A leaf crunched, and a twig snapped. Alewr▓s eyes widened at the unexpected sound. He stopping his moving throughout the forest. Who was there? Surely noone was going to intrude into their forest. The Beacons▓ forest was one of the safer parts in the world. This was mostly due to the size of it, and the possibilities of getting one▓s self lost in it. He held his lantern tightly as possible in his right hand. ▒Crack!▓ His heart jumped, and then slowly drifted back down, after realizing that it was he who had made the sound this time around.
⌠It was probably just an animal.■ He failed to reassure himself as he trudged his way back to his home. His mother would be worried sick as usual, whenever he stayed out a measly two hours past curfew. She did have her reasons though. The Seraphs were not kindly, and weren▓t know to have been very lenient towards the original inhabitants of the forest. Perhaps it was the tales of their cruel punishments to those caught disobeying their divine rules that made him so paranoid to walk through the forest so late and alone. With the hood of his nearly silken cloak up, he saw the village in the distance. The lack of lights sickened him. Not because his sight was horrid and he couldn▓t see well. He could see well in the dark, the dense forest having blocked out most of the sun from above since he was a child. A simple look under the cloak would show that he had completed one of the more advanced educations in the fighting style of the Beacons: Hollisch Esprit Frecce. A white porcelain mask, with a simple with a religious symbol similar to a caduceus was laid upon it▓s forehead, that was tied with a satin ribbon that was hidden from view told anyone this.
The doors to his lantern he held were closed to keep from any unwanted light escaping, showing his location to anyone. It was elegantly carved from the most mysterious metal, which was sturdy as a large boulder, yet was white as bone. A clover-shaped arch was above each of the doors to the lantern, and a handle that was squeakless when he moved it. A seemingly warm temperature and feeling of never ending hopelessness seemed to radiate from the lantern. Alewr was now less than fifty feet from the town, and hid behind the trunk of a tree, contemplating on how to get back in without being seen by the Serpahian sentries.
⌠Reisende Si-⌠ He began to call upon on of the souls that were captured in the lantern he held when his mask was pulled off with force. At first, noone was seen and the taste of blood came to his mouth, followed be the late arrival of pain, as a hand clutched it shut, preventing any spiritual aid. Helpless in the art of hand to hand combat, he was quickly overcome in any struggling against the attacking Seraph. He watched helplessly as the Seraph released the spirits he had spent years collecting into the dark night. Eventually, their faint colors were no longer visible.
The Seraph came into view more correctly, and Alewr was able to see the face which betrayed the man▓s venomous actions. His hair was blonde, and was kept relatively short. Facial hair was not upon him, and it would have most probably destroyed the overall holy effect. The whitest cloth he had seen was on him like an elegant robe with wide sleeves. It was tied with a tasseled rope just above his abdomen. He was nothing short of a Seraph. Alewr had heard stories as a child about how they were the self-proclaimed warriors of God. This had always confused him until adolescence, as he was raised to worship many gods. The relationship between the two species of humanoids was on much better terms when he was young however. It had been nearly two years since his fourteenth birthday, and the year he had completed his education. He was going to be considered a man in a few months actually. The Seraph spoke, his voice perhaps even more thrilling than his appearance.
⌠NИha.■ The Seraph cursed his unworthy existence in a tongue that Alewr didn▓t know. Still, he felt the strange feeling that he knew what it meant. A small laugh, followed with ▒Cohbien?▓ was released by the angelic figure. He knew that phrase, as it was in his own tongue. He was asking Alewr if he was sleepy. The Seraph looked at him and knew that the Beacon understood well what was happening. A perfect grin, and then his large hand was placed flat against Alewr▓s stomach before he whispered a long chant of the unknown language from before. At first, nothing had occurred. But then its effect was sickeningly felt. A slowly increasing pain in his abdomen grew until it was comparable to being struck repeatedly. He felt like throwing up, and the pain continued to concentrate. Eventually the Beacon was no longer able to hold onto consciousness any longer, and slipped into it regrettably.