive and the others. "They desire only what they cannot have, and when they realise this fact, they mutilate the object of their desire and weaken it, taking it then by force. Filgaia has suffered for so long due to the arrival of the human race, this planet was green once, and water flowed in great amounts to make oceans. Filgaia is a shadow of her former self, and she cries out to be released from the chains that humanity has forged for her, and I for one can ignore her cries no longer. Humans are responsible for this, and so it is the humans that shall pay." He removed his hold on Kaitlyn momentarily, taking note of Virginia, Jet, Gallows and Dario all lined up a small distance behind Clive and Catherine. He did not require their presence anymore.
He clenched his fist tightly for a few moments, concentrating, and dark reddish arcs of electricity burst into life and trailed around his arm, doubling back and collecting in his palm once he opened his hand again, the runes along his arm glowing as the technique was activated. The electricity took the shape of a few of the runes, and Ravendor said something foreign and arcane softly underneath his breath, making Clive stiffen a little as he caught the meaning of some of the words. Jumpstarted, the lightning flew out of his palm and struck like a thunderbolt at an area of the ceiling above their heads, a hideous boom of thunder echoing out throughout the entire room. Pebbles shattered by the lightning began to rain down upon the Maxwell Gang, Jet looked up and in his weakened state he cursed feebly, he guessing what was going to happen next, but had not the strength to prevent it. Gallows cursed as well, but it was louder and more frantic. Virginia was silent in her revelation and Dario threw himself onto the floor, his hands over his head and shaking.
Boulders fell and smashed into the ground with a veritable avalanche of momentum and sound, on top of the four humans that stood beneath it, pulverizing, crushing and grinding the fragile bodies underneath. Catherine turned and let out a small cry of horror, prevented of running to them by Clive's hand holding her wrist, keeping her next to him. The swordsman did not turn around, though it pained him deeply to act so coldheartedly. The only thing that he could do was pray that Virginia, who bore the earth medium, had acted in time. Clive had an urge to straighten his glasses, which he did not carry out because both his hands were occupied with his weapon and his wife, and he did not take his eyes off Ravendor who stood in front and above him. The-dark haired man laughed. "And so it all returns to soil." He said calmly, spreading his arms and wings.
The swordsman was no longer in the mood for fun and games. This had gone on for far too long. He had had enough. "Well, that is very impressive, Ravendor." Clive said trivially. "But it is no more than what a bearer of the medium can accomplish. I don't doubt that you can do better, but I urge you to get to a point. What is it that you want?" Ravendor did not answer verbally, but turned his head to the right, pointing to the left side of his face, where the demon writing had been written there, like an excerpt from a book of arcane magic.
Clive narrowed his eyes as he read over the fragment of runic text branded onto Ravendor's cheek, concentrating a little because his demon linguistics were rather rusty from misuse. Deciphering the sentence took a few good seconds, and the swordsman clenched his fists tightly, automatically holding his breath. Those words had obviously been tattooed there by somebody with only a basic knowledge of the language, but it still made grammatical sense. "Sefirot floor two, Yggdrasil level two. Crown two. Yesod, form of Yesod, death angel. Project Dark Angel. God's Messenger of darkness and air. Isotope, Yhvh Tzabaoth. Engineer, Malik Benedict." He moved his lips in the formation of the sentence but did not make a sound, physically feeling the colour drain from his own face. There was more, much more, but he did not repeat this part aloud. It was far too terrible. He now had a slightly clearer idea why Ravendor hated him so. "Malik?" Clive questioned softly to Ravendor, without any hatred or revulsion in his voice. "Oh my Guardians… I didn't think, I mean… you-" He would have never known, but it seemed that Malik liked to gloat about his work. In his surprise he let go of Catherine's hand, and the woman ran to the others, buried under a heap of rock and stone.
"Do not say anything more." Ravendor hissed icily, digging his claws into Kaitlyn's shoulder deeply enough to make her whimper pitifully. He realised what he was doing and loosened his grip half a second later, but the glare he was giving Clive was unmistakable. Not even the devil himself could have glowered so darkly. "If you mention Malik to me so casually like that, if you even say his name to me one more time, I will not just kill your daughter, I'll tear her limb from limb." His voice was almost trembling with restrained emotion, pure anger. However, a blush was spreading across Ravendor's cheeks and underneath his tattoos, Clive's understanding had struck a very deep vein. What Malik had forced him to do when he had no free will was horrible enough, the thought of Clive knowing about it as well, instilled enough anger and rage in Ravendor's heart. But instead, he half-smiled, which in itself was almost terrifying to look at. "So, you can read demonic script? I did not know that. Hah, you actually have something to work to your advantage, at least now you will not have the odds so horribly against you."
He picked up the little girl in front of him and leapt effortlessly down to meet the others, wanting to speak with them on the same level of ground. After setting Kaitlyn back onto the floor, he lingered a bit and whispered something quietly in her ear, words that only Kaitlyn was supposed to hear. "When I let go of your shoulder, Kaitlyn, I want you to run as fast as you can over to your mother, and do not look back. Do you understand me?" She nodded slightly after a few seconds and Ravendor straightened, taking in a calming breath and sizing them all up. Clive unsheathed his sword, but the look on his face was no longer one of anger or hatred, it almost looked pitying. Ravendor clenched his teeth. Was Clive pitying him?
The bandit leader banished his anger for a little while. He would have better use for it later. "I suppose you must think this is funny, Winslett." He sneered, "But there is nothing I can do to change the past. I am not going to dwell on Kaitlyn's death, or the years of vicious beatings, or Malik turning me into this monster anymore. The only time I can alter is the future, and the future I envision is a Filgaia freed from all humans, and especially freed from you. Maybe if I can save at least one important life from being polluted, then my existence here would not have been totally worthless after all. I will start the culling of the human race with you, Clive, please step forward."
The swordsman made absolutely no motion to obey Ravendor's command. His tone was low, soft and did not vary in volume or pitch. He lowered his weapon and shook his head in refusal. "No," Clive said carefully, "I do not want to fight you. You are not the Ravendor Begucci that I can remember from our past. The real Ravendor would have laughed at such a stupid and impossible idea. Do you honestly believe that the death of thousands can be justified by one lofty ideal?" He couldn't help but let his voice take in a sympathetic tone. "Foolish. So very foolish. Filgaia needs the human race to keep herself alive. Without the neosapiens to be the sentient life on this planet, it is the humans that define Filgaia's individuality and comprise her soul. You think you are helping her, but in truth you aim to destroy her."
Ravendor shrugged. "Say whatever you will. I should have known better than to reason with Twister trash. If I cannot justify the wave of murder I plan to impart upon the human race on a nobler ideal, then perhaps I should just say that I will do it simply because I want to. Is that good enough for you, my friend?" He accentuated the word 'friend' with a terribly amiable tone, enjoying the reaction it placed on Clive's face. "In any case, before you get too ahead of yourself, do you not desire to have your daughter back? I have her right here, do you want her?" He looked down at the girl, and forced her to take a step forward, but he still did not let go of the grip upon her shoulder. "I have an idea. Do you wish to listen to my idea? I propose a trade."
"A trade?" Clive asked, curious but cautious. He didn't think he had anything other than his life that Ravendor wanted, but he also knew that he had to play along with Ravendor's game in order to make sure Kaitlyn emerged safe and sound. He heard Catherine scrabbling at the fallen rocks behind him to rescue the allies trapped underneath the veil of stone and rubble, but did not allow himself to turn around and expose his back to his enemy, no matter how much he wished to help her. Clive could only hope that the others would be alright.
The winged demon holstered the ARM that had been pressing uncomfortably into Kaitlyn's back, the girl exhaling a held-in breath, feeling better with the gun's absence. Ravendor nodded. "Indeed, a trade. I will return you daughter back to you in perfect heath, on one minor condition. You must give me your solemn word that you will fight me to the death, and that you will not hold back or allow yourself to be destroyed. This shall also give you a chance to do away with me, Clive, if that is what you desire. What say you?"
Clive gave him a small and very curt laugh, rubbing his chin a little as he mulled over Ravendor's proposal. There wasn't really much to think about, he didn't care about his life if it did not involve Kaitlyn, and he would easily gamble it away as long as her life was out of harm's way. "You can guarantee the lives of my wife and daughter, should I agree to this bargain?" He asked, wanting to make sure that he understood what Ravendor was talking about. The other demon nodded, and Clive let out a beaten sigh. "Very well. I accept your proposal, Ravendor. I will fight you."
Keeping his word, Ravendor let go of Kaitlyn's shoulder and the little girl left his side and ran crying to her mother, Catherine catching her in her arms just as she turned around, her hands caked with dust at trying to remove the boulders crushing her fellow teammates. Kaitlyn sobbed harshly into the front of Catherine's dress, and the force of the girl's weight made Catherine sit down on the floor, hugging her daughter and crying herself. Clive felt relief flood through his system, it seemed that Ravendor still kept his word, and had some semblance of honor left within him. He had held up his end of the bargain, and now it was time for Clive to do the same. He stepped forward, assuming an attack stance. "Virginia and the others?" He asked.
Ravendor slowly walked towards him, each step he took was gradual and deliberate, the sound of his footsteps all consuming in the air around them. "Not dead. The girl was intelligent enough to nullify the elemental properties of the attack, and the priest encased them in a protective magnarizative shield. However, they shall neither bother nor hinder this battle." As Ravendor moved, a curious thing was happening to his wings, which were half-opened at both sides of his body. The black feathers that reflected the dim light of the cavern were hardening and becoming rigid, changing their substance from soft strands of feathers to a steeled obsidian metal, gleaming and incredibly sharp, edged like a razor and twice as dangerous.
He halted only a foot away from Clive, the temperature dropping to a freezing cold level. Though, unlike the incident with Romero, Ravendor was not upset, he was smiling like one who understood the truth, and held all the power in the entire world in the palm of his hand. Clive raised his sword a little, and held onto it even tighter than before. Reaching over to one of his sides, Ravendor plucked out a medium-sized feather and stared almost disinterestedly at it, holding it at the end and twisting it around like a small leaf. Then, he leaned over towards Clive and ran the edge of the feather dart along Clive's cheek, drawing a long shallow cut and a stream of fresh black blood. Clive didn't move, still calculating Ravendor's attack.
It took nearly everything he had to prevent himself from recoiling at the bandit leader's touch, as he traced the swordsman's cut with the blunt part of a talon, smearing the blood along Clive's cheek. Withdrawing his hand, Ravendor looked at the traces of blood upon his fingertip and then tentatively licked it with the tip of his tongue, silently making an evaluation. "Demon blood." He said at last, smiling creepily. "How interesting. We always seem to mimic each other, don't we Clive? I am not going to ask you for the reason why this is so, because I have already condemned you to death in my mind, and dead men tell no tales."
"This will be the final battle?" Clive asked, ignoring the slight stinging sensation as his healing factor closed up the small wound Ravendor had made. He watched his enemy take a couple of steps away from him, widening the field in which they would battle. Then Ravendor paused, turned back to Clive and made a motion indicating that the swordsman should follow, which Clive did, awkwardly keeping in step with Ravendor as they moved away from Catherine and Kaitlyn. Catherine called out to Clive as he left them, but the swordsman did not turn around or even stop walking. If he survived this next battle, then he would have a chance to go back and apologize to her for his callousness. Until then, he ignored her.
It felt strange to walk beside Clive again, Ravendor thought. He had not done it since they were both much younger, but now, it was a walk towards death row. Only one of them would come out alive again. "Yes." Ravendor replied softly. "I do not expect that another fight will occur after this one, unless one of us manages to survive past the grave."
"I see. Ravendor… If I die, will you take Catherine and Kaitlyn home for me?" Clive asked, wondering why he was asking for a favor from the one he had just promised to destroy.
The winged demon chuckled. "You do understand that I swore to kill all humans, right?"
"I know, but please? I ask you, do not hurt them until you have no choice." He pressed.
"…Whether human or demon, you always confuse and complicate things, Clive Winslett. Very well. I will do it, if that is what you truly want." Ravendor answered, finding his place and coming to a halt. Now, they were facing each other, a space of about ten or twenty yards separating the two combatants. One, the demon of light, armed with a sword that drank in the darkness and converted it into light and life energy, and the other, the angel of darkness, tendrils of shadow wreathing his body as he flared his wings, dark electricity crackling in the air around him.
For one of them, this would be the ultimate end.