Fantasy Severence of Destinies

[Vladilena]

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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Ariventus
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Futile. Reckless. Could these mindless creatures truly not think for themselves? Oafs. Ride unto the slaughter and have your miserable, pathetic existence end. It was good riddance to the lemmings that ran toward the edge. One could hardly blame a being whose sole, instinctual desire imprinted upon them was battle and bloodshed. it came as no surprise when carnage was chosen over preservation.

Their first instinct was to die - This was the plain, simple, absolute truth. The destruction of the seal, the opening granted to the hordes that hungered was the cliff and what waited beyond was, in essence, the gravity that would see them dragged to their gruesome death. For them to blot out the golden, brilliant light of the Highworld's sun like dark clouds and stampede across the land like a coming tide of destruction, their hellfire the rain that would come to feast upon the innocent, was an impressive feat. To watch their bodies fall en masse as the dark blades he cast into their numbers cut down dozens by the number and snuffed out those insignificant, brimstone hearts brought a greater feeling. Perhaps, joy?

"Hmph."

He closed his eyes, flaring a degree of the power he possessed and scattering those demons that dared to step within his realm to the aether. Skin, bone, and even bone disappeared.

"To choose death is foolish. Know your place and return back to that seal. This world is no place for us." The words he spoke were murmured under his breath as he took a step and then another advancing toward the coming tide of demonic beasts from the reaches of the hellish netherworld. "Heed thy Commandment - Rashomon."

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That was hours ago, or so it felt. Every moment rending them asunder by the dozens and hundreds was already fading from his memory. Sat upon a rock crafted to resembled a simple throne chair with a high back, he sat there with folded arms and one leg crossed over the other amid a sea of hundreds of bodies. Hundreds scattered across a simple field, bloody and devoid of what constituted their meager lives. Simple-minded beasts. He waited with closed eyes. Perhaps a new wave might arise... Or, perhaps not. For such numbers to race to death en masse in hopes of bloodshed and to lose them... They might think twice before another attempt. If they should not, then he would lend this power to a world worth a chance.

 

[Vladilena]

Cecilius Arkaenum

Her movement ceased only at the most opportune moments, piercing through the monstrosities with her holy bullets at a lightning pace, clearing the path before her as she dashed towards the nearest haven. The maiden observed the skies—dusk imminent, although expected. For how long was she out here, consistently reloading her rifle with divine cartridges, only to send one after another without attention. If time was on her side, surely, she would've remained after each smite, praying for its soul to be granted eternal rest. How vile and unethical, she thought. Perhaps, this was the reason why she was sent here by the holy father, to free them of their captivity. Those chains of authority held by those despicable devils of war, all seven of them. Enraged at mere thoughts, her expression did not falter, but her agility and senses certainly did, as she continued onward into the village and the cobblestone road that connected it to the nearest imperial garrison.

But alas, the moment she stepped foot in front of the bashed gate—clearly a sign of demonic incursion, she gritted her teeth and held onto her rifle with anger, upon the realization that the imperial garrison had been overrun by a flood of beasts. Their scent still fresh, Cecilius carefully strolled forward with the ironsight of her rifle aimed to the front, silently analyzing the area and the footprints. With time, she began to trail the beasts' scent with efficiency. However, she could not simply ignore the torn bodies before her, their flesh ravaged from the outside by claws and teeth. They were soldiers of great bravery, having defended this garrison with all their strength—but in the end, their martial might was in vain.

Cecilius did not hesitate, no matter how gruesome it became over time. She followed the essence beneath her feet until she was met with a dead-end—in front of a cathedral with a vast amount of malicious aura seeping through the stone walls. Perhaps, that cathedral was their last base of defense. She scoured from the outside using her magic, checking for all living beings that might have survived the horde, although it was probably futile. Regardless, she followed standard protocol and analyzed the interior—only to remain stern, upon learning that her expectations had not diverted.

Even so, she pushed the cathedral gates as it creaked and echoed throughout the stone chamber, only to witness a mountain of vile corpses rotting before an individual of obsidian attire, with a face that she could not remember from her memories, even though they looked strangely familiar.

A man, she confirmed without argument. He wielded a sword of uncommon design and materials, certainly not of the standard issue of the knights. An enigma beyond recognition. Cecilius remained on guard but also curious.

She stepped closer into the cathedral, stopping just before the cadavers, her presence emitting an aura of formidable stance as she spoke to the enigma in question.

"No ordinary man could have painted such a picture." Cecilius began her inquisition, lowering her rifle to low tension. If he held serious hostile intentions, she would have sensed it, after all. Though it never pained to remain on guard, regardless. "I am Cecilius Arkaenum of the Imperial Holy Section XI, the one the public knows as the Archangel of Salvation. If you could state your identity as well, I would appreciate it."