Vladilena
Venerémur cérnui.
Chapter I. Vile Aurora
Cecilius Arkaenum
"Perchance, Arkaenum. Does thou believe in prophecies?"
The man of divine garments spoke with patience, as he observed the cities below before the vast window. His reflection scarcely reflected on the church glass, it highlighted only its perpetually illuminating crown, with the bright hue of gold enough to blind an ordinary man.
"Fate has no opinion, Your Grace," Cecilius spoke with dignity. Fortified by her status in the chapel, she answered with honesty. "A fixed component of life cannot be altered. After all, prophecies are born from the depths of hope, eternally chained to the idea that there is always an option, despite no divine interventions are ever made to an ordinary human."
He scoffed, amused, and diverted from the dark aurora above the afternoon skies. From his seat, the atmosphere's dooming presence remained uninteresting. "Is that so, Arkaenum? That is unfortunate. I believed thou to be a maiden of beliefs, much like the others. One does not become a high priestess without strong faith."
"This one has faith in Man, not the sanctity of the deities above the empyrean throne. If this one is allowed a sentiment—I believe that destinies cannot be modified, unless Man creates the miracle."
The chief paladin raised his eyebrow, turning his attention to the lady standing to his right. He remained silent, awaiting a further explanation, as the woman poured fermented wine into his empty chalice.
"The gods are a product of humanity's ideologies. They sought protection from deities, and through their wish, the divine was born. I believe that the Star God is no different, rampaging across the worlds with his forged broadsword. If the gods' existence is solely determined by Man's values, what right do they have to determine the fate of their creators?"
...
Unscathed from the previous battle against the vile beasts, Cecilius flaunted her strength and impaled the wailing beast beneath her with the tip of her bayonet, puncturing their heart to end their misery, as she understood the origin of these beasts came not from the void—but instead, a purgatory where their sins were converted into evil beasts of war.
Her mercy embedded with the holiness of her bayonet and bullets, she marched onward alone, knowing that the village before her had evacuated prior.
Four. Five. Six... Each beast muttered incomprehensible words before its life ended, leaving only their shadow for mere seconds until their existence disappeared into the nothingness.
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The man of divine garments spoke with patience, as he observed the cities below before the vast window. His reflection scarcely reflected on the church glass, it highlighted only its perpetually illuminating crown, with the bright hue of gold enough to blind an ordinary man.
"Fate has no opinion, Your Grace," Cecilius spoke with dignity. Fortified by her status in the chapel, she answered with honesty. "A fixed component of life cannot be altered. After all, prophecies are born from the depths of hope, eternally chained to the idea that there is always an option, despite no divine interventions are ever made to an ordinary human."
He scoffed, amused, and diverted from the dark aurora above the afternoon skies. From his seat, the atmosphere's dooming presence remained uninteresting. "Is that so, Arkaenum? That is unfortunate. I believed thou to be a maiden of beliefs, much like the others. One does not become a high priestess without strong faith."
"This one has faith in Man, not the sanctity of the deities above the empyrean throne. If this one is allowed a sentiment—I believe that destinies cannot be modified, unless Man creates the miracle."
The chief paladin raised his eyebrow, turning his attention to the lady standing to his right. He remained silent, awaiting a further explanation, as the woman poured fermented wine into his empty chalice.
"The gods are a product of humanity's ideologies. They sought protection from deities, and through their wish, the divine was born. I believe that the Star God is no different, rampaging across the worlds with his forged broadsword. If the gods' existence is solely determined by Man's values, what right do they have to determine the fate of their creators?"
...
Unscathed from the previous battle against the vile beasts, Cecilius flaunted her strength and impaled the wailing beast beneath her with the tip of her bayonet, puncturing their heart to end their misery, as she understood the origin of these beasts came not from the void—but instead, a purgatory where their sins were converted into evil beasts of war.
Her mercy embedded with the holiness of her bayonet and bullets, she marched onward alone, knowing that the village before her had evacuated prior.
Four. Five. Six... Each beast muttered incomprehensible words before its life ended, leaving only their shadow for mere seconds until their existence disappeared into the nothingness.
GoodUsername