• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy ✝ E T E R N I T Y ✝ C A L L S ✝

Characters
Here
Other
Here

Lekiel

Two Thousand Club
Supporter
I hope you will find this idea as engaging as I do =D This RP is a combination of various elements from different RPs throughout my RP-ing experience, hopefully it will turn out well! Behold!

~Echoes of Eternity~
Act 1: The Tribunal Vaults​

~Heaven's Touch Echoes the Call of Eternity~
full
734b005fd0ec2a348f76868349f5b25d.jpg

"Hey..."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think there're angels?"
"Hmmm... I dunno... maybe?"
"Would you like to hear a story?"
"Uhh... Well... sure!"

, ; . ' ` ~ " * " ~ ' ` . ; , ; . ' ` ~ " * " ~ ' ` . ; , ; . ' ` ~ " * " ~ ' ` . ; ,
From time immemorial, the Great Author and his celestial hosts had always looked over the earth. Their presence was everywhere, influencing and correcting the world and its people for good. The angels carried out the Author's commands, appearing as ordinary people to dwell amongst them. Sometimes, a chosen individual would receive a Stigmata or Signum Aeternus as it was called. These gifted people were called Vatiri (Children of the Earth in Old Language) for their souls were thought to be as old as the heavens.

The Vatiri were gifted with a very special bond with an appointed celestial. These guardian angels or Iluman (Exalted one in Old Language), was believed to be destined to be with their Vatiri before they were born and even after death. Together, they formed the Iluvatir Bond ('Heaven on Earth' in Old Language). Such bonds were so intimate that it was not uncommon for an Iluman-Vatiri pair to fall in love. Some become the closest of friends or sometimes siblings; for it was foretold that their destinies were to be always entwined and bound to each other in every reincarnation.

Alone, the Vatiri was like any normal human. Similarly, Iluman, when revealed, were the weakest of all the angelic hosts. But together, their powers can far surpass even the most powerful angels. Whatever the nature of their bond, one thing was for certain... the Iluvatir that attained the Iugum Aeternus, or Eternal Bond, had untold power. Such bonds were so complete that both Iluman and Vatiri could know what the other was thinking as though it were their own mind. They were inseparable, two beings that were extensions of each other. It was the epitome of what they could become... and to them, were given the charge of protecting earth. They were the only celestials allowed to influence earth directly, protecting it from the forces of darkness.

The Iluvatir were given special abilities, corresponding to the element of power the associated Iluman wielded. Water, Air, Fire, Earth, Life, Death and Materia. In very rare cases, the Iluvatir pair consisted of opposite/differing elements; usually resulting in some interestingly warped effects (both good and bad) of their powers.


Humans... such.. pitiful beings. Left alone they will surely degenerate into the depths of darkness that dwells ever within. The hubris that taints their heart is an indelible stain that no amount of atonement can pay for. But yet... yet, for all their imperfection... there are some who possess the will and the spirit! A fathomless capacity to hope for all that is good. A fiery soul with the capacity to blaze greater than even the seven Brightshiners... Yes.. it surely is something worth protecting. I say, let them ascend!
Atharius Soneras




  • full

    As time drew on, the Concilium de Arc`atharius (Council of Archangels) began to notice a worrying trend. Iluvatir associated with the element of Materia were particularly susceptible to corruption of the world and seemed to develop a hunger for more power. They used their gifts rashly and with little regard; often achieving more harm than good. Concerned, the Concilium issued a decree to all Materia Iluman to give up their powers or be banished from heaven. Though some heeded the Concilium, including their most powerful Iluvatir pair (they became known as the Astarias), the vast majority of Materia Iluman rebelled. They called the Concilium cowards, fearing the Materia as a threat to their power.

    full

    After a bitter war, the Concilium and other Iluman overpowered the rebellion (who became known as the Wretched) and cast them out of heaven. Cut off from Heaven, the Banished grew even more susceptible to corruption and the hubris of men. There was no one to judge their actions and thus they could roam free on Earth. Despite that, they could not act openly without the interference of the other Iluman... and so, they plotted.

    full
 
Last edited:
, . ; ` ~ * † * ~ ` ; . , Such were the realities of life that the one thing you least expected to happen, pushes itself into the very world you tread upon, twisting it and turning it upside down baring its ugly insides that would've seen no light of day. Harrowing your every waking thought with its coloured overlay of woe, that you would never ever look upon the sky the same again. It came from deep within the darkest minds of everyone who feared it. Even to those who were enraptured by the bliss of ignorance thinking it would last for eternity were not spared. Simply believing something would not happen, doesn't mean it could never occur. And so, we were unprepared for the least of possibilities. Thus was the folly of we who call ourselves the Guardians of Men... my child. ~†


Aerlia let out a sigh as she closed the leather-bound diary she held in her lap; her eyes came back into focus as if she had been looking at some vision other than the golden hues cresting over the horizon. It was ironic... that her father wrote that from the time his wife, her mother, died during the culmination of the bitter war with the Materia Iluvatir.

She sat upon a brick chimney, absently staring over the rooftops and into the rising dawn. As the darkness retreated, the sounds of a city coming to life gradually drifted over the cool autumn breeze. Warm steamy air wafted through the various exhausts littered among the tiled roofs like some sort of peculiar volcanic vents She hopped to her feet and glanced down at the journal clutched in alabaster fingers. The book was worn and tattered, with dark brown splotches on its cover and on the page leaves. It looked like any ordinary diary, except that its yellowed pages were devoid of any writing. But it was not an ordinary book... and neither was the brown-haired girl with the emerald eyes anything but 'a normal girl'.

You see, the diary was a gift from her father, the Atharius of what was left of the Iluman; Guardian Angels, who had remained vigilant on Earth. Despite their vigilance, time had muted their senses to the coming of their mortal enemies, the Wretched. Taken by surprise, the iluman were massacred to the last man. With the last of his powers, Atharius Mikhael had poured his mind into the little diary that he may continue to guide his daughter even when he had gone to the Great Author. With its help, Aerlia had managed to seek out her Vatiri, her soul partner. A mere human, mortal... yet with no ordinary soul. She watched and waited, bidding for the right time to reveal their true destinies.

She'd waited until... well, that was more than a month ago. The abrupt thought flitted across Aerlia's mind, like an annoying buzzer signalling that she was long overdue. Somehow, all throughout the 25 years Aerlia had grown nearly to the end of her patience waiting for the right time to pass. But now that it was here, she had a sick feeling in her stomach whenever she thought of walking up to Christian. Christian... she reiterated his name in her mind for the millionth time. It was an odd feeling. The idea of saying his name out loud prickled her ear tips even before she'd utter a sound. Aerlia let out a sigh, tucking the little diary into her back pocket (it didn't feel like it took up any space at all) she faced the glowing dawn, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She felt the warming rays of light carress her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Guess it was now or never.

Funny you'd say that, you planned for today afterall.

Flecks of emerald glittered in her irises, catching the morning sun as she opened her eyes once more. She took off over the rooftops; her feet a blur of movement. If any of the early risers looked out their windows, they would see a flash of balayage reds and browns dashing across the morning sky, leaping across gaps just a little too wide for any human to cross.

, . ; ` ~ * † * ~ ` ; . ,
So it was, that several hours later saw Aerlia standing infront of a classroom full of people, conveniently a full month late into what was supposed to be her first semester as a teacher's aide. The lecturer in question - the man himself - was across the floor from her, a letter from the clerical staff which she'd just passed to him clutched in his hands. A letter from the Dean herself, addressed to one Mr. Christian Young. Aerlia Michaels. An undergraduate student from Europe on an exchange program. Only just completed her final year papers. Decided to travel and gain practical teaching experience at the same time. It was all printed and signed rather nicely, except for a hastily scrawled comment somewhere at the bottom in blue ink.

"Chris, ideally we'd arrange a meeting for you to brief her on the syllabus and class schedules. But I'm sending her to your class right now as she's over a whole month late. Didn't say much about why, and I wasn't in the mood to press her for an explanation. I understand this is a little sudden, but I figured you might need help with grading and the paperwork, what with the sudden disappearance of Mrs. Stetson. Do find time to fill Ms. Michaels in, so she can get to helping you in your duties ASAP.
Signed,
Professor Ackerman​

Her emerald gaze traveled over the amphitheater, curious faces of students peering at the newcomer. A couple of guys at the back poked each other in the ribs, goofing around for no apparent reason as the nodded in her direction. Aerlia paid them no mind, focusing instead on the broad-shouldered man infront of her, a glint of expectation in her eyes.

Asa Loko Asa Loko
 
Last edited:
Ti-ti! Tic-tic! Tic-tic-tic! Tic-tic!

With a shrill sound, the alarm woke the young teacher up. In an instant, he opened his eyes. Staring up the ceiling of the small apartment, that he was living in. Christian inhaled sharply and closed his eyes again. Once again, he was ripped out of the very same dream, that has been "haunting" him ever since he was young. Moments from a life, he hasn't really experienced. He could never explain it himself, but even if he could tell the events in the dreams were not real, it still left him shattered sometimes.

The alarm continued buzzing and vibrating. Meanwhile it started to annoy Christian, thus he slammed his hand on top of it to shut it down. Monday, 6AM. The worst out of all days and the worst out of all times during the day. Usually he would have slept in until 9 or 10AM before he'd head to the college at 11. But monday was different with its one morning class, that was always challenging the young teacher's discipline.

After laying in bed for a few minutes, where he tried to get a grasp on the memories of his dream, Chris finally got out of bead. After a very quick morning shower to properly wake up and brushing his teeth, he put on his clothes. The same old suit, the same old coat and the same old routine for mondays. Even back then, when he was still just a student he woke up early on mondays. Nonetheless he still had problems waking up like this.

He locked the door upon leaving and soon headed out. Taking the old car, that he owned to drive to college. Along the way he listened to the news. Reports about the weater worsening and worsening. Climate change, the same old story from when Chris was young. Some things never did change afterall.

, . ; ` ~ * † * ~ ` ; . ,
Young, the young lecturer, sat at a small desk in front of the rows, that were slowly filling with students. In front of him a half-full - or maybe half empty? - cup of coffee. Even with the shower earlier, it wasn't enough to keep him up so early in the morning. Thus the strong tasting black liquid was there to prevent Christian from talking non-sense this early in the morning. The last thing he wanted was to start muttering out of fatigueness, while lecturing.

Time passed and eventually Aerlia entered the classroom, after it was soon nearly full. Christian was sipping from the coffee and perked up an eyebrow at the sight of the young woman, who seemed to stand out among the other people in the room. He couldn't really explain it why, but he blamed it on the fact, that he saw her for the first time in his semester. And that she maybe looked different from a student. But that would have been the weakest excuse he could have come up.

"Ah, good morning, Miss", Chris just nodded upon greeting her and looked at the letter she held out. He opened it and the brown eyes gazed over the lines. Going from the main part of the note, that was about Aerlia Micahels and then to the bottom with the note, that was meant for Christian. His eyelids moved down, partly covering his eyes, as he continued reading.

Ackerman. Christian was gonna remember this. Shifting the responsibility for her onto him. But for now, there was nothing he could do. He folded the letter and held it in his hands, as he looked at the smaller woman in front of him for a few more seconds without saying anything. Instead he put up a smile. Partly to seem like a sympathetic person, but also because she made him smile for some strange reason. Most likely it was the expectation in her eyes. That must have been it!

"Anyways, it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Michaels. I assume Mister Ackerman already told you about me, but I am Christian Young. Lecturer for the ancient history classes. Apparently, you will be in my care, so I am looking forward to working with you", Christian then finally opened up his mouth to speak. He seemed nervous at first, but quickly shook that feeling off, as he imagined talking to her was no different than talking to his students.

He then stretched his arm out for a handshake. Some callouses on were on his palm, that seemed rough and sturdy. A sign of hard work. And the memory of a few hard part-time jobs from when he was younger.
 
Last edited:
Her emerald eyes drew downwards almost imperceptibly to gaze at the proferred hand. She seemed to hesitate for the slightest of moments, then she clutched his hand in her own. For a brief instant, she felt the rough callouses of his palm as skin connected. And then a flash of a million memories fleeted across her mind's eye. The iluman's breath caught in her throat as with the visions it brought a myriad of emotions, surging through her stiffened frame. It all happened in barely a second, as something flickered across her eyes. An iridescent sheen that seemed to glow from within the capillaries of her sights. She knew it because she saw them reflected in his own shifting browns.

She caught herself before the gasp left her throat, withdrawing her hand quickly instead as if scalded. She'd been around him all his life, why was today so different?

"My... my pleasure too." Aerlia mumbled, not a little flustered with the startling experience. At the back of her mind, she wondered if he'd felt anything.

"I'll just go grab a seat." She added with a somewhat stiff smile, realizing that her tone was a little too brusque than intended. Aerlia glanced away and quickly turned to head up the rows to a half occupied section someways up the amphitheater, suddenly feeling acutely self-conscious of the fact that she might have more than a dozen pairs of eyes on her.

, . ; ` ~ * † * ~ ` ; . ,​

Luckily for her, nothing else untoward happened as Chris began his class. For much of it, she found her gaze subconsciously drawn to him, watching his every quirk like he was some peculiar sculpture in an art gallery. Though whenever she saw his eyes shift in her direction, she quickly averted her gaze, as if she thought she might have a repeat of the visions all over again.

"He's quite something isn't he?" It took Aerlia a moment to realize she was being spoken too. Blinking somewhat stupidly, she turned to her right, coming face-to-face with a perfect row of grinning white teeth. She was a mildly tanned latino, with skin like creamed coffee, and jet black curls tied back in a ponytail.

"You've been staring at Mr. Young non-stop for like.. what...? the past half hour..?" The girl continued, snickering when she saw Aerlia's face begin to colour. "I don't blame you, he's got this ruggedness about him..." her voice was almost purring. and she was biting on the tip of her pen. Aerlia could feel the heat rising higher, but before she resorted to hiding under the table, the girl extended a hand towards her.

"T'name's Clara."

"Lia..." She almost winced when Clara took her hand, half expecting the visions to flood her mind from the mere contact with a mortal. But nothing happened.

"Y'alright?"

"I'm... yeah.." Aerlia returned somewhat sheepishly, but noticed that Clara's attention was already drawn back to the front of the class where Chris was explaining a little snippet of Greek History on a projected slide. With her mind finally engaged, Aerlia began tuning in to the lesson at hand, though a frown quite quickly began to mar her brow. Something welled up within her, hearing the misinformation uttered from the lips of her Vatiri.

"Cronus is one of the greater daemons for goodness sake! How can Atharius Zeus be his child?! And... and... urgh..! Hera wasn't his wife, nor was Atharius Dione.. He married his vatiri Aphrodite! You people have gotten it all mixed up!" Without realizing it, Aerlia had actually voiced her derision out loud and before she knew it, the class was filled with an eerie silence.

There was a loud HUH? to her side, courtesy of a very perplexed Clara. Almost everyone was staring at her, some with mouths agape. Then laughter broke out from somewhere at the back. Realizing what she'd done, she thought she would die from embarrassment, trying in vain to hide her face in her trembling hands.
 
Last edited:
Upon the touch of their palms during the handshake, Christian blinked a few times. The indescribable feeling from earlier grew much stronger. Like a hit to the face with a baseball bat - not literally - it felt to the young lecturer who tilted his head and looked at her. A faint and very quiet "Yeah, sure", was his reply to her saying she'll get a seat.

In the meantime, Chris walked up to his table and placed the letter from professor Ackermann. He picked up the mug of coffee and took a veeeeeery big sip from it. The sound of his slurping was nearly heard, while he tried to collect his scattered thoughts.

A face that was unknown to him, but felt like he knew it the best. Just like this feeling inside his chest. If he knew better, he would refer to it as heart-ache. But right now he blamed the little sleep he had these past days. That must have been the cause of this. Most likely.

"Uhmm", Christian raised his hand to let his fingers run through his facial hair. Time to start classes! The words popped into his head and he nodded with a smile. The best possible way to get his mind off of this. "Good morning, class...", he started and quickly focused on lecturing...


, . ; ` ~ * † * ~ ` ; . ,

The aspiring young scholar pointed towards the screen, where the image of the orient's map projected. It also included the parts of today's India. Chris was talking about the Hellenistic kingdoms, that formed when Alexander the Great died and his generals usurped his unborn son's and wife's reigns over the Macedonian kingdom.

Eventually, he talked about how each of the kingdom's leaders legitimated their positions as rulers over these vast lands filled with ethnicities and people unknown to the "greek" culture, simply by claiming they were of god-like origin. Some claimed to be of Apollon's origin, others of Dionysos and Herakles. One of the students asked further about the mythological origins of these gods and their relationships. A question, that Chris somewhat anticipated and made him chuckle.

He further elaborated, folding his hands and shyly explained, that most of the historical sources on the mythological texts were mostly not reliable, due to missing, crucial parts or the simple lack of them. Thus every read and a translated source is an interpretation for itself, merely a try to grasp on what was tried to be said and what the intentions of such texts were.

However, he did answer the student's question based on his knowledge. Only touching the surface of the topic, he talked about the Olympian and the pre-olympian gods, alongside their relationships with one another. A very complicated topic in itself, given the "gods" back then were supposed to be the ones, who were actively meddling with the mortals' business and lives.

It was then when Aerlia spoke up and corrected him on the mistakes. Something, that caught Christian off-guard. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, as he looked over to the "young" woman. One would think, that a lecturer would seem very upset when they would be contradicted during their lessons, but it wasn't the case for Chris. In fact, he seemed rather intrigued, given he was always open for a different opinion when talking about history.

When the class started laughing, the young lecturer raised his hand. "Jeez, calm down guys. What I think Mrs. Michaels here is trying to say, is that the subject in itself is what some of you would call a clusterfrick", he spoke with amusement in his voice and folded his hands. "Afterall, the foundation for mythology we have are texts over a couple of thousand years old. Written by elderly men, who were trying to cram their philosophical or political agenda into these religious texts. The point of view can differ from scholar to scholar, as they often use different sources, thus there is no need to laugh. She is from Europe after all. And I would love to get my hands on some original sources like she probably did, instead of mere pictures or copies", he wiggled his stretched out index-finger around in a lecturing manner like some elementary-school teacher. "Or am I mistaken in my assumption, Miss Michaels?", Chris smiled politely and showed his white teeth when he folded both his hands behind his back.
 
"I said... just leave me alonnneee-!" What was it with all these people lately? He didn't want no help. Can't they see that he was no beggar? Dressed in a dirtied shirt once white, now nearly as brown as the muddied puddle by his grubby fingers. A tattered tie wrung loosely about his neck and an empty bottle clutched in the other. Why wouldn't they just leave him to wallow in his self pity, to rot his life away drowned in heavy liquor as his wiry frame slowly wasted away. It was no different than slogging through that hell hole people called a job.

He heard another step, and the darkening of the alleyway as if the shadowy outline of the unwelcome guest had taken a step in his direction, obscuring the ray of morning light.

"HEY! Didn't ya 'err me!? I sed-!" The vagrant lifted the bottle ready to throw shards of glass at the whoever unfortunate soul that could not understand his slurred English.

His terrified howl did not even make it past his lips, as Daniel O'Brian was no more, swallowed up by a trio of growling beasts, swirls of shadow and hellfire muted his agonized wails. The hooded figure stooped low to curiously observe the bloodied brick wall where a man had once leaned against, scant seconds before. He pressed his nose close to the ground, like a bloodhound sniffing the trails of its prey. Low growls could be heard as the beasts backed away, hackles raised though their stance was more out of readiness than aggression. The figure stood to its feet, head tilting to one side and then snapping to the next in hair-raising jerking movements, twisting at angles impossible for what might be possible for humans.

All at once, the jerking stopped as its hooded focus now trained up one particular road. A low ticking sound, not unlike the beat of a tongue drumming against the upper palate trickled into the morning air. It was just as well that this was in a lesser occupied part of the neighborhood, else a passerby would've seen the abnormally tall shade of a man meld into the shadows, black as liquid night. Howls would've followed in its wake, heard in the mind, but not on the wind.

, . ; ` ~ * † * ~ ` ; . ,​

She was still blushing madly even as Chris calmed his class down, and proceeded to smoothly explained her outburst in even intelligible tones that was so rational she found herself nearly believing him; except for the fact that she knew it wasn't true. But she just as well should not push it yes? What was it about trying to maintain a low-key presence? Now she'd done screwed it all up.

"I... yes-yes... you're right Chri- Mr. Young." She lifted her emerald gaze just long enough to meet his eyes before averting them. To be honest, she didn't know what to expect of today. And if she were fully honest, she didn't know what she wanted to achieve. But Aerlia did know that becoming classroom entertainment was certainly not on the list. Nonetheless, she was saved from further embarrassment by the abrupt peel of a bell, signaling the end of the class period. The class immediately erupted into a frenzy as everyone began packing their things. There wasn't any other history lesson for the day, though Professor Ackerman had recommended she take the time to speak with Mr. Young... Chris... her bondmate... It obviously wouldn't be the first time she'd speak with him up close of course. She'd remembered the time she caught him stealing some toys from the store. A young Christ had dashed round the corner only to bump into a lady. She'd looked at him then, into his big brown eyes, terrified of being caught. She knew why he'd taken the toys. Wanted for all her heart to have hugged the young Chris close to her then, to tell him it wasn't right, but it's okay. Just this once. Instead, she'd released him, a rueful smile painted on her ruby lips. He would've been too young to recognize her then, but she'd already broken a rule by being so close to him.

"Damn gurl... whatever it is you're smokin' I want some o' that!" Her little daytime reverie was broken by Clara, who was standing by her side, arms folded into her chest and a weird but excited gleam in her eye as she watched the auburn haired girl.

"Smokin- what-?!" Aerlia blinked, but shook her head. "Hey Clara, I've gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow." She needed to get out of here, and get back, to rethink how she was going to do this. She didn't now why, but her heart was beginning to pound a mile a minute. There was something different about today. A palpable static in the air, and everytime she thought of going up to him to explain everything, she thought she would puke. She could quite clearly imagine his disbelief and incredulity plastered on his face, and the sound of laughter like some comedy show laughter cue playing in the background. She tugged her black cardigan over her white tank top closer and shouldered her pack, waved briefly at a perplexed Clara and weaved her way between her mingling classmates and out the door.
 
Upon the sound of the ringing bell, Christian smiled and chuckled. He shook his head and placed both his hands on his hips, as he talked to the eagerly leaving students. The rush of a finished class and the possibility of going home, if it was the only one for the day or the morning. Nothing would have beaten a good nap after a good history class, even the young lecturer agreed to that!

"Don't forget to start studying already! We may be only in the middle of the semester, but don't underestimate the amount you will have to learn. After all, I have to make sure that you guys paid attention in class", he raised his finger in a lecturing manner and went back towards his desk, where he put his MacBook back into his bag alongside some leftover sheets. Some, that he had given out for this one particular class for further preparation.

When he then turned around with the bag lifted up, he spotted the leaving autumn red hair among the crowd of students. He blinked in confusion and had an expressionless face, as he watched her for a few more seconds until she was gone out of his sight. It took him a much longer second before he realized, that he should have gone after her. Yes, he did have to do some paperwork after this, but he could take his time on the way towards his office.

And thus, the young lecturer rushed out, passing some students that stayed a second longer due to having a question. It broke Chris' heart, that he couldn't answer their questions, but he always answered his emails faithfully, so he hoped they would just mail him.

, . ; ` ~ * † * ~ ` ; . ,
Chris was not even out of breath when he stepped out of the old fashioned university building. His head turned first to the right and then to the left to look after Aerlia, who was really quick on her feet. In some way he felt like it was a weird thing to do to run after your new-co-worker the very first day you "met". But at the same time, he felt like he had to do this because anything else felt wrong to him. He did think about it on his way out, where he passed students and other scientific workers from his faculty he had a good relationship with.

"Aerlia?", the young lecturer then called out to her the moment he spotted her across the street. With a short glance to the right and left he then crossed the street, some cars honking at him, due to them having to slow down in the street, that already had a very low-speed limit due to the nearby campus. The closer Chris got, the slower he got to not make himself seem like some creep who ran after women in broad daylight. It also had something romantic in his mind, but he just got to know her, didn't he?

"Please, wait a minute", he added, once he hopefully got close enough.
 
It took several minutes and a distance of about a kilometer away from that static charged classroom for the incessant buzzing and cloud to clear from her mind. It was also around that time that she finally noticed how fast she was striding, her footfalls almost literally carrying her along with the wind. So much so, that any mortal that would attempt to follow her might have quickly found themselves left far behind. It wasn't comically swift per se, just... a little faster than normal. Nonetheless, her overreaction to the whole situation struck Aerlia's funny bone, and she soon quickly found herself laughing at her own naive stupidity. Luckily for her, there wasn't anyone else around to look at the giggling monologue and give her funny looks. Slowing down to a more comfortable pace, she was in the midst of thinking about how she would not mess up her next meeting with Chris when a sudden icy cold grip clenched at the nape of her neck. The sudden premonition of danger was so tangible that it caused the Iluman to whirl around, pearlescent glow flashing under her skin to ignite at her palms.

But it was naught but a startled cat. The light faded from her hands as she let out a short-lived sigh. The feeling of intense foreboding had never left. Something innate within her had been alerted. A primal feeling of danger as her celestial heart immediately began to thump ever so powerfully. Her brows creased, as she cast her glance this way and that, trying to pinpoint the source of her discomfort. Latent memories kicked in, and in a flash, she felt almost as if she were in a different time and place; out in an open wasteland with danger all around. Muscle memory the Iluman never knew she had keened her senses, extending her awareness out beyond into the unseen. It was at that moment she heard his voice. Faint, but distant. He was in deep trouble.

"Please, wait a minute..."

, . ; ` ~ * † * ~ ` ; . ,​

The figure of Aerlia turned slightly at the sound of Chris' voice, though it immediately kept walking. The woman's pace was swift, though not too quick as to disappear completely from the man's line of sight for longer than a couple of seconds. There was something odd about the way she moved, or perhaps, it was the way she looked. If Chris was not too preoccupied with chasing the Iluman, he might've noticed how her colours seemed muted against the surroundings, even considering the overcast afternoon sky. It was as if an overlay of shadows muted the vibrancy of her clothing even taking into consideration her monochrome clothing. She weaved through the back alleys, turning into a section of older, more dilapidated commercial blocks. Graffiti coloured the dusty brick walls and cut fences leading into empty lots and abandoned warehouses appeared more commonplace.

Still she walked, making sure Chris kept up until finally, she rounded a corner and passed through between a twisted set of metal fences, disappearing again from view. If he should hesitate, he would hear a vaguely feminine voice calling out to him, or perhaps it would whisper within his mind.

"Over here," it seemed to say. "Quickly"

And when he passed between the fences, he would see Aerlia, with her back to him standing before a tall figure, cloaked in robes of billowing black smoke. It's head was barely reminiscent of any normal human as its dark hood protruded upwards sharply, as if whatever within had a triangular head. Nothing but darkness peeked out from within. 'Aerlia' would then turn around to face him as her pallid skin would darken, her fine features melting and twisting like hot wax, pooling into a lump of gurgling shadow. One which seemed to twist in on itself, as the sounds of cracking bones emanated from the twisting blob. A blob that shifted, coalescing into form until it resembled a large wolf. Obsidian black with black smoke wicking off its burning red eyes. And if Christ were to turn around, he would find two other such bloodhounds behind him.

A clawed hand stretched upward as if to beckon the man closer as the hooded emptiness tilted to one side to observe the petrified human. Then in a vile hair-raising voice, one that was both high pitched like that of a little girl and ominously deep, it spoke.

"Come on a little closer, there's something I want you to see!"
 
He continued following. Running after the woman into the side- and back alleys of the thicket of the city jungle. The sound of cars grew quieter and quieter with each step he made away from the roads. Here and there he dodged random trash cans laying on the ground, as he kept pursuing her. Something did feel off to him, but he couldn't simply grasp it with words or thoughts. It was nothing but a mere feeling and the one thing he learned in his life so far, that solely listening to your guts was not always the smartest thing to do. Chris preferred a good combination of feelings and thoughts to make a decision. Yet things seemed to end up completely different than he would have expected.

"Phew", he sighed and wiped off a single drop of sweat on his forehead, when he finally managed to close in on Aerlia. He had his eyes closed for the split second, where he exhaled to catch his breath. When he opened both his eyes he finally noticed the unreal version of Aerlia, that was deceiving him. He stared with emptiness at "her" until it turned to a simple, black blob and then towards the ferocious looking wolf with its considerable size.

The young lecturer pressed both his lips together and stared with widened his eyes. He slowly moved his left foot back and turned his head sideways to peek behind himself. Another two.

Sharply the air within his lungs escaped through his nostrils, while his mind started racing. Was this your typical Monday morning dream, that fucked you up mentally before starting the new week? He couldn't tell, because it felt much too surreal to him. With a simple pinch into his own hand, he confirmed that this must have been real and that his eyes weren't deceiving him. Sweat started to form on his forehead. Back then in high school, he would have always carried a knife around with him. Something that would have given him in this sort of situation some sort of reassurance, but he was literally backed up into a corner.

Slowly moving towards the wall, as he didn't want to get munched on from behind. Think, think, think. He kept on yelling within his own mind in order to come up with something. But the more and longer he thought, the more it seemed like a dead end. The bloodhounds made out of shadows moved around, closing in on the simple human with their fangs exposed to the faint light within the dark back alley.

Adrenaline started rushing into his blood, giving him some sort of high in his assumingly last moments. He leaped forward, trying to roll past the bloodhounds and make an escape for the alleys he came back from. A solid plan in his mind. One he hopefully would have gotten away with.

Since it was the only plan he had in mind and the thought of dying didn't really sit well with Christian, he had to try. Tension built up in his muscles and with tunnel vision on survival, he moved forward. Making himself small in the process of jumping forward and trying to perform a roll.

However, he drastically underestimated the Wretched minions. With a simple, but effective bite into his calve he was stopped midway, far from any escape. Hope swindled away, as the bloodhound moved its head swiftly to the side and let go of the bleeding and punctured limb, sending the moral flying away. Back into the direction where he was just a second ago. Once again air escaped Chris' lungs when he crashed against the brick wall and broke a bone or two, while receiving a laceration at the back of his head.

He moved his hands up, placing them on his buzzing head. Was he seeing stars...? "Ah...", he groaned quietly pain and now realized, that all hope was futile with the four bloodhounds closing in on him.
 
Every thread and fiber of her being was shrieking in alarm. Soundless sirens blaring amidst the contrasting calm of a midday cityscape. Unwittingly, It clouded her mind in a reddening haze. She couldn't control it, for she had not felt anything like it before.... except on that fated day. Her lungs constricted for air even as she felt her pulse quicken to a level beyond what she thought possible. The intensity of it strung her primal instincts and every one of her senses to bare. She could hear, feel, taste and smell it all at once; the overwhelming pungent stench of danger... and fear. With sudden clarity, she sensed that the fear was not of her own. She latched onto that feeling, like a drowning person would to anything they could grasp. And with that desperate attempt, she finally found her focus, and a direction.

Chris was in danger.

She shut her eyes to the world for a moment, breathing in her thoughts, honing her senses to the source of the call. Then she took off in a blur of movement.

, . ; ` ~ * † * ~ ` ; . ,​

"NO!" Somewhere at the back of her mind, in that little part of her that seemed to watch her actions as if they were of someone else, she shuddered to think what would've happened if she had delayed any longer. The scene before her was one out of a nightmare. Chris lay curled up on the ground, battered and with a very visible tear on the trouser of his leg. Surrounded by beasts and creatures of deepest shadow. An umbral blackness so dark and with a stench of evil unlike anything that she felt before. It terrified her. But her desperation overrode it all.

Bursting onto the scene, she barely had time to register it all before her instincts kicked in. She flung one hand forwards, in the direction of a lunging hound.

"ADURO!" She shrieked the words of a spell but to her surprise, instead of a torrent of blazing white light, several small bolts streaked from her outstretched hand. Nevertheless, she heard the roar of pain as the two hounds nearest to Chris crashed mid-leap. One had been struck by several bolts directly to the face, their gleaming hafts still sticking out of hound's shadowy coat. It lay unmoving, though its body had already begun to melt, as if it were made of liquid shadow. The other was struck along its flanks, injured, but still very much a threat.

Aerlia did not have time to wonder at her misfired spell. Racing towards him, she let out another cry as she grabbed Chris' fallen form with one hand while she lashed out at the stalking Wretched with the other. Seeing the unarmed Iluman, another of the Shadowhounds attempted to lunge, but its growls were suddenly cut short as its head was unceremoniously separated from its shoulders by a flash of light.

"Stay BACK!" Eyes ablaze with light, Aerlia dragged Chris backwards with a strength that belied her smaller stature. A gleaming sword that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere clutched in her free hand.

"Yilumannn..!" Its voice was like torn nails on chalkboard. Grating painfully against her skin. Now that the haze of the initial rush had faded away, the angel only then realized that there was a being of darker shadow that stood apart from its shadowy beasts. A construct of ancient malice. Born out of greed and unbound magic. It had only one name.

"Silhouette..." The faceless hood tilted to one side as the words hissed from between the angel's lips. Recognizing the being of darkness before her, she could not mask the terror from her eyes as she stared at the abominable creation of the fallen Wretched. Being so close to it, she could not help but feel the fragility of her own life, let alone that of Chris'. She should've known that they would come back one day. She'd been warned by her father's diary time and again, but she'd allowed petty things to get in her way of preparation for their return. She hoped she was not too late.

Accompanied by the remaining shadowhound, the Silhouette took a soundless step closer, a guttural rasp croaking from its supernatural throat. Immediately, Aerlia raised her gleaming sword, its silvery tip pointed in warning at the apparition, causing it to pause. Still, she doubted it was really afraid. Though the folds of its hood betrayed no facade, she couldn't help but feel its 'eyes' boring holes into her paltry attempts to show courage. It was toying with her.

One hand still wrapped around Chris' frame, she edged her way backwards but quickly found herself pressed against a brick wall. Risking a glance, she noticed they were beside the entrance to an abandoned warehouse.

"Chris..!" She hoped he was conscious. A nagging worry at the reminder of her busted spell from earlier clutched at her heart, the cause of which she could not yet ascertain.

"Chris... can you move?" Without taking her eyes off the enemy, she crouched lower, trying to see if she could hear his breath.
 
The young lecturer shut his eyes, as he accepted what was about to come. But with a buzzing head and a blurry vision, he then noticed someone that came to his aid. A blazing white light, shining like the golden sun during a storm on the open sea, appeared before him and gave him... Hope?

He sat back up to properly watch the fight with his aching head. For a moment he believed that he was completely saved by her, whilst he observed her movements and attacks in awe. When she reached him and helped him up, he gritted his teeth and moved up, shifting his weight onto the leg that wasn't bitten and bleeding like crazy.

At the sight of the Silhouette, he frowned and held onto Aerlia with one arm, while his other rubbed the back of his bleeding head. He gulped his fear down and gave her a nod to give her re-assurance. "Yeah... I should be able to move", he looked down at himself. The bone and muscle of his gaping wound was revealed, but his other leg was still good to be used. "What's your plan?", he asked with a quiet groan of pain at the end of his sentence.

Thinking was a pain right now, just like moving. But he had to do it. She somehow came to help him in this strange situation. Of course he was gonna question it later, but for now, it was all about surviving, not talking. Words could wait, but not actions.

He eyed towards the entrance of the warehouse and seemed to catch up. With his healthy leg he would have started pushing Aerlia towards it. It was his own way of re-assuring her that he definetly was good to go. He may not have known her for long, but in his current condition anyone would probably worry much more than needed.
 
In spite of their dire circumstances, the relief that flooded her tense frame brought with it an inexplicable sense of hope when Chris came to. He was fine, if sporting a deep gash in your calf was considered fine. And it was. It was funny that way, as was the nature of their relationship. Never having talked to each other at all, yet she knew all about him like the back of her hand. And it wasn't just because she had watched over him for all his current mortal years. Yes, she'd been told of the bond that souls like theirs shared; the Iluvatir. But hearing about it was one thing, knowing it was another, and experiencing it was on a whole different level. This wasn't the first time they stood huddle together like this, in the face of danger. And she knew, it wouldn't be the first time she'd step between him and the horrors that befell them. Ready to sacrifice it all for the one she'd only just met, but knew.

A wry smile curled the edges of her lips when he began attempting to support his own weight, pushing to indicate he was with her. No words were said. None were needed. Courageous, uncomplaining, as he always was. She risked a glance at him.

"You won't go far like this..." With her eyes keeping a wary watch at the Silhouette for sudden movements, she reached down with a free hand to lightly clutch at the slashed and torn gash over his leg. The creature of darkness seemed to hesitate from attacking, watching the Celestial with a curious glance as if it wasn't sure what to make of Aerlia.

A whispered litany whispered from between her lips as she held her hand steady. "Natrielmen aer`Nala, sin'naduin wennamen duinsin. Sin trielna duindoth, weinna reinadol dunaqueth holwen." The language was unknown to him of course, though her words would install a serene calmness. A growing warmth would envelop his wounds, almost searing his flesh at first, but it would mellow and tingle as torn flesh mended together. Chris would eventually feel as good as new, if not even a little stronger than usual. Superhuman... almost.

Aerlia felt the flow of power leave her as she chanted the healing spell. The light from her sword would dim for all but an instant as she exerted herself. Unfortunately, it did not go unnoticed. The creature of shadow drew back as if surprised. The low grating of sound from its unearthly throat grew louder. On either of its sides, what remained of the shadow wolves would coalesce together, bubbling and gurgling as if alive slowly forming vague humanoid creatures, their limbs eerily long and stretched, ending with claws of midnight. There was barely a moment.

"RUN CHRIS!" Aerlia shoved him away as the Silhouette and its two shadow minions charged once more. Letting out an enraged cry, Aerlia barely had time to twist out of the way of one of the minions before the Silhouette's blade-like claws clashed into a parry with her own sword. Even then, the force of the attack sent her flying several feet backwards, causing her back to crash painfully on the brick wall. A pained grunt escaped her throat as she struggled to stay on her feet.

She hoped Chris would heed her warning and run.

OOC: Sorry for the delay!!! Leaving you an open ended option here haha.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top