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    Light in the Darkness Finale

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    BlessedBeatrix
    BlessedBeatrix

    Knight VIP Status- Regular VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Slayer- Character Application Approved!- Magic Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Player 
    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
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    Age : 31
    Mentor : Nessa Cordelia Lux (Former)
    Experience : 1,326,170

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Magic: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Magic: Incoming...

    Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by BlessedBeatrix on 10th February 2019, 10:53 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    “That I am,” Ruzatz agreed with his wife, nodding gently along with his words. There was simply no denying the fact that the two – demon and human alike – were quite in love. The Prime Sin had never pretended, not even for a moment, that all of his heart belonged to Agatha, even in front of his kin. As far as he was concerned, they were the ones that needed adjusting; he was simply learning to roll with the times. But his affection for his wife wasn’t at the forefront of his mind, allowing only that small and brief moment before refocusing on the matter at hand. Serilda was here for a reason and, if they were going to get any answers, it required parts and actions from each one of them in attendance.

    Agatha went to fetch her crystal, so that she could properly scry on the God Slayer. Ruzatz watched her go before turning back to Serilda, sighing as he did so. Luckily for them, the Voidwalker seemed to possess something for their needs. She pulled her keychain out and produced a single key, stating that it was the one that he had given to her. The Prime Sin walked over and looked over the item curiously before reaching out to press his finger against it. He wasn’t as keen to reading objects as Agatha or others were but… “Yes, this will do perfectly,” he told her, aiming to relieve any dread she may have had over its usefulness.

    Now all they could do was wait for Agatha to return, which wouldn’t be too long. Ruzatz took a step back, reminding himself of Serilda’s cautious nature towards his race and was preparing to move back to his chair when the Voidwalker spoke to him. He raised a brow as she spoke to him, addressing the fact that her favor wasn’t small, easy… or without consequences. Indeed, the Fallen Goddess would rain hell down upon him and his if she ever discovered he was the one that had assisted her. With that knowledge, Serilda told him that if any dared to intervene in his peace, she would want to know as soon as possible. She refused to allow him to take the punishment full blow. He smiled gently. “I shall, Lady Sinclair. But I promise if Faera does come looking for me and mine, she’ll get more of a fight than she’s truly prepared for,” he said with confidence and pride, waving out towards the people in the gallery. “You see, these aren’t just people who adore perversion – they’re more like free spirits. They wish to live out their lives as they best see fit, eager to go where they aren’t supposed to and try things others might frown upon. You’d be surprised how many people try to stop them and not through all-together peaceful means either. They’ve trained their magics to protect themselves, as well as others too. So if anyone comes knocking in an attempt to interrupt our peace, they’ll find hell like many don’t even know.”

    The ‘Titan’ part of their name was not merely embellishment – it was a statement for their strength. The titans of legend once sought to defy the gods, who ruled over the world with selfishness and corruption. The Lusty Titans weren’t as drastic or revolutionary but they did not follow the strict lines of most other guilds either. They defied the proletariat so they could seek their own happiness and helped any that sought to walk along the same path. The added benefit was that each one of them also enjoyed a little bit of fooling around, something that was never a requirement of experience. But any that wished to join needed to understand that sometimes the guild hall would devolve into one giant orgy of bodies.

    Serilda’s thoughts weren’t completely empty yet though, as she expressed her vow that she would attempt to push aside her preconceptions of demons, at least when it came to him. It wasn’t applied to all but she would remember what he had done for her since their meeting, in what seemed like such a long time ago. “I appreciate that, Serilda,” he said, addressing her less formally in an attempt to show his humility to her words. “And you have my word I will do my best never to give you reason to fall back on your word.”

    As their private, familiar moment passed, Agatha finally returned with her crystal ball. She set it on the closest table, the trio gathering around as Agatha attuned the crystal to Mythal’s essence. The Prime Sin couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face as he looked at his wife. When he had first met her, this kind of magic would have taken her a full rotation of the sun to complete. Of course, back then, he had been a far more rigid and proper demon lord. How marriage and soulful combination had changed them both, for the better it seemed. She finished the spell and held her hands over the orb, masterfully channeling the crystal with magic. Dark, ominous smoke appeared in its core, filling the entirety of the glass ball. And after a brief, terrifying moment of absolute silence… there was sound. The echoes of battle echoed out from the globe, the unmistakable cries of agony and pain as souls were brought low. There was a familiar cry that sparked recognition in the Prime Sin and Serilda – Mythal’s voice above the mass of violent noise. “I’ll be damned…” Ruzatz said, scoffing but also smiling. The God Slayer was still alive!

    Serilda demanded she be sent as close to him as possible, something Ruzatz hadn’t been planning. His invasion into Kingdom Darkness would be far more obvious were he to open a portal closer to her subjects. He’d planned on slicing open the rift between worlds a couple of miles above the ground, so that she could free fall directly into the battle. But given how riotous the noise was coming from the crystal ball, he wasn’t sure he had that option. Agatha asked the Voidwalker to wait a moment so she could place a protective spell over them, as the air in the realm was poisonous to any that entered that didn’t belong to Faera’s control. In truth, the entirety of the realm was more dangerous than that but the other corruption required a lot longer exposure than that.

    It seemed Ozorith had planned for just this situation, not surprising Ruzatz in the least bit. Her armor, as little as there was, was specifically enchanted to protect her from the magical essence within the realm. If it truly protected her against Faera was one thing but he deeply hoped that trial through fire wasn’t meant for the Voidwalker in this instance. The Star Wolf was the only one that required protection and Agatha quickly and efficiently weaved a protection spell over the hound, protecting Xiuhcoatl for the, hopefully, short time they would be there. Serilda thanked them for their actions and asked that should the worst come to pass, that they inform her family of what had happened. Ruzatz nodded gently before he sighed and closed his eyes. The air in front of him shimmered with magical power before it gave way to a solid object; a bound and wrapped whip of bright, white magic energy. It was smoking gently, undulating much like darkness magic might had it found itself injected with light. And wasn’t that just what Ruzatz had as a magical blessing – the power of a Hell Demon Slayer. He snatched the whip from the air and unrolled it with a quick flick of his wrist to the side.

    “Be warned, Serilda,” he said as the weapon began to glow brighter in his grip, magic energy funneling into the weapon. “This is a one way portal. Once you are through, it will close behind you. You’re only way out of Kingdom Darkness is going to be through the door. I’ve never heard of any opening it that weren’t given explicit power to do so… so my advice is to find a head honcho and take his key. Oh and one last thing…” he said, flashing a smirk. “Kick some serious ass while you’re in there.”

    With that said, he brought the whip up above his head, spinning it in a perfect circle of shadowy light. Then he snapped it forward, the weapon releasing a loud crack as it hit its full extension. And there, at its absolute extreme point, reality split open into a vertical tear of white light. Beyond the glowing entryway was only darkness, far darker than any shadow that ever appeared in their world. Once Serilda had stepped through, it would sew itself back up without sound or order, reversing the wound that had been made.

    Ruzatz threw the whip into the air and it disappeared with a flash of light, storing itself within the pocket realm he rarely utilized nowadays. He looked over at Agatha briefly, giving her a small smile of hope before he reached into his pocket and pulled out his very own iLac. He pressed a few buttons on the screen and then brought it up to his ear, the device ringing. After a brief few seconds of ringing, someone picked up. “Ignacio. I think you have some explaining to do.”




    The sounds of battle were everywhere, or so it seemed. Mythal’s sense of the world was so scrambled at the moment that he couldn’t quite place where there wasn’t fighting and where there was. That wasn’t quite true – he certainly knew where there was fighting, as it was almost exclusively revolving around him or Gren. The dark forces of Faera’s had come swarming en masse and hadn’t let up the entire trip from the prison to their open battlefield here. If he was going to die, he much preferred it to be outside anyways.

    The prison guards hadn’t been very impressive, to say the least. Mythal himself had managed to land single punches and kicks to each one to knock them through the walls. As he and Gren searched for an entryway to get out, they kept running into group after group of soldiers. They looked both oddly different and strangely familiar, all at the same time. Their faces were human like, along with their bodies and major features. They didn’t have wings, like the God Slayer had expected from angels, but there was a dark aura about them. There was also the fact that all of them had the same kind of eyes – pitch black irises with black veins filling their sclera. Even their equipment resembled that of what one would find in his regular world, though the blades and points were all as black as obsidian. The God Slayer weaved between slashes, stabs and swings to land strike after strike, his bare fists proving more potent that the weapons from the angelic guardsmen. He and Gren traveled up and down the building in search of an exit, the structure itself seeming to change to keep them lost. Eventually Mythal grew sick of simply running around and began to dismantle the building wall by wall, floor after floor. The prison lurched and fell away in several places and finally they found a hole that led to a tangible pathway outside.

    Of course, by then, hundreds of Faera’s forces had gathered outside just in case this happened. Overwhelming two enemies of the realm seemed easy given their numbers but one could only imagine their surprise when Mythal and Gren dove into the stream of angelic forces and began to carve their way through the masses. They had no sense of direction, no real destination in mind – they would simply fight in hopes of finding some path that led them out of there. Despite Gren having seen little to no combat during his training, he moved like a pro; he weaved between angel’s legs and nipped at them, distracting the enemies for Mythal to swoop in and deliver a fatal blow. The God Slayer invoked every attack he had ever learned as he fought in a near three hundred sixty degree circle. Bodies and faces began to bleed together as he dodged and countered and punched and kicked and grabbed. It felt like hours, days even, before he finally delivered another punch that crumbled an angel’s body and realized that they had cleared out all of the forces… at least for now.

    They had several paths to choose from and no idea which one was the right way. All directions seemed to lead towards more endless darkness and without signs or idea, it was almost a roulette of chance and danger whether they found salvation or further damnation. Luckily they got the opportunity to avoid a guessing game – one of the angels had survived the assault, long enough for Mythal to drag him up and demand answers. After a bit of squeezing, in the literal sense, the God Slayer learned some very basic details; they were in on the outskirts of Kingdom Darkness, right near where the realm fell off into an endless fall of darkness. It seemed the world developed based on how many occupants lived within it and, as more came in, the further the world grew. But there was a literal end to it all and that pit had no stop if one were to fall into it. The angel explained, in pained detail, that it was here that the door to the other realm, Mythal’s home realm, had been built by the gods of old. Apparently none were meant to pass through it unless it was absolutely necessary but at some point, the Fallen Goddess had decided to disobey that high law. Special rituals could be done to allow the celestial denizens of this world to take over mortal bodies and pass through the door without issue, so long as they possessed a special ‘key’. Unfortunately once one had used the key to come back into Kingdom Darkness, it was rendered useless for decades.

    That explained why Archimedes had remained in the human world for so long. He didn’t want to return unless he was absolutely sure he needed to. Getting Mythal had apparently been enough for him to finally return to his home after over thirty decades. The angel seemed to hint that beyond the special rituals, there was no way to open Kingdom Darkness’ door from this side. But Mythal wasn’t having it and after learning the path to bring him to the door, he was quick to put his information broker down like his brethren.


    The trip to the door wasn’t easy either; more angelic forces set upon them from every side. They were sporadic; special groups that were probably sent in to try and slow him down while the remainder gathered to swarm them. They were dispatched much like their brothers and sisters but not as easily as when they had started. Mythal’s magical core was already fairly drained and the constant battling was beginning to wane on him. By the time they reached the rise on the path that would lead them down to the door, Mythal had to take a moment and breath.

    Gren’s whimpered gently as he walked over and brushed himself against the God Slayer, who had taken to one knee. He laughed softly between his breaths as he reached down and scratched the pup. “Don’t worry, bud… I’m not done yet,” he said softly, lifting himself a bit so he could sit with a straight back. The dark, starry skies shone down upon them from all sides, the purple lights as alien as everything else in this realm. The closer he got to the edge of the realm, the stranger it seemed to get – there were now floating pieces of land all around him, islands made of the same gray soil that had made up the ‘ground’ near the prison. A part of him, the part he imagined came from his bastard of a father, found comfort in the strange sights of the dark realm. The human part of him was just… well, truth be told he was rather ambivalent. But this didn’t feel like a home to him. It felt more like a place from a dream or a nightmare. “Pro’lly gonna haunt me for the rest of my days,” he said with a groan as he got back to his feet, feeling all the aches in his body cry out all at the same time.

    He pushed forward, the eager hound running right beside him. As he came over the crest of the hill, he felt the energy in his core sigh once more as he laid eyes upon the massive army. They had all gathered on the circular plot of land at the bottom of the path and there, floating in the sky just past them, was the door. It was the same on this side as it had been on the other – its pearlescent sheen an eyesore against the dark backdrop of the realm. This army was… different. There were similar soldiers to the ones he had fought already but there were others too. Massive, troll-looking beings made of blackened stone, small white eyes glaring up at the God Slayer. They held large stone blades that were clearly meant for bashing rather than slicing – which would be easy, since they were roughly twice the size of Mythal. Floating over the giant’s backs were creatures that looked like shadow ghosts. They had no legs to speak of, only wispy smoky tails that whipped to and fro. Their torsos were covered in armor and they bore a hood that covered their heads. Beneath the hood was a white mask, painted in red and blue tribal markings. They each held a single sword in one hand and a shadow leash that seemed to connect to the giant’s necks in the other.

    Mythal looked out at all the enemies before him and sighed, shaking his head softly. He looked down at the Star Wolf, also looking out at the forces but not looking nearly as defeated. The pup looked up and wuffed softly, ever the constant source of confidence. “I know; you’d think they’d actually try and stop us,” Mythal quipped, finding a bit of humor in the moment.

    Gren wuffed again, his tail wagging to and fro. He was ready whenever the God Slayer was. Mythal looked past the enemies and at the door, the only barrier between him and freedom. As he had to do was get through this last army. That alone was enough to spark some will in his soul. “One last push,” he said aloud, more for himself than Gren. His right arm sparked to life, the dark gauntlet taking for mover his hand and squeezing shut in a fist. He inhaled slowly through his nose and then released it through his mouth.

    And then he charged. Gren took off right beside him, each one of them racing down the hill at full speed. The army began to shift and move, several members of the soldiers funneling onto the path to intercept the incoming God Slayer. They were the first to fall as Mythal gave himself an extra speed boost, flinging himself through the entire front line as a flying punch. He rolled across the ground and popped back up to his feet, throwing punches and kicks to all the enemies that came rushing in at him. He dodged to the left and right as swords and daggers were stabbed at his body, countering back with magically infused strikes. Gren came barking in, sliding beneath the legs of one soldier and biting his ankle. As the angel gasped in pain, he was swiftly planted afterwards by Mythal leaping at him with his fist. From there, the God Slayer siphoned the magic from his gauntlet into his hand, the orb of darkness swirling against his flesh. “Chaos Blast!” He roared as he unleashed a beam of shadow into the foray of soldiers, ripping dozens of them apart in one fell swoop.

    Gren barked in response to the blast and turned his attention to the other side. His growl began to gain traction and volume, as if he was suddenly growing in the instant. Behind his bared teeth, something swirled about. Then when he opened his mouth again to bark, a beam of darkness erupted from his throat and similarly decimated the other direction of enemies. Mythal spun to stare at the hound as the beam dissipated, the small pup coughing a puff of shadow out once before righting himself, licking his chops. “Well that’s not terrifyin’,” he quipped again, smiling at the hound. Gren wuffed excitedly, just as a shadow suddenly loomed over both of them. The God Slayer glanced up in time to see the massive sword of one of the giant’s over them, now beginning to fall towards them. He dove and wrapped up Gren in his arms as he rolled out of the way of the strike. The ground thrummed and lurched from the impact, sending both Mythal and Gren airborne from the strength of the quake.

    As Mythal came down to the ground and landed, Gren rolled out of his grip and hopped up onto his shoulder. As the God Slayer turned to face the giant that had attacked them, the hound growled once more at the other forces behind him. At the same time they burst into action; Gren leapt at the closest angel and wrapped his jaws around its throat, bringing it to the ground. Mythal took off towards the giant, who was now turning to face the God Slayer and bring its sword up once more. Mythal bent at the knees briefly before launching himself upwards at the giant, his right arm cocked and then unleashed as he brought it forward into the creature’s face. The crack of bones breaking reverberated across the immediate area and the giant stumbled backwards. But another, smaller sword shot through the air and pierced the God Slayer’s shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. He was pulled like a dog on a leash towards the top of the giant, where the small, ghost-like creature hovered. Yet Mythal was able to fight through his pain enough to thrust out his foot as he came within the creature’s proximity, divorcing its head from its neck. Mythal landed hard on the giant’s head as it started to fall backwards, the sword in his shoulder dissipating and leaving only a blood wound.

    He leapt back down to the ground, rolling in his landing, and popped back up to continue the fight. Gren rushed over to him out of the mass of angels, taking up the spot right next to his left leg. Angels and beasts surrounded them on all sides, putting them right in the middle of the kill box. Yet none of them were making any moves whatsoever – they all kept a fair distance away from Mythal and Gren, all standing side by side. The clanking of armor and weapons filled the temporary peace with reminders f the dangers that lay all around. Before Mythal could make a move of his own, he heard the oddest sound coming from above; clapping.

    “Now that is the kind of son I expected to have,” Archimedes’ voice bore down on them. Both Gren and Mythal looked up to see the Archangel hovering in the air, slowly descending from the sky. As his feet touched the ground, he ceased his clapping and let his arms drop. “Resistant to the last. And strong to boot.”

    “Come back over here and I’ll remind you how strong I am,” Mythal snapped.

    “Oh I’m good, laddy. That cheap shot ye landed on me is enough to remind me of my follies,” Archimedes’ tone shifted suddenly, angry and insulted. “But I’ll wear that scar as a badge o’ pride after Faera hollows ye body out for her own.”

    “Ain’t gonna happen. I’ll fight and fight and keep on fightin’ until you got no choice but to kill me,” Mythal spat back. Gren wuffed in agreement.

    “Don’t think I cannae feel how weak ye are, how low yer magic is. You’ve put up a good fight but you don’t have much left in the canister. Few more minutes and you’ll be ripe for the takin’,” Archimedes returned to his confident self. He lifted his hand slowly, smirking as gestured towards the man and his pup. “Kill the dog. But make sure you keep the man alive.”

    Their orders issued, the army around Mythal started to move forward. The God Slayer scoffed and fell into a defensive stance, his head moving on a swivel as he checked all his sides. They were completely surrounded and with Archimedes backing them up, now it certainly looked like they had reached the end of the road.  So close to the door and now it felt like they had their backs to it more than anything else. Still, if they had come this far, at least they could say they fought their hardest. As much as the idea of Gren dying sickened him, he knew that they would be together after this. All he regretted was not having had the courage to tell Serilda how he had felt before it was far too late.

    And it was, perhaps, that very thought that brought the light. It shone down from the sky with such an unearthly presence that everyone in the immediate area was blinded. Mythal bent down and covered Gren, fearing that this was some finishing spell meant to render them both defeated. But rather than the two of them losing their strengths, it was the cries of the army around them that drew his gaze upward. The angels and creatures that encircled the God Slayer were… in agony. Their armors and weapons were melting into ash, lost to the air and leaving them unprotected and disarmed. Every one of them grabbed at their skulls and groaned in pain, many of them falling to their knees as the agony became too much to bear standing. The ground also began to shake violently, several of the floating islands just beyond the platform cracking and breaking apart.

    The light came down from the heavens and slammed into the ground near Mythal and Gren, rending the ground into a wide crater. As his eyes began to focus on the particular details of the light, they widened in awe at the sight of familiarity. There stood Xiuhcoatl, her normal dark coat nearly as bright as the sun. She was at the ready, her teeth bared and her fur on end. But if she was here, that meant…

    His gaze turned to see the woman standing just beside her, nearly within arm’s reach. It was Serilda, the white knight who had somehow found a way into the realm to make quite the violent and abrasive entrance. Her armor was different, far flashier and open than she was used to bearing and there was another sheath upon her hip. But without a doubt it was the Voidwalker. His breath caught in his throat as all he could do was stare at her, unable to truly comprehend what was happening.

    Archimedes though… his head was cocked slightly, a brow raised as he stared at the woman. Her voice broken through the agonized screams of the angelic forces, her ultimatum given with the full authority of one who felt she was in charge. Surrender or suffer the consequences – fairly routine in terms of these kinds of deals but all too strange to the Archangel and his forces. Never had anyone dared to hold such a standard to him or his people. A wry, wicked grin tugged at his face as he chuckled, clearly amused. “Aye, lass, aye – now that’s some boldness ye got there,” he said, bringing his hands up to clap once more. “Methinks I far misjudged ye before; ye got some spunk in ye. Mythal, my boy – ye got yerself a worthy lass here. Willin’ to throw herself into the deepest darkness just for a chance to save her beloved… or at least die with him. Ye have my respect.”

    “But that ain’t gonna be enough to save ye.”
    As he finished his words, his body began to shift. His skin ran over with shadow, a purple hue trailing after the darkness that pigmented his skin. His ears began to expand backwards, growing long and pointed as they aimed in the opposite direction. The dark robe he wore tore as bone-like spines began to emerge from his shoulders and forearms, each spikes brimming with magic. Long, black horns thrust out of his temples and slithered towards the sky. Purple, glowing veins appeared in his chest, creating an odd symbol that was beyond comprehension. His hair grew even longer, swinging down low until it was past his rear. Then hideous, demonic-looking wings thrust out from his shoulder blades and spread open, their sharp fingers topped with razors. His eyes filled in with a deep, glowing purple fluid that seemed to fill the immediate area with despair. The final touch to his change was a black halo that wrapped around and above his horns, moving and flowing like a river.

    As he finished his demonic transformation, he snickered. “Shake off your shackles,” he demanded, his voice now deep and brimming with power. He waved his hand and darkness began to flow upwards from the ground around them, hardening and blacking out the entirety of the land beyond the circle. It swallowed up the angelic forces, their cries lost to the shadows as they disappeared within. The dome rose up and completed its formation, locking everyone within its core along with the Archangel. His hand twitched once more and a broadsword appeared in his hand, a long and taloned weapon with glowing purple runes across the flat edge of the blade. “Now then… let us see what you are capable of.”



    Unknown LandsFairy Tail
    5021/12000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    Last edited by BlessedBeatrix on 15th February 2019, 7:26 pm; edited 2 times in total


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair
     
     

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    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by Serilda Sinclair on 11th February 2019, 6:32 am




    "Character counts most when duty calls."



    Serilda had been reassured by Ruzatz’s opinion that the key would be enough, just as she was reassured by him that he and his people would not go down so easily should Faera deign to strike at them for helping her. He was shocked but as relieved as her to hear Mythal’s voice and know he was alive. Once the preparations were made, he gave her a final send off by advising her that once she was inside they were going to have to find their own way out. Serilda nodded her understanding and stepped up to the strange strand of dancing light that the demon lord had created.

    He might be surprised when, just before she left, she actually shot a smile at him in reaction to his last comment. It was a small expression, one that was rife with ill omen for the dark creatures waiting for her on the other side of the rift, but one that was also rich in genuine mirth for the statement. “Oh trust me,” the Voidwalker told him, “I plan on it.”

    And with that, she had stepped through with Xiuhcoatl hot on her heels.

    Darkness swallowed her almost immediately where she’d hovered for a brief moment above the battlefield to get her bearings. The cavern was huge, with several floating islands and strange growths with glowing fissures in them. She could easily see the door back to the mortal realm, which was unmistakable. A sense of pride swelled in her to know that Mythal had maintained enough strength to fight through a veritable army of angels to make it to the exit, but it seemed that was about where his luck had run thin.

    He was surrounded on all sides, with a single angel that seemed to carry himself with more importance than everyone else present. Serilda didn’t get there in time to hear the beginning of their exchange, but she did hear the end of it. The man with the Sevenese accent gave the order to attack, signaling them to kill the dog and capture Mythal. She was unsurprised to learn that Gren was here. He was a stubborn canine with more courage than was probably healthy for him, but the threat to both of them lit the fire of passion that she needed. All that there was to do was draw everyone’s attention away from Mythal.

    I can take care of that.

    The sweet and tender voice sounded gently within her mind, its tone mixed with ire and determination. Serilda blinked in confusion and stared at the Star Wolf in her arms. “Xiuh?” she whispered, momentarily flabbergasted despite herself.

    Later, the wolf told her. Right now we must make haste. I’ll distract them, you bring them down. It was then that the wolf had begun to shift, the darkness bleeding from her fur and being replaced with rippling starlight that blinded everyone in the room. Xiuh leaped out of Serilda’s arms and dropped to the ground, using her inherent magic to boost her speed enough to make an impact in the ground when she landed. Serilda was not far behind, shaking off her surprise and once more being enraged by the dire situation that Mythal had found himself in.

    Between the two of them, the remaining forces of the army surrounding Mythal were stunned and knocked into passivity. As she stood there and took in their gazes with a calculating gaze, the angel that appeared to be their leader began to chuckle. He’d eyed her quite curiously for a moment before settling on amusement over her declaration, which was about what she expected. He gave her a condescending clap as he commended her spirit, even saying he’d misjudged her previously. Her expression did not change, but she did take note of that fact. If he knew who she was, and her relationship with Mythal, then he was likely the one in charge of this whole mess that had landed the fallen slayer here in the first place. There was a good possibility he was even Mythal’s birth father.

    But of course, her words sparked no fear in the divine being. In truth, her challenge was never really meant to invoke fear anyway; it had simply been a fair warning, give it or take it, and the man was inclined to call her on it. Good. It was strange to say, but she was almost glad that he wanted to fight her. All the anguish she’d experienced over the last twenty four hours had turned into a fuel for her simmering anger, and she rather felt that cutting this arrogant monster to pieces with her sword would be a much more efficient therapy than crying.

    Before her very eyes, he began to transform. His skin turned into a purplish black hue, and great spikes protruded from his torso, tearing off his clothes. A strange symbol appeared on his chest, and reptilian wings sprouted from between his shoulder blades. Black energy like a flowing stream rotated in a perverse halo above his head. Around them a great dome appeared to trap them within. His eyes glowed with a dark violet light that stared at her with such intensity she might very well have trembled in her boots out of a sense of fear and hopelessness. And perhaps with any other mortal it may have done just that. He was certainly terrifying to behold, and the logical part of her screamed that she had absolutely zero business tangling with a foe of this stature.

    Fortunately, her indignation over the situation was greater than her fear, and the armor that Ozorith had bestowed upon her shielded her from the brunt of whatever mental effect the transformation might have otherwise had on her. Serilda didn’t so much as balk when he changed his form and leered down at her, taunting her with his words and the display of his power. “Overcompensating much?” she asked, her sarcastic tone unimpressed by his bravado.

    The Unholy Paladin calmly and confidently reached for one of the scimitars on her hip, her delicate fingers wrapping around the black hilt and drawing the weapon forth. As the metal slid from the sheath, it rang lightly with a deep pulse that seemed to irritate the ears of the divine creatures of the room. The sword radiated with such a strong taint of evil that many of the closest angels stumbled back, shielding their faces away from it. Her blue eyes held to Archimedes’ with unwavering focus as she told him, “So be it. But when this ends with your heart in my hand and my likeness in your nightmares, do not say I did not warn you.”

    “Xiuh, help Mythal secure our way out while I put this abomination out of its misery.”

    Understood. The bright Star Wolf turned and trotted over to Mythal and her brother, stopping long enough to lick some of the blood and grime off Gren’s face. The fallen slayer might notice that Serilda had spoke plainly to the wolf, giving her no practiced commands or gestures, yet the animal seemed to more than understand what had been asked of her. She eagerly rubbed her body up against Mythal’s leg, wagging her tail and thrilled to see him even now in this dark place.

    The temperature in the room dropped in a way that Mythal would be more than familiar with. The air thinned as it became more heavily saturated with emptiness than with darkness. Everyone caught in its radius outside of Serilda, Mythal, and the two wolves would find themselves labored for breath and feeling like their bodies were sluggish, almost double the weight as normal. But for Serilda, she breathed deep and relished in the surge of energy her Empty Chill spell gave her. Her magic -- both magics -- felt free and wild within her core, ready to burst free with no more effort than it took to think about her spells.

    A slight crackling sound filled the air, one that Serilda might not have heard at all were it not for the fact that her senses were in overdrive. Ever since Ozorith had put the lacrima in her and gave her the powers of a god slayer, she’d found herself hearing every little thing, smelling distinctive odors she’d never noticed before. It must have been what Mythal sensed constantly, and she had been surprised to realize how dull her own senses once were. Now, she could hear as her magic channeled into her sword and it quickly began to build up a layer of impenetrable ice around it. The frozen black substance cracked and snapped into place until the entire length of her dark blade was covered in the stuff.

    And that wasn’t all. A black glyph in the shape of a spherical snowflake appeared at the ground beneath her feet, where it spun like a wheel. From it, wind snapped to life around her with such intensity that it threatened to tear her own hair out of its bun, her heavy, fur lined cloak snapping wildly around her. It whipped about and ripped at the air in such a state of high pressure that one would know if they got to close it might be at the cost of their own flesh. Her body seemed to frost over with delicate black flakes of snow, not enough to completely turn her skin dark but enough to give it almost a black shimmer as the light from Xiuhcoatl’s body glittered against it.

    Though nothing of her magic yet would tip her hand as Ozorith’s new sword, there would be no mistaking by anyone in the room that she was displaying god slaying magic. The aura of unholy taint, mixed with the black tones of the magic, was more than enough to work out the nature of the magic for anyone who knew what to look for. Likely as great a surprise for Archimedes as it surely would be for Mythal, since the Trumpet only believed she held command over the Void. But now here she was, wielding the very same type of power that had sent Archimedes flying through several layers of buildings only minutes ago -- albeit a different strain.

    And unlike when Mythal had struck him, Serilda was stepping up to the plate fully refreshed and ready to throw down.

    There was only going to be one way to figure out where she stood against him as she currently was. The frostbite slayer had the trump card in her pouch that would send her into Force form and escalate herself as a threat, but she did not want to use that unless she absolutely had to. Markus’ words about slayer Force and how it operated were enough of a warning to her even before Ozorith had taken the time to remind her of the tolls of such a state. This being her first time using any of these powers, she wanted to be cautious and intelligent with her uses of it rather than just letting it all get to her head. Just because she had the power to fight against divine creatures now didn’t necessarily mean she was going to beat them soundly, or even win.

    Using her Void magic to lighten the mass of her body, Serilda snapped forward at a blinding speed. The tip of her dark scimitar was held steady before her in a practiced and balanced middle guard, and just as she got within striking distance of Archimedes her body dropped into the floor and disappeared like there had been nothing but sky beneath her feet. A split second later she shot out behind him, aiming to rake her weapon up his spine. She continued to fly up above him, knowing that her greatest defense lay in continuing to move and not giving him an easy target.

    As she passed over his head, she attempted to slice through the thin membrane that stretched between the ribs of his wings, hoping to hinder his ability to fly. Anticipating him to retaliate with the swiftness that a powerful angel could, she summoned a black glyph in the air over his head. From it dropped a several ton boulder of black ice that materialized from the glyph. With any luck, she’d have timed it right so that when he looked up to swing at her over his head, he’d get smashed by the weighty thing directly in the face. As she continued to fly up above him, Serilda pivoted in the air and snatched the boulder with her Voidwalking magic, ripping it back only to bring it around in an attempt to smash it into him again over and over with each simple flick of her wrist.

    Words: 2161/12,000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    BlessedBeatrix
    BlessedBeatrix

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    Second Magic: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Magic: Incoming...

    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by BlessedBeatrix on 11th February 2019, 6:38 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    Even in his full angelic form, she held a dismissive regard for the Archangel. Archimedes’ mouth pulled back into a wicked grin as he met the woman’s gaze. His aura was the very feeling of despair, meant to suck the courage out of anyone that dared witness his glory and mastery. But yet she did not fall to a knee, nor quiver with fear at her hopeless situation. It was impressive and frankly, he commended her for it. “You are quite strong for a pitiful human. None but those with the hint of Kingdom Darkness can withstand my presence in this form… save for a lucky few. Perhaps your connection to the Void gives you quite the edge. Maybe I won’t kill you just yet – I believe our Holder of Knowledge may want to experiment on you. Though you don’t need to be in one piece for that,” he snickered as he turned his blade about in his hand, better prepping it for the annihilation to come. He watched as Serilda unsheathed her sword and felt the unholy presence almost immediately, scoffing in light irritation from its damned aura releasing into the world around them. “You prepared well – an unholy sword for those most divine. You continue to rise above expectations, girl.” He held his ground, even as his minions clouded in the dome backed off and covered their features. Her weapon would surely hurt, but she would have to make connection for that to happen. And Archimedes had no intention of letting her lay a single strike on him.

    “Serilda…” Mythal finally found his voice, though all it came out was a harsh whisper. How had she gotten here? How had she found a pathway into this realm without opening the door? As millions of thoughts played in his head in an alarmed, confusing orchestra, he was distracted by Xiuhco coming over to him and rubbed herself against him. Gren eagerly ran up to his older sister, proudly showing off the markings of battle still around his face. He was worn and tired for sure but as usual, his spirit was nigh impossible to crush. Serilda issued her order to the hound, asking her to help Mythal find a way out of the swirling storm of darkness that Archimedes had trapped them in. His questions would have to wait – it was far more important that they find a way to survive. Shaking off his daze as best he could, he got to his feet, reinvigorated by the light of the Star Wolf beside him. His eyes pulled away from the approaching battle and went to the wall of rushing shadow just behind him, right where the door to their world lay.

    He approached it quickly, his hand stretching out to pierce it. But the immediate burning sensation that filled his entire limb caused him to cry out in pain and pull the arm back. Black smoke slithered off of his flesh and his skin had turned a charcoal black from reaching into the powerful magic. “Son of a bitch…” He hissed between clenched teeth. But as Xiuhco came closer to him, he noticed that the veil of darkness seemed to weaken. Its absolute blockage of the world beyond wavered and he could barely make out the brilliant white gate behind the dome. “Xiuhco, here,” he indicated to the spot right underneath him with his finger, putting her close to the wall without putting her in danger. Counting that she listened, he would watch as the swirling darkness lost much of its strength. Growling, the God Slayer fueled his magic into his already burnt arm, crafting his gauntlet once more. And then he thrust it into the storm, his fingers stretching out. With his darkness magic clashing against darkness, he could actually feel the magic almost as if it was a tangible object. His fingers wrapped around the weakened storm, his other hand wrapping around his forearm to offer additional strength. He pulled on the dome, the swirling mass warping and wrenching apart from his strength. The sight of the door just beyond became clearer as he pulled on it, literally fighting against a tornado of darkness.

    Both Mythal and Archimedes’ felt the environment drop in temperature, the cooling sensation prickling the bare flesh of all upon the floating platform. Archimedes’ grin turned into a frown as his breath became labored, if only by a fraction. Her magical strength was enough to hinder him, enough so that he was forced to wrap his face in a mask of darkness. Glaring yellow eyes stared out from behind the liquid shadow over his features as he continued to watch the Voidwalker, his relief temporary. But then something new came – something neither man was prepared to feel and experience. The slotted eyes of the mask actually opened wider as the woman’s sword became covered in a thick film of blackened ice. The magic coming off of the weapon was heightened now, enough so that even he was forced to take a step back. “No…” He said softly, his voice now raised in utter shock. “She’s using…”

    “God Slaying magic…” Mythal said in wonder. He had stopped pulling on the storm for a moment, his magical senses going crazy at the new source of God Slaying within the dome. His eyes turned to watch as Serilda’s sword was coated in the unholy magic but its source not from the weapon itself. In fact, he felt it in her soul now – a loud and bright presence that every Slayer was able to feel in one another. It felt as cold as the air she made, her very being like an ominous ice mountain of frozen dismay. He had all the questions in the world for her and wanted nothing more than to ask them there and then. But once more, his priorities were trying to find them a way to the door before more reinforcements came. He shook away his wonder as best he could and returned to pulling on the storm, attempting to tear a gash in its unfathomable cycle.

    “Impossible!” Archimedes declared, slashing the sword in front of him in defiance to the sight before him. As the massive magic symbol appeared beneath her and began to spin wildly, he refused to believe what he was feeling. “This is a trick! There is no way you were a God Slayer the entire time!” But any of his words would not bring down the truth and his tantrum only left him more open for her attacks. Her body rocketed forward at him, her dash bringing the battle to a new beginning. Roaring, Archimedes brought his sword overhead and then back down towards her, looking to cleave her in two before she could even get started. But all he hit was the ground as she merged with the floor nearly as swiftly as she had flown at him. Before he could adjust his stance, she was behind him and her blade found purchase up his spine. The searing, frosted pain ripped through his entire body as his torso jerked forward, an agonized and angered yell echoing throughout the chamber. He spun around, his weapon leading the way in a horizontal strike as he attempted to deliver the same pain to her as she had done him. His senses told him she was above and as he looked up to find his target, all he found was a boulder of ice slamming into him. He roared as he fell back several steps, the mask barely protecting his features from the pain hitting him. It came back in and hit him once more, bringing forth yet another cry of pain. The third time he managed to bring his arm up and grab the icy boulder before it struck his face again. Darkness flowed out of his arm and thrust itself into the boulder, overwhelming it and swallowing it up until it was nothing.

    “You bitch,” he snarled, his wings stretching wide. His magic rushed out of him and glossed over his flesh, creating a dark sheen over his musculature. Now bolstered by his home realm, he rushed her with refreshed speed, practically moving from point A to B within an instant. His sword swung low and hard at her, aiming to slice into her hip. At the same time, his other hand thrust out to the side and released a pulse of dark magic that attempted overwhelm the ground. Inky shadows began to rise from the soil, the thick liquid grabbing at all the occupants and holding like sludge from a marsh. He swung his sword at her a few more times, looking to put her back on the defensive before his free wrist flicked and sent a shadow orb flying at Mythal.

    Luckily for the other God Slayer, Gren was on guard. Despite the darkness on the ground, the Star Wolf growled and then released yet another beam of dark magic right into the heart of the orb, dispersing it into a shower of glittering dark shards. He barked in triumph, his tail wagging as he hopped right in front of Mythal, clearly taking up the role of guardian.

    After several long minutes of fighting Serilda back and forth, Archimedes flew back near the wall, his chest heaving. She wasn’t being overwhelmed – in fact, she was pushing him back! “Insufferable!” He roared as he waved his sword in front of him, rotating it around in front of his body like a clock hand. A circle of shadow appeared in front of him and then exploded outwards, disappearing just as quickly as it had come. But the immediate reaction of the minions in the storm caught everyone’s attention as they began to wail. Their bodies melted into shadows and merged together, the only sign of their individuality being the yellow eyes that popped up in the two masses. From the dome rushed out two tornados of darkness, the minions having been melted into two equally sized storm. As Archimedes stepped back, each cyclone split and went for separate targets; Mythal and Serilda.

    The Fallen God Slayer was only alerted to the incoming danger by Gren, his barks an alarm for what approached. He turned just in time to see the rush of darkness coming at him and he had no choice but to dive away from the wall of shadow, grabbing Gren and Xiuhco at the same time to get them out of harm’s way as well. The breach he had made remained for the moment but he could see the shadows reknitting themselves together. “Bastard,” Mythal said as he backed up, bringing himself closer to Serilda. The two storms spun around them , forcing them practically back to back. “We’ll need to get rid of these things before I can get back to the wall.”

    Unknown LandsFairy Tail
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    Let me tell you, they are fear.


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    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair
     
     

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    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by Serilda Sinclair on 11th February 2019, 10:11 pm




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    Well, he was certainly entertained by her mental fortitude. Archimedes commented on it openly, ascribing her stamina to her Voidwalking magic. Serilda, of course, did not bother to correct him -- he would learn the truth soon enough. His taunts about turning her into an experiment for their glorified librarian was met with about as neutral an expression as everything else he’d said so far. Serilda was not going to allow herself to be goaded by this man or his threats.

    It was subtle, but the archangel did flinch a bit at the presence of her sword. He commended her further, impressed with her skills of preparation. How impressed he would be by the end of all this was up for debate, however, as Serilda highly doubted he would be very thrilled about the outcome of this fight. Her confidence was in overdrive, and it was backed by a very real power mixed with what was currently a bottomless pit of indignation on all fronts. If she were to die today, it would not be easy for the Trumpet of Despair to take her down. Of that, she was sure of.

    Her newly sensitive ears picked up Mythal’s soft mention of her name just a few feet behind her. Still, she did not turn to look at him. Not only could she not afford to be distracted from this fight, but Serilda also wasn’t quite done being upset with him for leaving the way he had in the first place. The frostbite slayer honestly wasn’t certain that she wouldn’t bite his head off, too, once they got a chance to actually talk.

    Xiuhcoatl watched as Mythal tried to pry his way through the dome around them, only to get his arm burned for his efforts. As he hissed and cursed at the pain, the wolf instinctively stepped forward with a want to lick the wound though even she new that likely wouldn’t do any good. Still, as she got closer to the veil with her light form it brought something of notice to the fallen slayer. He beckoned for her to stand closer to the barrier, and she did so without hesitation, fully understanding his commands. Her starlight was able to weaken the darkness, it seemed. Digging deep into herself, the wolf turned up the intensity on the light in an effort to do everything she could to help Mythal pull the veil apart.

    The effort to escape was paused temporarily as the two men began to sense the shift in her magic. The titanium membrane of ice coated her weapon and heightened her cursed aura with such strength that Archimedes himself was forced to take a step back. When Mythal stared a beat too long, Xiuh barked loud enough to get his attention as if impatiently reminding him there were currently bigger problems he needed to be focusing on. Soon, they were back working on cracking through the dome.

    Archimedes was having just a difficult a time believing what he was sensing. He denied the reality of it out loud, certain there was no way she could have hidden such skills the entire time that she’d surely been in their radar. “Well, you’re right about one part,” Serilda informed the angel coolly. “I was not hiding god slaying magic. This is a fairly recent development, one that we all could have avoided if you and your whore god had just left well enough alone. And believe me when I say that I did not want this power.”

    She stared Trumpet down with just as much defiance as the glyph beneath her feet ripped the air apart around her. Her tone was dark and foreboding as she went on. “But it is not a trick, nor is it impossible. You have no one to blame for this but yourself. Make no mistake of that. You pushed me to this point, and now I’ve got more than few bones to pick with you about it. I suggest you prepare yourself for accepting the responsibility of your actions.” Serilda spoke to him like a mother chastising a child for being naughty, a tone that Archimedes likely wasn’t going to appreciate but the noble woman was far from caring at this point. Let him be angry -- it would only make him fight more stupidly.

    As she charged him, the angel brought his greatsword down upon her head only to find it cleaving only the dirt at his feet. Her damned weapon sliced up his back and his enraged roar rumbled across the chamber. As she’d suspected, his reaction time was impeccable as he turned to slice at her with his own weapon, only to get a face full of the cursed ice she’d preemptively prepared for him. Serilda managed to hit him once more with the boulder before he managed to get his guard up, swallowing the item with his own magic and burning it out of existence.

    Well, she had certainly made him mad. He called her a bitch, and all that did was elicit a smirk from her. “Really? That’s the best insult you’ve got for me? How disappointing.” Archimedes stretched out his wings and dove at her, his speed such that he damn near teleported from where he stood to where she was floating in the sky. She managed to bring her weapon up just in time to block the attack, though it hit with such strength that it made her arm numb. Like her, it seemed he was skilled at using both his weapon and magic simultaneously, for even as he attacked her, he called forth an inky substance on the ground to lash out at Mythal.

    Without breaking stride in her own sword attacks, Serilda dropped a spell of her own. The ground froze over in the thick layer of dark ice, hardening the inky substance and freezing it in place. Each swing of his sword was met with defiant expertise as she parried and countered the blows, finding small but effective ways to retaliate even amidst his own attacks. She could sense a strange magic had sprouted from Gren, who dispersed the orb that Archimedes had hurled toward Mythal. She tucked her questions about that to the back of her mind for now.

    The angel’s auxiliary attack toward the other slayer had opened a hole in his defenses, though. “I suggest you stay focused on the enemy in front of you!” she shouted at him, not hesitating to drive the point of her scimitar forward and press him back. Metal clapped against metal, the sound ringing in the dome violently alongside the sound of both of their labored grunts. The wind around her assisted in driving him away, as Archimedes would quickly find that once he got close enough to try to hit her with his weapon the highly pressurized air that surrounded the frostbite slayer was strong enough to cut into his flesh.

    Even when his weapon managed to cut through to meet her, it was met with an almost lack of resistance in her body. There was no mistaking that he was doing damage to her, but it wasn’t nearly as much as it should have been. Archimedes’ sword practically passed right through her, rewarding him with little more than a pained grunt from her that she quickly shook off and only seemed to use to further fuel her anger. If he thought she was insufferable now, he’d be in for a rude surprise when he realized this was only the tip of the iceberg that was her power, now. “What’s the matter?” she asked, continuing to taunt him stubbornly. “Is one ‘pitiful’ little human too much for you to handle?!”

    Archimedes put some distance between himself and her, swirling his sword before him and casting a pulse of darkness that quickly disappeared. The other angels that had been trapped in the dome with them began to cry out in pain as their bodies melted and melded together before bursting forth in the form of two dark tornados with countless pairs of golden eyes. She maneuvered herself closer to the ground even as Mythal threw himself out of the way of the attack that had been forced toward him. He snatched the two wolves with him, sparing them from the attack as well.

    This left the four of them practically centered between the two swirling forces. “Oh don’t you worry,” Serilda replied to Mythal, her tone fierce. “He’s not prepared for the things I have in store for him. Who is this asshole, anyway?” In all the times that Mythal had seen her angry before -- and he had seen her angry plenty of times, usually at him -- he would never have witnessed such a scathful wrath in her as there was now. The typically cool headed woman was still showing remarkable discipline, control, and focus, but there was also a strain of maliciousness in her tone that had never been there before.

    And it was not because of her new powers, nor because of her new title of Sword. It all stemmed from her very real anger toward Faera and her forces for what they had done to Mythal, for what they continued to do to him. They were going to pay for it all.

    The woman raised her sword to the sky, and another glyph appeared in the dome far above all of their heads. It stretched across the entire length of the ceiling and spun like crazy. From it, razor sharp droplets of ice dropped and churned as a black wind ripped through the entire dome from wall to wall, swallowing up the two dark cyclones and tossing them about. Though Mythal, Serilda, and the wolves were spared any pain from the catastrophic phenomenon, Archimedes would be met with no such luck. The storm consumed him and his spell alike, the tiny crystal shards rending flesh and freezing them.

    And Serilda only drew strength from the frozen chaos, using it to double the damaging potential of her own spells. Presuming that Mythal had taken the time to convey to her the identity of her enemy, the noblewoman pressed on with her attack. “Are you just going to cower away from me and let your grunts take the beating for you, Archimedes? I thought you were going to make me shake my shackles.” she shouted at him over the roar of the storm. “It doesn’t matter how much distance you put between us; you are never out of my reach..!”

    Unlike Mythal, who fought almost exclusively hand to hand as an absolute powerhouse of authority, Serilda was a balanced master of both melee and ranged combat. She channeled more of her magic into her sword and a long, thin sliver of a tornado shot from the tip of it in the form of a black funnel. With a shout, she brought her arm around and snapped the tip of it toward Archimedes. It stretched easily across the meters between them and cracked at him like a whip -- which was exactly what it was. She brought the weapon around again for another strike, whipping it at him time and time again like he were little more than a rabid dog.

    Words: 4086/12,000


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    BlessedBeatrix
    BlessedBeatrix

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    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by BlessedBeatrix on 12th February 2019, 4:40 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    “He’s an Archangel named Archimedes. One of Faera’s favorites or so he likes to consider himself,” Mythal explained quickly, his eyes never leaving the swirling mass of darkness right in front of him. “He’s uh… also my dad, technically.” Not that that was an indication any leniency should be rendered to him. Archimedes was still the enemy, without or without the connection of DNA. His head cocked only slightly so he could look over his shoulder at her, taking a moment to take in the absolute rage that seemed to burn out of her like a wildfire. He’d seen her annoyed, he’d even seen her pissed – but this was an entirely new level. It was like she was living within the ocean of her wrath, swallowing down its essence and dissolving into its mass. It gave her plenty of sharp wit and ferocious words but just how wild was it? Already her tone was as venomous as any he had ever heard before. Questions that he certainly would be asking her later, if and when they survived this mess.

    The Voidwalker brought her sword high and created yet another runic symbol in the sky above them, just below the top of the dome. It began to rotate and from its glowing form came an icefall like he’d never seen before. Jagged, shards of ice as clear and pristine as glass came falling from the symbol, crashing down upon the surface around them. A chilled wind roared down from the ceiling and swirled throughout the chamber, taking hold of the two dark cyclones. Each twister seemed to lost its shape for a moment before being reluctantly lifted from their spiraling paths, sucked up into the air. From there they were shaken like toys in a toddler’s hands, ripped from side to side in an attempt to weaken and disperse them. Several of the individual creatures were flung back into the dome of darkness, disappearing into the world beyond but assumed beaten.

    Archimedes was forced to throw up his sword and create a shield of shadow to block the razor sharp shower. Even then several of the droplets broke across the top and sides, tearing into his flesh and carving thin slices that almost immediately froze over. He snarled as he cast yet another spell over himself, his entire form becoming covered in a thin membrane of reflective darkness. He dropped his shield as the ice crystals smashed against his full length barrier, the protective film holding against her wrathful storm. But as his eyes set upon her once more, he bore witness to her unraveling a thin, darkened twister from the tip of her sword and then lashing it at him. It cracked with such force that his body shield splintered along his shoulder, ripping open a wound on his body and causing him to yelp in pain. Another whip came in and slashed across his stomach, opening the shield temporarily to wound him before it healed over.

    As Serilda quite literally whipped the Archangel like a bad animal, Mythal took the opportunity to get back to the wall. With the gripping darkness frozen over by another one of Serilda’s spells, Mythal was able to slide right over to the spot he had started his breach and thrust his arm once more inside. His fingers pulled with a greater strength now, his arm wrenching open the dome’s wall as best as he could make. But right then was when Archimedes let out a thunderous yell, magic ebbing off of him like a wave of heat. His sword lashed through the air and took aim for Serilda’s tornado, the weapon infused with such strength of magic that it would tear the funnel asunder. He swung the weapon back and a wave of darkness rushed towards her, intent on knocking her back from her position and towards the other God Slayer.

    His free hand stretched up towards the sky and the two twisters that had been caught up in the storm were suddenly and violently ripped away from their positions. His fingers twitched and the two cyclones were rushed forward towards one another, slamming into each other with such force that the ground rumbled. They merged together into one massive storm of darkness, the air within the dome beginning to pick up even faster as the torrential storm made landfall and spun in the opposite direction. But it didn’t from its spot, instead acting as a counter current to the ice storm and sucking up the ice crystals that were still falling.

    With that out of the way, Archimedes rushed at Serilda once more. His sword seemed to grow as he swung it, with his speed still maintaining even. He slashed and stabbed and swung in every direction, intent on damaging her despite the fact that his blade passed through her. Soon her magic would wear thin and his darkness would begin to seep into her core, cutting her off from her pool. Then no amount of concentration would keep her from simply passing through his blade – in fact, it was more like his blade would part her body in two pieces before she truly understood her predicament. That was, at least, his very hope. As his confidence began to return, his injuries began to slowly warm and heal as the realm of Kingdom Darkness started to heal its own occupant. Scars were left where the injuries were, showcasing that she had indeed hurt him plenty, but he would certainly be back to full health after several minutes.

    His eyes flickered to Mythal at the wall, finally spotting the tear in his precious dome. He took a moment to part from Serilda, unleashing another wave of darkness at her with a swipe of his sword. His other arm thrust out towards Mythal, his fingers becoming coated in darkness. The God Slayer nearly had a full clearing opened when the dome suddenly stretched out towards him, hands of literal darkness thrusting out from the wall and grabbing him. Mythal balked at them and tried to pull his arm back but the hands already had grabbed ahold of his arm. Strength unlike anything he had ever felt before yanked him off his feet and into the dome, the shadowy barrier swallowing him instantly. Gren barked and charged towards the wall, stopping several feet from it as his senses told him of the danger. He continued to bark at the seemingly never-ending darkness, his eyes tracking through the shadows as Mythal was apparently lifted up towards the roof of the dome.

    Archimedes was already moving onto his next spell, to ensure that Serilda didn’t attempt a rescue of her lover. His sword waved in front of him and another dome of darkness appeared, this time surrounding just the Voidwalking God Slayer. Once she was completely sealed, purple sparks of light would begin to appear within the film of shadow that made up her world. They twinkled much like stars, filling up the space like the night sky. But the stars began to slowly push out from the dark wall, becoming bolts of pure magical, cursed light. She would only get a moment or two to figure out what was happening before the blasts of darkstarlight began to crash down all around her, exploding as they made contact on the ground or her.


    Unknown LandsFairy Tail
    8056/12000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair
     
     

    Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Richie Rich- Rich- Character Application Approved!- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Novice [250]- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Player 
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    Second Magic: Sword of Wrath
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    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by Serilda Sinclair on 13th February 2019, 1:40 pm




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    Well, that was one theory confirmed at least. “I suspected as much,” Serilda replied when Mythal informed her that this psychopathic angel was his father. He’d been far too interested in the fact that she’d shown up to be anything other than a condescending parental figure. “In that case, I’ll be sure to strike with extreme prejudice.” She had absolutely no respect for the angel that had birthed Mythal for the sole purpose of making him a sacrificial lamb for Faera, who had been stalking his own son since he was a boy in an effort to trap him and bring him back into this hellish nightmare of a place.

    Her ice storm swallowed up the two smaller funnels that Archimedes had created, tossing them about so hard that several of the creatures that made up its mass were flung violently from the twisters. The Archangel himself even had to raise his sword up to shield himself from the onslaught, though it wasn’t enough to keep him from being injured when she unleashed her wind whip spell upon him. Several times Serilda struck him with the magical weapon, eliciting yelps of pain from the divine being. While she was busy with that, Mythal went back over to the crack in the barrier. Xiuhcoatl ran over with him, keeping as close as she could so her starlight could continue to weaken the thing.

    Archimedes started to get a bit creative, then. With a furious roar he shot a wave of darkness at her, angled in such a way that if she tried to dodge it would probably hit Mythal. She could already feel the spell was too strong for her to pull away and redirect with her Voidmagic, so instead she simply brought up her sword and braced herself. The dark magic slammed into her body and forced her back several meters, her boots skidding along the slick surface of the icy floor. Serilda growled and grit her teeth as pain poured over her body, but she took it all and focused on keeping it or herself from hitting the other god slayer. Mythal was making a dent in the dome, and if Archimedes was splitting his focus between the two of them it was because Mythal’s efforts were detrimental to what the angel wanted.

    So Serilda was just going to have to double up and keep Mythal’s father focused on her, instead. His magic stung like a bitch, but nothing she couldn’t keep fighting after. While she’d been preoccupied blocking the attack, he’d combined his two twisters into one and used it to counter the effects of her own spell, bringing the air to a stand still once more. It was a smart move, one she’d have to remember down the line should she ever find herself up against another wind mage.

    The Trumpet of Despair charged her then, and Serilda rushed forward to meet his challenge head on. As she did, she altered the Void space of her blade to reinforce it in compensation against Archimedes’ sword growing in size. Once more, the metal of their blades met with a thunderous crash and clanged furiously against one another over and over. This time they were more on equal footing, neither really pushing the other back though this time he was able to land a few more blows on her than before. She noted the way his wounds seemed to heal before her eyes, if a bit a slowly, as well as how there were scars left behind in their wake. On her end, Archimedes might notice that when his attacks did manage to land not as much of her blood poured forth as there should have been, as though the flow of it had been slowed to maintain her health for as long as possible.

    Once more he thrust a wave of darkness at her, in effort to put some distance between them so he could attack Mythal. Serilda jumped out of the way of this attack, if barely, but not quickly enough to prevent Archimedes from forcing Mythal to get sucked up inside the dome. Serilda watched in horror as the man she loved was dragged into the darkness and up toward the roof of the barrier. Xiuh had only just managed to scramble out of the way of getting sucked into it herself, the shadowy tendrils more reluctant to reach for her bright form. She and Gren were both barking angrily at the barrier.

    “Mythal!” Serilda adjusted her stance so she could jump into the air, looking to speed toward him only to find herself trapped in another barrier, this one just for her. Purple glowing magic rippled to life within the dome and crashed around her like lightning. A scream of agony clawed its way out of her throat as her body seized momentarily from the attack. She tightened her jaw and grimaced her way through the pain, using it to further fuel her rage. Even as the attack hurt her, the noblewoman’s connection to the Void sucked the power away, using a portion of it to restore her own magical reserves.

    The barrier obscured her view beyond it, but it could not hinder her Void sense. She did not need to see Archimedes to know exactly where he stood. Channeling her slaying powers, she conjured a series of glyphs that the archangel might be quite surprised to see surrounding him, despite the fact that the woman was currently trapped in his magic. The glyphs appeared simultaneously above, below, and on all sides of him and each unleashed a high pressured wind that pushed at him on all sides with such strength that, if trapped by the spell, he might feel like his entire body was being crushed together.

    While he was preoccupied with that, Serilda stormed over to the edge of the barrier that surrounded her. The Voidwalker could sense that it was, in fact, a globe -- she would not be able to just dip into the ground and escape from underneath it, so she was going to have to try to find another method. She was unsure if this was going to work or not, but there was only one way to find out. Taking the handle of the scimitar in both hands, she raised it over her head and yelled as she embedded the tip of it into the barrier with all her might. The weapon wedged into the barrier slowly but surely, Serilda grunting and leaning over the hilt of the sword so she could put the full weight of her body behind it. Bit by bit it carved away at the divine magic, whittling it away with its unholy length until there was a hole large enough for her to squeeze through. Her armor protected her from a vast majority of the burning effects of the barrier, though calling the passage uncomfortable was definitely an understatement.

    After several gueling seconds, Serilda finally pushed through and stumbled out into the open once more. She wasted no time in jumping right back into action, and with the wave of her sword a thick black fog filled the space of the larger barrier from each wall up to the ceiling. In a matter of only a second or two, Archimedes would find nearly all of his senses greatly inhibited, even his magic ones. The billowing frost was so thick that one would barely be able to see in front of their own hands, and all other senses of sound and scent were heavily damped. Additionally, her magical aura blended in with the screen, making her almost impossible to track through her energy.

    But Serilda could still see Archimedes perfectly, the shape of his form standing out like a sore thumb in her Void sense. She knew Mythal was still trapped in the barrier, but also knew that if she took the time to just try and carve it that she would leave herself wide open to attack once the archangel found her. Serilda was just going to have to trust that Mythal could hold his own in that barrier, which she could more than do. After all, this plane was of his element. By all accounts, he would have an easier time surviving here than she would. The best thing she could do for him was keep Archimedes preoccupied and keep trying to take him down.

    Serilda sliced her weapon through the air before her, unleashing a sharp slice of wind that launched itself from the tip of her sword directly at the archangel, who would have a difficult time seeing or sensing it through the fog. As it raced toward Archimedes, she launched into the air and flew around him in a wide berth, looking to attack him from several angles and keep him off his guard. Tapping into her sword with her power, Serilda flicked her wrist and launched it at the diving being. At the same time, with her free hand she formed a large stake of sharp air and shot it at him, looking to pierce him through his body.

    By the time her sword made it back into her hand she was practically right on top of him, hurling her body down scimitar first at full force over his head. Once more she locked herself in melee combat with him, seeking to keep him close to her. With each thrust and parry of her sword, she flicked another spell at him with her free hand, shooting sharp, invisible darts of air at him to rend his flesh, or to push some of her magic into his sword to try to weaken and break it. If he wasn’t quick enough a black glyph would appear above his head and pass across his body from head to toe, subjecting him to the harsh pain and sluggishness of hypothermia.

    With another thrust of her sword, she sliced the tip of it directly toward his face only for it to come up short. From it’s sharp point a blast of cold, black frost shot itself at his body from point blank.

    Words: 5783/12,000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    BlessedBeatrix
    BlessedBeatrix

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    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
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    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Magic: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Magic: Incoming...

    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by BlessedBeatrix on 13th February 2019, 7:33 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    Archimedes felt he had relieved himself from pain for the moment, as he crafted the secondary dome of darkness around Serilda and began to rain darkstarlight down upon her. He could feel her body getting knocked around like a rag in the wind, each ray of cursed luminesce injuring her more and more. But as he had done nearly this entire battle, he had taken the momentary reprieve for a sign of victory rather than continuing to build upon his advantage. His confidence led him to assume that any little bit of traction he made was a sure sign he would continue to rise while the Voidwalker continued to fall. He was never truly prepared as the woman released more of her magic upon him, his entire form suddenly surrounded by glowing glyphs on all sides. As his eyes went wide in surprised, he had no time to prepare himself as intense, high-pressure wind suddenly shot out from the runic emblems. He cried out in anger and pain as his entire body was pressed in tight, practically curling his limbs in on his torso as he fought against the sheer strength of the gusts.

    It would distract him and keep him occupied plenty long enough to Serilda to escape. Only once she had properly carved out a gash in his globe did he managed to summon up the magical strength to unleash a shockwave of darkness that cracked and shattered the glyphs, relieving himself of the wind. Now crazed with anger, he barely waited a moment upon laying eyes on her to throw his entire form at her, sword swinging across at her head. But rather than feel the satisfying sensation of her flesh being divorced from itself, he was instead treated to a thick, frosty fog nearly as black as the darkness within the realm. He flew through the fog several feet in search of her, his eyes glowing bright and scanning over the curls and subtle movements of the smog. But he couldn’t feel anything – truthfully, within the gaze, he couldn’t even feel his connection to the barrier.

    Archimedes only felt the sudden shift in the air by the time the sharp gust of wind was nearly upon him. He turned to face it, expecting to find the Voidwalker charging at him. Instead his shoulder was torn open once more, his shield flickering from the frosted damage it had received. In fact, the protective layer of magic that covered all of his body did not return to where the slice had hit, the strength of her magic keeping it away. He reached for the wound, his fingers finding the warm liquid that was his blood staining his fingers in horror. But she wasn’t done – her sword came flying out of the smog, held by some invisible force as it slashed and stabbed at him. He moved to parry and block as best he could but was soon further injured as another harsh spell of compressed air came flying in, slamming into and through his left side. Once more his shielding was unable to block it or recover a large open hole now present on his back and front. His movements slowed as pain racked his mind, his sword blocks becoming sloppy and allowing more slashes and stabs to find purchase in his form. He swung at the weapon one last time to knock it away but it found its way back to Serilda’s hand, who was now soaring in to meet him once more. He managed to barely get his sword up to protect himself from her dive, his blade ringing out loudly and sparking as her scimitar slid across the flat edge of his weapon. He fought her back but found himself assailed by prickling darts of air that slashed through his shield and tore open his flesh, spraying more blood over his limbs.

    Another symbol appeared above him and before he could react, his entire body was sapping of its energy through a deep, intense pain. As his mouth opened to cry out in agony from it, her sword rushed forward and unleashed a cone of ice that completely overwhelmed his features, trapping his head in ice and halting any sound from him. And for a brief moment, the entire dome would fall into an unsettling silence. The twister of dark souls just beyond their battle seemed to wither and crack, individual beings falling from its core and crashing into puddles of darkness upon the ground. Archimedes’ sword arm fell, his sword crashing to the ground and melting away much like the minions.

    But then a high-pitched squeal shot through the air, causing Gren and assumingly Xiuhcoatl, to flatten their ears against their heads and whine. The ice cracked and exploded from Archimedes’ face as darkness spouted out from his mouth, pouring over his entire body and covering him in a black film. His body started to grow; a heavy, muscular form carved out of the shadowy essence that multiplied his size by twice what he had been. The hole in his side shifted, painfully wrenching itself up to the middle between his stomach and chest and expanded, opening up into the sharp of triangle. His eyes were now a deep glowing yellow as tendrils of darkness shot out from his neck and wrapped around his head, shadowing him even further.

    The twister reformed and began to spin even quicker. It started to morph and lift itself from the ground, pressing itself flat against the roof of the dome and expanding outwards. Now looking more like her storm from before, it began to release globes of darkness, burning bright with purple and green flames from within their cores. They would fall all over, forcing any and all besides Archimedes to have to bob and weave between them. As they exploded over the ground, they seeped into the surface, creating a thick miasma over the black ice. Archimedes wrenched his arm back and slammed it down into the ground as well, the limb half-disappearing in the ground from a swirling dark portal that appeared there. More darkness rushed out of the new opening, flooding the immediate area and spreading out as his magic went into overload.

    “This darkness will suck out your very soul!” He roared, his voice seeming to come from all over rather than just his body. “Much like it is already hollowing out Faera’s vessel!” It seemed he was implying that Mythal, who had been taken into the barrier, was currently having his soul ripped from his body within the dark confines of the realm. And indeed, if Serilda attempted to freeze the ground, she would find the darkness pushed back but then rushing over the ice to resume its attempt to fill the entire dome with its essence. “You can resist my regular form but when I tap into my Blessing, you stand no chance! Kingdom Darkness is my home and I cannot be defeated here!”




    Darkness. That’s all Mythal could see. It was all he could feel, the shadows a near liquid as it swirled around him. He floated within its confines, weak and limp as hung within the world. He could feel it pressing in on him, its influence trying to scratch through whatever mental and spiritual defenses he still had left. He stared forward, his eyes half-lidded, as the power did everything it could to overwhelm him. He knew this feeling well – it had been the same one he felt all those years ago, when Faera had attempted to take him over. An ocean of darkness, as deep as any one could imagine, and it was pulling him into the deepest recesses. All that fighting and for what; now he was going to be taken over anyways. Serilda had come all this way for nothing. He’d led her, Gren and Xiuhco, to their dooms.

    “You don’t seriously believe that, do you?” A voice asked within the darkness, its tone warped and ominous. The God Slayer’s eyes opened a fraction to search for the source, seeing something moving in the liquid just before him. As it stepped up, somehow its features took on color so that he could see them. And he was surprised to find… himself standing there. His skin was paler, almost gray, and his eyes were a deep gold color but without a doubt, it was him.

    Who are you? he asked inside his mind.

    "The part of you that’s broken. A you that was created when Faera tried to take you over. Your shadow,” it explained, its mouth unmoving as it stared at him.

    My shadow?

    “For years you teetered on light and darkness, never fully committin’ to one or the other. I was merely a speck in the back of your mind then. But as you gave yourself more to benevolence, the more I took form. Your negative emotions had to go somewhere.”

    You’re…evil then.” Mythal concluded, his brow furrowing.

    “Your negative. I’m not more evil than you are good. But we share very little… save for two important things,” it explained, holding up two fingers. “A tenderness for Serilda… and a hatred for Faera and her kind.”

    Why are you here?

    “Because you’re givin’ up. And that ain’t gonna fly with me.”

    Why now? Why here? You’ve never come before when I’ve been in danger. It didn’t make sense to the God Slayer – why was this version all of a sudden appearing before him?

    “Because you’re losin’ yourself in the very essence that you can control. Kingdom Darkness is not beyond you – it is you. It runs in your blood and it lives in your magic. You’ve just never been immersed in it to feel it before. Now you are. This realm holds no danger for you but you have to get up and fight. And you have to do it now before it’s too late.”

    Kingdom Darkness… is part of me?

    “Now take what is yours. Become who you were meant to be. The first Darkness King.” His negative self gave him a soft nod and then turned back from whence he had come, walking back into the shadows of the dark ocean. Mythal was left floating there, questions still bubbling up in his mind. But the thought of Serilda outside, fighting alone, sparked some spirit back in him. His hands slowly tucked in at his sides, fists forming as he found strength for one last push. But rather than push himself towards the surface, which lay just above, he forced himself downwards. Immersing himself completely in the dark waters and searching for what apparently lay deep within the shadows.





    Just as Archimedes was finishing his speech, there was a loud and audible gong. It rang out across the entirety of Kingdom Darkness, the realm itself seeming to be the source of the loud, painful noise. The Archangel froze, his eyes widening in absolute terror as his gaze lifted from Serilda and up towards the top of the dome. From there he could see his darkness storm starting to warp, its core wobbling and shaking uncomfortably. Only a second later did a shadow emerge from it, rocketing out from inside and tearing out a glowing, throbbing purple ball as it fell. The shadow slammed into the ground beside Serilda, seeming to melt into a perfect orb for a moment before it unfolded, taking a more humanoid shape.

    “Impossible…” Archimedes said, his voice rife with fear. As the darkness began to fade from the form, Mythal’s features could be seen through the inky clouding. As he took full form, tendrils of darkness billowing off his shoulders and forearms and a ring of gold now encircled his crimson eyes as he stared at the Archangel. The God Slayer extended his hand upwards, his fingers splaying like he was reaching for something. The storm above, which had been melting into dark clouds, swirled downwards towards him and was siphoned into his palm and, assumingly, into his body. He continued to suction from above, the dome itself now falling victim to the pull and beginning to give way.

    Mythal extended his other hand to Serilda and opened his hand. As soon as it was flat, she would feel a surge of power boost through her entire body. A shadowy halo wrapped itself around the space above her head, moving with her every movement like it was attached. Dark, smoky wings unfurled from her back and then folded themselves for her beck and call. “This is it,” he said softly to her, turning to look at her briefly.

    “Finish it.”


    Unknown LandsFairy Tail
    10159/12000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair
     
     

    Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Richie Rich- Rich- Character Application Approved!- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Novice [250]- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Player 
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    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Voidwalking
    Second Magic: Sword of Wrath
    Third Magic:

    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by Serilda Sinclair on 14th February 2019, 2:50 am




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    By the time Serilda had crawled her way out of his barrier, Archimedes managed to crack and break the crushing spell around him. He was absolutely incensed with anger when he looked at her, charging the woman almost immediately on sight. Fortunately, her thick veil of fog set in before he could get close enough to see where she moved, his sword swinging at nothing. Serilda could sense him turning in place, trying to ascertain her location and failing to do so. As her remote strike bore down on him he barely had time to notice it before it sliced right through his shielding, slashing a large gash upon his shoulder. He felt the injury, shocked at how badly it had damaged him.

    The archangel was then met by her weapon, which kept him fully off his guard for her to strike him with another attack that tore a hole straight through his torso. He immediately wrenched in pain, his attacks and defenses instantly turning sloppy and distracted. Several more attacks from her sword dug into his flesh before she finally called it back to her hand and met him head on. Their swords clashed hard enough for sparks to fly, Serilda grunting with the strength of her efforts to fight him. She sent him into a state of hypothermia, which was just enough of a rattler for her to practically freeze his head in a block of ice.

    He went limp for a moment, dropping his sword completely where it melted into the ground and disappeared. There was an eerie silence in the room, and Serilda wasn’t sure if she had won or not. She presumed she hadn’t but, she took the opportunity while he was disabled to shoot up toward the roof of the dome. “Mythal!!” she yelled, trying to call out to him through the inky barrier. Serilda hacked at the thing with her sword, doing damage but not nearly as much as before. The dome Archimedes had put around her was smaller, thinner, and had been cast after he’d already taken a beating and used much of his energy. This one was far larger, and had been cast at the fullness of his strength. Cutting through it would take longer than she had the time to do at present. She had every faith that he would find his way out, but she was getting worried at how long it was taking.

    A high pitched ringing reached her ears, and she felt the pain ebbing from Xiuhcoatl as the wolf was affected by it. Her own newly sensitive senses were not thrilled at the sound, and the grimaced, turned back to look at Archimedes in a readied stance for whatever he was going to throw at her next. The ice around his head cracked and split apart, tendrils of darkness growing from his open mouth and stretching out around him. She watched with a calculating expression as his body began to grow, almost doubling in size. “That’s not good,” Serilda murmured to herself dryly, mind racking to figure out the best way to assail this new form. She was running fairly low on her magic power, with still a bit more to use but she wasn’t entirely sure it would be enough without the use of Ozorith’s orb.

    Her blue gaze shifted to the twister when it began to alter its speed and form. It was sucked up onto the surface of the dome’s roof, practically melting down its sides and releasing globes of black, purple, and green. She didn’t need to touch one to know that doing so would be a bad idea. Immediately she flew down lower to the ground where she would have more time and space to dodge the things. Xiuhcoatl snatched Gren up in her mouth by the nape of his neck, using her superior speed to keep them both clear of the dangerous globs. Unfortunately, as the things hit the ground they seeped into it and spread, threatening to take over the floor completely. Even her dark ice was consumed by it.

    Serilda, knowing that the wolves were at the greater disadvantage, reached out to Xiuh with her magic and gifted her with the weightlessness of the Void so she could keep from having to step in the inky muck. It was only a matter of time before they would get caught by those falling from the air, however. Serilda knew she was going to have to come up with something, and fast. Archimedes slammed his fist into the ground and expanded the darkness, claiming that this magic would suck out her soul like Mythal’s was currently being done. Her eyes narrowed at him in indignation. She refused to believe that, to accept that Mythal would let that happen to him.

    She was getting ready to give him a piece of her mind at the end of his speech when a loud sound like a gong rattled her sensitive ears. Serilda groaned in annoyance and resisted the urge to cover the appendages, if only barely. She had no idea what that noise was to indicate, though she did take note of the look of horror on the archangel’s face. As Archimedes looked up at the spot where Mythal had been trapped, where the storm of darkness began to twist and warp, Serilda shot her enemy a wry grin. “You should have more faith in your son,” she spat at him.

    A large glob of the shadowy substance fell beside her and shifted first into a nearly perfect sphere before it took on a more familiar shape. Though the colors were twisted from his normal look, there was no mistaking Mythal in his black and tendriled form. He raised an arm toward the ceiling and called the magic of Archimedes’ spell into his hand, sucking it down from the ceiling much to the archangel’s horror. Then, in another twist that even Serilda would never have expected, he turned his free hand upon her and unleashed the magic at her, his body serving as a conductor to convert it into an energy that would serve and replenish her.

    Serilda gasped lightly in surprise as her pools of energy were replenished. She could feel the dark halo circling around her head, and the wings as they sprouted from her back. Somehow, she felt lighter, like she could fly even faster than she had before. Mythal spared only a small glance toward her, his voice soft as he informed her that this was their last push, that now was the time they needed to end this. The Voidwalker nodded her understanding. “Then let’s make sure we do it right,” she said.

    It was time for her own trump card, one that would be all the more lethal in its execution now that she’d had so much of her magic power restored. If anything she needed it still because she was still quite injured from all the fighting, as Mythal’s boosting spell had refreshed her but not healed her. And, since both the men seem to see fit to enter this final stage of the battle in greater forms, it was probably smart for her to do so as well. She did not know how much more powerful this larger version of Archimedes was, and she wanted to be certain that her attacks would land and do the amount of damage intended with them.

    Reaching into her pouch, she withdrew the orb and crushed it between her fingers. There was a brief moment where Seri had time to wonder at how the thing hadn’t gotten smashed in her pocket before now, as it shattered easily in her hand like the membrane of ice that encased it was no thicker than a sliver. But then a literal ungodly amount of power burst forth into the dome, filling it with a violent snowstorm. Black ice and snow swirled in a torrential cyclone, filling the space so thick that sight was night impossible, the roar of it drowning out almost every sound.

    Save for the sound of slurping.

    It was probably the only time in her life that Serilda had ever made such an improper noise. She gulped down every last drop of Ozorith’s power until there was nothing left. Ice, snow, wind, frost, all of it went straight down her gullet and all that remained after it was gone was a deafening silence. Serilda drew in a deep breath before her head snapped back and she roared with the insane amount of power that surged through her. Her body began to alter, her flesh turning a grey blue shade. Serilda’s hair ripped itself free of its bun, a single streak of purple coloring her normally white locks that framed her face. Cracks appeared on her flesh all over her exposed belly, chest, and face, looking almost like stretch marks except that they were filled with ice. Just below the halo, few large diamonds of ice formed in even spaces around her head and took the shape of a crown that floated above her scalp. Her eyes washed out until they were nothing but a solid glow of icy blue.

    Those eyes settled on Archimedes with the calm determination of a warrior that had already won the battle. If he’d been afraid before, he was certainly panicking now as he viewed her in her full form as the Sword of Wrath, completed with the added boost of darkness from Mythal’s magic. As fast as one could blink she was gone from where she’d been and right in front of the archangel, moving so quickly she may as well have teleported. Her sword came down with a righteous fury to batter at his enlarged form, which had only served to make himself all the bigger of a target for her.

    A glyph appeared above his head and large chunks of black hail poured out of it, slamming into the Trumpet’s body without remorse, battering him. Over and over she whipped her sword at him, the cursed weapon divorcing him of both flesh and magic with every swing that he was not quick enough to block or deflect. She waited for the opportune moment where he was at his worst disadvantage before reaching out with her freehand. Her fingers dove toward his chest and passed harmlessly through his flesh, her Voidwalking magic enabling her to bypass the outer layers of his skin to find the more vital organs within.

    There, she found his heart and wrapped it up in her grasp, squeezing it tight enough to nearly send his body into shock. nearly. It was a deliberately controlled vice, one that would keep him alive and conscious but in severe, crippling pain. “Let’s get one thing clear,” Serilda told him quietly, her voice as cold as her magic. “You lost this battle the moment you made me your enemy. It doesn’t matter how many Blessings you have, nor where you are when you use them -- you signed your fate the moment you tried to take that man from me. And now, I’m going to take everything from you.”

    Serilda let go of her sword, idly using her Void magic to keep it hovering beside her. Her now free hand reached forward and placed itself on Archimedes’ head, her thumb going to the center of his forehead while her fingers wrapped around the side of his temple. “Frostbite God Slayer secret art,” she said, the powerful magic charging up within her fingertips until it was nearly ready to burst from them.

    “Purge.”

    The magic released itself, and Archimedes would feel like every nerve and organ in his body had been stricken with frostbite. It was so cold and painful that it would burn with horrifying agony, seeping deep into his body and straight into the core of his magical center. There, it consumed every last drop of magic until he was drained completely dry, until the very wells of it that would otherwise restore the pool over time were broken and cut off. She had stripped him of his divinity, siphoned away the only thing that made him special, the only thing that brought him any value to Faera.

    When the spell was complete, she dumped him unceremoniously onto the ground. Serilda had surely given him a fate worse than death, and by the way she looked down her nose at him there would be no mistaking that she had quite consciously chosen this path over simply killing him. Death was far too kind a punishment for the former archangel.

    “When you go crawling back to your god,” she informed him, “Be sure to deliver this message for me: If she ever tries to come after Mythal again… if she ever tries to hurt him, or anyone else that I care about… if she ever so much as draws my suspicion that she is trying to mettle with the mortal realm, or do anything other than sit here in her shithole plane of existence… I will personally come back here and bring her entire kingdom to its knees, and tear her apart limb from limb until she understands her own mortality.”

    Using her senses, Serilda searched over Archimedes’ body until she located the key that Ruzatz had informed her to find. She leaned down and plucked it from his body, her cold eyes practically daring him to try to stop her in his new, pitifully mortal form. “Anything more you need from this waste of flesh?” Serilda asked Mythal, giving him the chance to say or do anything that he wanted. It was his right, after all. The man was his father, though the circumstances hardly made that a favorable thing. Once Mythal did what he needed -- if he did anything at all -- the frostbite slayer would give Archimedes one final look.

    “Ozorith sends Faera his regards. Now, get out of here before you test me further.”

    Presuming that he took off, Serilda snatched her sword where it hovered and sheathed it as she walked over to Mythal. At some point her weightless spell had worn off the hounds, who had gone to stand over by the fallen slayer while the Voidwalker had finished the battle. Xiuh’s fur was still shining, though it was starting to lose some of its luster as her magic power was draining. Serilda’s own pool of magic was eating up rapidly, but since Mythal and Ozorith’s power had more than fully filled her before she took on her Force form, she could maintain it a little longer.

    She handed him the key, unaware that it was currently useless. “Let’s get out of here while we can. I will not be able to maintain this form for much longer.”

    Words: 8291/12,000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    BlessedBeatrix
    BlessedBeatrix

    Knight VIP Status- Regular VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Slayer- Character Application Approved!- Magic Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Player 
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    Age : 31
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    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Magic: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Magic: Incoming...

    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by BlessedBeatrix on 14th February 2019, 5:53 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    Archimedes had absolutely no words to speak as he stared at the duo before him. His eyes flittered between the two humans, wide in horror. But his gaze lingered on Mythal, standing before him without any reason to even be here anymore. That shield that he was now absorbing and using for his own benefit was meant to put him through such agony that his body would become nothing more than an empty shell. Then he would be able to keep Serilda distracted while his minions picked up the husk and escaped with it, bringing it to Faera. Even if this unbearable woman was able to keep the fight in a stalemate, the Fallen Goddess would get her vessel. But he had come out of the storm, practically looking like he had taken a fresh wash to revitalize himself. And that gong… it couldn’t be possible that he’d heard it. All the factors tugged on his mind as they barreled towards the only conclusion, despite how impossible it was.

    “Darkness King,” he said softly, his words pained and terrified. There had been a legend that none dare speak aloud, prophesized by a rogue angel long ago. He believed that someday, a power would rise from Kingdom Darkness that would rival Faera’s. His right over the realm would be in contention for hers and a great war would begin. Sides would be made, lines would be drawn and in the end, the alleged Darkness King would bring about the end of their way of life. It had been born back when the corruption first started to take effect, while certain angelic beings were still in their right wits. It had been called heresy and cast away, along with all of those that dared wonder and hope for it.

    But all within the realm had certainly heard the sound. It would be a matter of minutes before the reverberant sounds reached Sanctuary Castle, where the Goddess herself dwelled. If she were to hear it… there was no telling what would happen to him. He had allowed her vessel opportunity to embrace the darkness of this world and, by doing so, had brought the prophecy to the forefront of truth. Perhaps that’s why the fight seemed to leave his eyes in that moment, just as the finale was finally coming in at him. His arm slipped out of the portal on the ground, the miasmic flood beginning to weaken and dissipate. He watched in horror as Serilda brought forth an orb and broke it within her hand. The frozen magic within it exploded outwards, filling the entire space with its icy winds and snow. Mythal held his ground, the constant river of darkness still flowing down from the dome above as it began to give way more and more. At this point, he didn’t allow himself to get surprised by anything – save for the sight of the Voidwalker when she reappeared after sucking down the magic.

    She looked as close to a frozen angel as one could be. Both men watched as she rushed the Trumpet of Despair, appearing before him as if she moved from one room to the next. Her swords swung viciously at his completely black form, geysers of darkness exploding out from the chunks of black meat she hacked away. Chunks of black hail pierced his shoulders and head, causing him to cry out in pain and his body to jerk violently. He couldn’t fight against her, could barely keep himself on his feet as she plunged her hand into his chest, her fingers wrapping around his heart with such indignation and fury. He let out a low, mewling gasp, a mere squeeze away from becoming just a memory.

    Her words sounded as harsh as the wind, rippling through his mind like a wintry mix through flesh. He could only stare as she brought her other hand forward and placed it against his head, her magic reaching its peak as she chanted her spell’s name. All at once his world became ice; his veins, his muscles, his bones, all were frozen in agonizing frost that silenced his throat in a visible breath. His form began to melt away, the darkness that armored and protected him retreating off like he was suddenly a plague. His magic evaporated out of him, emptying out his core until there was nothing but a blank memory. By the time the spell had reached its conclusion, he was back in his humanoid form, as bare as a babe out of the womb. His body was quivering as he fell to his knees, his arms tucking in to his chest as reality took over. “Cold… cold... cold…” he repeated over and over again, his eyes a dull gray now that his magic couldn’t enable them to change color. He could barely meet Serilda’s gaze, afraid to meet the frosty stare of the powered woman before him.

    Mythal’s eyes never left his form throughout the entire ordeal, his emotions a blank slate against his father’s purge. As Serilda asked if there was anything more he needed to say, he simply shook his head. This man was his enemy, one that had birthed him as use as a vessel, hunted him for decades, warped his sister against him, kidnapped him and tricked him, attempted to murder Gren and even Serilda. There were no words that could fully comprehend the anger and hatred he felt for the now depleted angel. As Serilda gave Ozorith’s regards to the meek man, Mythal stepped forward enough to stand in front of the crouching, shivering man. He waited until Archimedes had enough courage to attempt a glance up at him before his right fist shot back and then forward in a rising uppercut. The impact against Archimedes’ chest was so loud the ground shook and then off the Archangel went into the sky once more, this time moving at a much faster pace. Within a moment he had disappeared into a speck against the dark backdrop, lost to the realm.

    He glanced over at Serilda as she handed him the key, Archimedes’ way of transporting himself between the realms. Having forgot what the Archangel had said, he turned it around in his hand and pointed it at the door. The key lit in a dark purple aura as its magic attempted to breach the barrier… but failed. “He said we’re locked in here. Only the door can open from the other side,” he spat, suddenly remembering. The key began to dissolve from his hand, its tie to Archimedes’ magic apparently wearing off. He let it fall from his grip as he turned to look around the realm, searching. He thrust his hands outwards into the darkness beyond, his fingers splaying. He began to slowly pull the limbs back and, as he did, shadows from around them began to move. They rose up from the ground, forming into a congealed form. A pair of hands, made of darkness, took full form as his magic latched onto them, flexing both his physical and magical fists. Then he reached out and grabbed a hold of the door’s handles, pulling them tight into his grip and then pulling back. He grunted as he dug his feet into the soil, his physical strength trying to aid into his magical one. There were a few cracks of creaking from the barrier but overall, it didn’t seem willing to budge.

    Then a high-pitched wail, an angered sound that reverberated throughout the entire realm. It seemed the gong had finally reached the Goddess’ ears and she was rightfully upset. As Mythal snapped his head around, glancing in the direction of the sound, he spotted something in the distance. A massive, swirling cloud eye was building up and rushing towards them, easily making the dark storms Archimedes had made look like dwarves. He released his magical hands and spun around, now in a defensive stance. It seemed their fight wasn’t over, even with the both of them on the last straws of their magical capabilities.

    But before he could properly prepare, he heard another noise from behind him. The sound of a lock undoing itself and as he glanced over his shoulder, he watched in surprise as the door began to open. Light poured in from the doorway, spilling over the ground around them and illuminating the floor and their path. Gren barked happily at the illumination, his eager tail wagging furiously as he bounded back and forth, indicating he was ready to go. Indeed, they all probably were. As he turned to the door, he held out his hand to Serilda. “We all go together,” he said softly. Counting that she took it, he would race towards the light with Gren and Xiuhco bounding right beside them, his vision blinded by the warmth of the rays as they all finally left Kingdom Darkness behind.

    Unknown LandsFairy Tail
    11642/12000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair
     
     

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    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
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    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Voidwalking
    Second Magic: Sword of Wrath
    Third Magic:

    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by Serilda Sinclair on 15th February 2019, 2:51 am




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    Darkness King?

    The words Archimedes spoke meant nothing to Serilda, though they clearly meant everything to the archangel -- and nothing good, at that. Even in his bulked up, super powered form he was visibly terrified, staring at the two humans with wide, horrified eyes. Whatever form Mythal had taken, it was clear to the Voidwalker that held great significance to the denizens of this realm. She would surely have questions later, but right now there was no time.

    She swallowed down the magic from Ozorith’s orb, reluctant to admit to herself how sweet it tasted. The frozen elements were like a nectar to her that she greedily consumed, letting its power fill and rejuvenate her. The energy set her body on fire with the adrenaline that coursed through it, and between her heightened form and Archimedes’ state of dismay it was no great feat to dispatch the archangel. He practically stood there, limp and defeated as Serilda battered him senselessly. There was no effort to fight her whatsoever, even as she held his heart in his hand and siphoned the divinity right out of him.

    The black form melted away, leaving nothing but his humanoid body -- which was stark naked. Serilda barely even took notice of it, knowing that it just served to make him all the further humiliated. Archimedes huddled on the ground, shivering and mumbling to himself about the cold state she’d left him in. Serilda gave him zero pity in her gaze. He deserved every shred of punishment he was experiencing just now, after everything that he’d done to Mythal. The fallen slayer’s birth father was a pathetic excuse for a living being who showed absolutely no remorse for the things he’d done to his own son -- let alone is daughter, which Serilda still didn’t even know about.

    Mythal shook his head gently, having nothing to say to the man and regarding him with as equally uncaring a gaze as the Voidwalker did. He only even approached as Serilda was finishing her final commentary toward Archimedes, and once the broken man worked up the courage to look up at his son Mythal wasted no time in rearing back his arm and slugging the archangel in the stomach so hard that he launched into the air and flew out of sight. So powerful was the strike that the ground itself shook, and it took no longer than a second or two for him to be fully out of sight.

    Taking the key from her, the Darkness King tried it on the door to no avail. Mythal grumbled the knowledge that they were currently stuck within the realm, that the door could only be opened from the outside without a key. Serilda frowned. “Surely we can find someone else with a key. It may take a while, but there has to be someone else who has one…” Even as she said it, her voice trailed off a bit when she looked down at Xiuhcoatl with a worried expression.

    The wolf sensed her thoughts as much as her emotions. I will be fine for a bit, Xiuh informed her through their newly developed telepathic link. The magic that the kind lady put on me both protects me from the nature of this realm and has temporarily awakened my latent capabilities. It will wear off in a few hours, though, and once it does the air here will be poisonous to me.

    She frowned. “But then how is Gren surviving?” Serilda asked, looking over to the pup that seemed to be having no issues whatsoever with breathing or living.

    I am not sure.

    The quick conversation took place as Mythal attempted to force the door open, reaching deep into his new magic and calling forth great hands of darkness to pry at the handles. They creaked and groaned but did not give way, even under the man’s immense strength. Even in her Sword form, Serilda knew she did not possess enough power to help make any kind of difference. The door was beyond their ability to open from this side without finding an active key they could use.

    Matters were only made worse when a shriek was heard from across the distance. Serilda turned and looked out toward the heart of Kingdom Darkness, where an immense storm was brewing. She could only guess it was Faera, given the strength of the magic and the way that Mythal pivoted and immediately set himself into a defensive stance. Serilda fed off his cue, unsheathing her sword once more and holding it at the ready. Did she have enough magic to fight the goddess herself right now, even with her slayer Force activated? She didn’t think so, truth be told. Her reserves were quickly being burned through with every second that she maintained the heightened state, and it would only burn through faster once the fighting started again.

    But she refused to give up here. They had come so far. Serilda had managed to get into Kingdom Darkness, to save Mythal before he could be killed or used as a vessel. Only a single, bright door stood between them and freedom, while an ominous and rapidly approaching cloud of shadows promised their demise. It couldn’t end here. Not after all this. Surely there was something they could do to protect themselves, somewhere they could hide away and survive until they had regained enough strength to find their way out of this miserable place…

    As she braced herself for the inevitable, a most unexpected thing happened. A light clicking sound was easily heard behind her, and despite the impending catastrophe Serilda turned to look over her shoulder. The door back to the mortal world opened, seemingly of its own accord -- which surely it couldn’t do, but yet here it was all the same. She stared at it for only a moment in bewilderment before Mythal stretched his hand out to her. Gren was barking and wiggling with excitement, ready to leave this dismal place. Xiuh was also quite pleased with the turn of events, barking along with the smaller pup and looking back at the two humans as if wondering what they were waiting for.

    The noblewoman took Mythal’s hand and raced with him toward the light, both of the wolves hot at their heels. Behind them, she could sense Faera drawing closer, her presence becoming stronger, but the enraged goddess would not catch up to them in time to stop them from leaving.

    The only thing that prevented her from being totally blinded by the light of the sun when they stumbled out of the door was the fact that Xiuh’s coat had still been shining brightly enough to keep her eyes at least semi-adjusted to light. She looked around for a moment, briefly trying to find who ever had opened the door for them and finding no one. In a moment of clarity, she looked back to the still open door and rushed back over to it, pulling on the handle and slamming it shut before anything or anyone else could emerge from it. A second light click told her that the entrance had sealed itself.

    She looked around the area, finding them deep in a desert ravine. Each of her senses told her that there was no one nearby. Whoever had opened the door for them, they were long gone and hadn’t left any trace to identify them that she could see.

    With a gasp, exhaustion overwhelmed her and she dropped to her knees. Her Force form shed itself with the depletion of her magic energy, her skin returning to its normal pale flesh and her hair to its stark white. Blue irises stared at the dirt floor as her body shook from the shock of returning to normal after such an intense ride of power. Was this what Mythal had experienced back around Christmas? Serilda gasped for air, despite the fact that she didn’t typically need to do so.

    They were alive. They had made it out, all of them in one piece. She had accomplished the impossible, and it was going to be a while before even she would come to grips with that. Yet here they both were, against all odds. She had gotten to him before it was too late, and every step she’d taken to get there had been just enough to make it happen. Serilda was so relieved that for a moment she just sat there, curled up into a loose ball on her elbows and knees, breathing in the sweet air and relishing in the surreal knowledge that they had won.

    And then everything else came crashing down on her. The things she’d had to do to make it this far, to get Mythal back. Her entire encounter with Ozorith, having to run to Ruzatz to beg for his help, waking up after the worst day of her life to find that Mythal had left her to go die by himself, with nothing but a letter to vaguely explain himself and to express his feelings…

    Straightening up with a sudden -- if mild -- second wind, Serilda turned to Mythal and slapped him across the face. Given her heavily weakened state, it didn’t hit him with nearly as much force as it could have, even without magic. Her tired expression was wrought with a mixture of anger, grief, and most predominantly fright. She had almost lost him today, after everything else she had gone through in the last twenty-four hours, after countless weeks of him giving her the cold shoulder and pushing her away without explanation. He had run off on some suicide mission and left her behind with no information for her to follow, leaving her to grasp at any and every avenue that she could to find him and help him.

    “What the hell, Mythal?!”

    Words: 9952/12,000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    BlessedBeatrix
    BlessedBeatrix

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    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Magic: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Magic: Incoming...

    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by BlessedBeatrix on 15th February 2019, 7:25 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    Fresh air and sunshine never felt so good as this moment.

    Bursting through the breach between realms, Mythal stumbled forward and nearly fell over as they fell through back to Earthland. He placed his hands on the ground to keep himself from going completely flat and turned back to look as Serilda slammed the door shut. It locked loudly and then, before their eyes, began to melt away. The frame melted into glittering white particles, flowing up into the sky above them. Before long the entire portal was gone, suctioned into the air and dissipating into the natural world. The realm of Kingdom Darkness was gone… for now.

    Mythal sighed as his vision turned back to the ground, letting out a long and deep breath. He felt his new power retreating internally, his eyes returning to their natural crimson and the wisps of darkness fading into nothing. It was gone just as quickly as the door had been but for how long? Was this something he could access after the fact? Only time would tell. For now, he was glad to be far away from anything involving Faera and her realm. His fingers curled into the soil, feeling the tiny pebbles buried in the dirt and smiled in spite of himself. He closed his eyes and lifted his head up, quite literally basking in the sunlight.

    At his eyes opened, something metallic caught his eyes. There was Curse, stabbed into the center of the ground. Hanging from its guard was the keyword he had taken from Key, dangling and jingling as it swayed. It was beginning to fade away from its use, glittering in the same white particles that the door had faded from too. As Mythal staggered to his feet and over to his weapon, he spotted dark marks in the sand. Burn bruises on the earth from… a lightning strike.

    “Gren…” he grumbled, shaking his head. So that's who had opened the door. How did he know to do so? Who even knew at this point -- the old man seemed capable of appearing where he needed to be… or didn't need to be. As he pulled the sword from the ground, he looked around the immediate area. His eyes widened slightly as he realized that this was the Ravines of the Lost. They were down upon the platform that he had first used to get into the dark realm. But now the fog had cleared away for some reason. As his eyes looked about, he could see the clay and dirt walls around them, rising up to the scarred surface beyond. Had their defeat of Archimedes caused this?

    He felt Gren brush against his leg, wuffing as he wagged his butt against him. The God Slayer smiled down at the hound as his questions were temporarily forgotten. He could wonder later -- now he should be enjoying the fact that he was alive at all. “Listen, Seri…” he started as he turned to the Voidwalker, ready to start some kind of explanation.

    Her slap hit him with such surprise that he fell to the ground. It hadn't been very strong but he has half-turning and not expecting it so down he went. He sat on the ground for a beat, staring wide-eyed at her feet for a moment before all his own questions and emotions came boiling to the surface. With it came the strength to literally pop up to his feet in front of her. “What the hell me?” he snapped back. “What the hell you? What is with the ice and the wind and the snow and the magic and the outfit and how did you get in there and and why are you a God Slayer and how are you a God Slayer?!” His words came out in such a rapid fire rate that he may as well have jammed them all together. Now that his mind was clearer, he wanted answers from her.

    Unknown LandsFairy Tail
    12316/12000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair
     
     

    Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Richie Rich- Rich- Character Application Approved!- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Novice [250]- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Player 
    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
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    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Voidwalking
    Second Magic: Sword of Wrath
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    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by Serilda Sinclair on 16th February 2019, 4:40 pm




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    Serilda was far too busy coming down from her magical high to notice Mythal’s sword stuck in the ground, nor the keysword that was dangling from it. Her blue eyes didn’t in the burn mark on the ground, nor the details of the strange ravine that they were in. She barely even noticed through her magic how Mythal moved about, or how Gren rubbed up against his master’s side, nor that Xiuh had come over and was gently licking her face. Somehow, Serilda had idly managed to raise a hand and run her fingers a bit numbly through the wolf’s fur, but it wasn’t more than a few seconds after that which clarity hit her and she lashed out at Mythal.

    Though she hadn’t hit him hard, he had not been expecting the slap and it was enough to knock him down on the ground. Mythal sat there for only a moment processing what had just happened before he, too, was back on his feet with plenty to say. He threw together a string of questions that came out in a single sentence, like his brain was working faster than his mouth. “No, you don’t get to be mad at me!” she informed him hotly, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “What the hell were you thinking?! Running off to fight Faera and her army by yourself? I did what I had to do to help you!”

    Her anger had come back in full force, though she was far too exhausted for the display to be anything like what she had displayed toward Archimedes back in Kingdom Darkness. Moisture was building up in her eyes from the rage and the anxiety coursing through her veins as she looked at him. “What did you expect me to do, Mythal? Did you think I was going to just sit there and accept that you were leaving, that you were probably never going to come back? Did you really believe I would have been able to live with myself knowing that you had gone off to go get yourself killed without me there to try to help you?! I told you back at Oak Inn that you weren’t going to fight this alone anymore. I promised you I was going to be there to help you kick that bitch’s face in whenever she tried to show it again, so that you could have someone there to support you!”

    Tears of rage streamed down her face, cause it seemed she hadn’t done enough crying yet in the last day. Despite this, her voice lowered in volume as she continued, eyes locked on his. “I wasn’t going to leave you to die alone,” Serilda told him slowly. “So I did what I had to do. I hunted you down anywhere I thought I might find you, and when that didn’t work I contacted the only person that I knew could help me, the only person who could give me the type of power I’d need to fight a god.”

    “I took the job, Mythal.” As before, Serilda wasn’t happy about it, nor was she proud to admit it. In fact, she almost seemed to break a little as she admitted to him that she’d sought out Ozorith and accepted his offer. “I took the fucking job. Ozorith gave me the powers of a God Slayer, and then I went to Ruzatz and begged him to send me to Kingdom Darkness so I could try to save you. And you don't get to be mad at me about it, not after everything else I have already been through!”

    She was shaking now, her body quivering from a mixture of anger, fear, exhaustion, and a million other things. The woman was quickly coming apart at the seams before him, a stark contrast to the confident and focused tempest of wrath she had been only minutes ago. “I have spent the last couple months thinking you didn't want anything to do with me anymore, thinking you'd had your fill of me, thinking I had done something to upset you or make you not want me anymore. I have sat there for weeks knowing that something more than just your father showing up has been bothering you, and torturing myself over any possible reason why you couldn't trust me enough to talk to me about it, feeling like I couldn't come to you with the things that I needed help with because you were already dealing with more than your share of troubles.”

    “I didn't get blitzed last night because I found out Hugo didn't love me. I went home and drank myself into a stupor because when he told me that no one would ever be able to stand me long enough to love me, I realized I couldn't confidently tell him he was wrong.”

    “And then I woke up to your stupid letter,” she said, her voice raising again as the intensity of her tears picked up and she punched him in the shoulder for emphasis. “And I thought I was never going to see you again. I thought you were going to die, or get stuck in some trap, and I was going to have to spend the rest of my life never knowing what happened to you, or if I could have been enough to make the difference between you getting killed or coming back home to me!”

    She punched him again. “Seriously, Mythal, what the hell?! Did you really think I was going to be able to pick back up and move on without you? Gods, I hate you so much,” Serilda told him, hitting him a third time and then a fourth. The way her voice broke as she said it was more than enough for him to know that hate wasn't the correct word, but still so mad and frightened by everything she'd just gone through to speak with any sense of rationality. “Don't you understand that I would rather die beside you than spend the rest of my life without you in it? That I would never have recovered from never seeing you again after learning how you felt this whole time? You're such an asshole!” Her fist flew out again to hit him.

    Words: 11,060/12,000


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    BlessedBeatrix
    BlessedBeatrix

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    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
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    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Magic: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Magic: Incoming...

    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by BlessedBeatrix on 16th February 2019, 6:51 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    “I don't what?!” he yelled back at her, clearly exasperated by the bold statement. She really thought he had.no right to get mad? After she countered his stupid suicide mission with one of her own? He opened his mouth to yell more but she cut him off once more, her words as sharp as daggers as sliced into him. She was as angry as he had ever seen her, somehow finding energy enough to scream at him with such indignation. She attacked his choice in vivid detail, asking him what he had expected from her, given what he had done. He had expected this wrath, sure… but he hadn't expected her to do anything as stupid as him. “I had no choice! I had hours, maybe, before she supposedly recreated the same ritual that birthed me. If not, they made it quite clear they could cause damage to anyone I ever looked at. I did what I had to do to limit the damage. I didn't have time to think about promises; all I could worry about was stoppin’ them from hurtin’ you, from hurtin’ everyone! But you had a choice - you could have prepared everyone here for what could have come but instead you came chargin’ into that damn world on the same stupid mission I was on!” At this point he was just yelling to yell back, fighting against her wisdom with his own stubbornness. It was no different from their first fight, as they struggled against one another in Desierto. Ironic that they were out in the middle of another desert as well.

    Seeing her cry and cringe now tore him apart and he had to fight back his own tears. He stood there as she told him how she had finally given into Ozorith and allowed him to take her own as a vassal. He ground his teeth together and shook his head softly. They had been in agreement that doing anything the demon wanted was absolutely against their better judgement. No matter the cost, she couldn't agree to any terms of his. But apparently there had been one purchase of moral that she couldn't surpass, one she couldn't let pass by. How stupid was he to think she'd just let him go?

    Once more they revisited their divergence the past couple months, the distance formed from his sudden fear of love. She told him tearfully how she had been there, thinking she had caused the divide, that she had been the one to drive a wedge between them. Their divide had made hesitant to approach him, afraid his own troubles were too weighty to take on anymore. His fingers dug into his palms as his anger and pain showed itself plainly on his face as she told him about her choice to get drunk, how she had been afraid his ex bastard of a husband had been right. Her fist hit him square but he didn't budge, his body only shifting only a fraction from the impact. She screamed at him again, her words as heavy as her fist as it lashed forward with almost every statement.

    “I am not worth dying for,” he spat at the ground, his aching mixing in with his anger. “After everythin’ that had happened with your idiot of an ex, I couldn't bear the thought of tellin’ you what was happenin’ and leadin’ you to doom. I'm not a whole person -- I'm half of that piece of shit that just tried to kill us. I'm corrupted, I'm broken and not worth anyone’s time. But I can fight and if I had the chance to end Faera, bring everythin’ to a stop, I had to take it.” He raised his gaze to look at her, tears teasing the edges of his eyes. “I told you that what was happenin’ to me was because of me. It was my own mind, my own emotions. You had done nothin’ and I told you that back on Sphere Island. Everythin’ was gettin’ to my head and I could barely function, let alone try and figure out my feelings. Because how could I explain my feelin’s without soundin’ like an idiot? Without soundin’ like a cliche when nothin’ could be further from the truth?!” His voice raise again as he got himself ramped up. “I went out this mornin’… yesterday mornin’… whenever the hell it was, to collect my thoughts. I was ready to finally tell you what had been happenin’, to tell you how I feel and then Archimedes showed up and tore my entire world apart. Only to tell me the reason I was afraid of my feelin’s was because I'm his son and have a connection to that stupid realm. So yes, I went there stupidly to try and punish him, punish them all. I wanted to bring down the entire world because they had robbed me of the ability to tell you outright, without hesitation, that I fucking love you!” Now the tears broke past his eyes, peeling down the side of his face and dripping off of his jaw. “I had to stop them. I would die a thousand deaths to keep them from getting to you. And I couldn't bear the thought of leadin’ you to doom too. Not after everythin’ that had happened.”

    Unknown LandsFairy Tail
    13228/12000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


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    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair
     
     

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    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
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    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Voidwalking
    Second Magic: Sword of Wrath
    Third Magic:

    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by Serilda Sinclair on 16th February 2019, 11:46 pm




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    Mythal did not appreciate being told that he had no right to be mad at her, but as usual when they got into a row Serilda didn’t care if he didn’t like hearing what she had to say. He explained to her once again that he wasn’t given a choice, this time going into the details that he had failed to put into his letter: the knowledge that Faera was supposedly prepping to undergo the same ritual with another infant that she had tried to do with him decades ago. He was yelling at her just as much as she was yelling at him. It had been sometime since they’d been this angry with one another, though for once it was coming from a place of fear and concern over the safety of the other rather than from misplaced assumptions and misunderstandings.

    He said nothing when she admitted to him that she’d agreed to work with Ozorith, though he did shake his head a little. There was moisture in his own eyes, which caught her by surprise but didn’t stop her from continuing on with saying her piece. Had she ever seen him cry, she asked herself? Had she ever seen him even get close to it?

    Serilda almost exploded on him again when he told her that he wasn’t worth dying for, a truly indignant rage bubbling to life deep in her core, but he continued on and didn’t give her a chance to say anything about it. Instead, he went on to tell her just how little he thought about himself because of his heritage, which only served to make her more and more mad. Her hands clasped tightly into fists and she very much looked like she might punch him again. Somehow, she refrained. He reminded her of their brief talk on Sphere Island, and what he’d told her in the letter that everything that had been going on was his fault and not her own. He told her how he had made up his mind to finally tell her how he felt when Archimedes showed up at her very own house and confronted him, feeding him the very information that was even now still tearing him apart.

    He expressed his fury at how he’d been robbed of the chance to tell her in person that he loved her, and it was at that point that his own tears finally did begin to fall. That, in turn, only made her cry harder. She’d never seen him this emotional before and as mad as she was, she did feel for him. “I never asked you to protect me, Mythal. I asked you to let me fight by your side. If Faera really was about to try to unleash hell on the world, then you should have brought me with you so we could make sure she didn’t get that chance! What would have happened if you alone hadn’t been enough? There was only so much preparation I could have done, especially with so little detail on what was going on when you left. If you had failed, and Faera truly did have another vessal ready to use, then I would have been doomed anyway along with the rest of the world!”

    Her tone was starting to soften now, giving way more to sorrow and anxiety over all the fearsome things she’d been dealt with moreso than her anger. Perhaps it was the sight of him crying, maybe it was finally hearing from his own lips how much he cared for her, or maybe she was just too weary to be mad anymore. No matter the reason, she finally surrendered to the relief she truly felt that they were both still alive. Serilda choked on a sob and closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face against his chest.

    “Please, stop telling yourself that you’re worthless,” she begged him. “Stop feeding that man’s cruel lies. It doesn’t matter if you have his blood in you. You’re not defined by your bloodline, Mythal, you’re defined by what you do and the choices you make. Archimedes has never cared about you. Why would you ever listen to him?” Her voice was slightly muffled from her mouth being pressed against his clothes. Serilda held him tightly, like she was afraid if she let go he might leave again. “He may be your father, but he doesn’t know a thing about you, and he will never love you because he is incapable of it. You are not your father, and I don’t care if you’re broken or not fully human, I love you the way that you are. So stop telling yourself that you’re worthless, because you mean everything to me, and if I had lost you…”

    Her voice trailed off as she was overcome by sobs and she gripped him tighter. The reality of everything was crashing in on her, leaving her a trembling mess of emotions. She could not bear the thought of trying to live her life without him, and if she hadn't found a way to track him down she may very well have had to do so. But she hadn't. She had found him, he was here with her, and they had managed to make it out of that horrible place. “Mythal, I don’t know what I would have done…” she told him, her broken voice barely more than a whisper as she wept against him and finally released all the pent up fear and confusion.

    Words: 12,008/12,000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    BlessedBeatrix
    BlessedBeatrix

    Knight VIP Status- Regular VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Slayer- Character Application Approved!- Magic Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Player 
    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
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    Age : 31
    Mentor : Nessa Cordelia Lux (Former)
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    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Magic: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Magic: Incoming...

    Re: Light in the Darkness Finale

    Post by BlessedBeatrix on 17th February 2019, 12:59 am

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    She pushed back against his words yet again, explaining that she’d never asked him to protect her. She rationalized that even with his warning, there would have been very little she could have done to prepare, which was true. His going to Kingdom Darkness had been a complete and utter gamble that would have saved the world or ended it, dependent on his success or failure. But that wasn’t the point. “I didn’t ask you to come save me either!” He shot right back at her, though it was really the only thing he could spit back in her face. His energy in the fight was wavering now, his relief over the fact that they were both alive far more focused in his mind than anything else. His hands rolled themselves out of fists and he stood there, almost uneasily, as she held her ground for only a moment longer. Then the next she was pressed against him, her arms flung about his waist and pulling him to her. He grunted a bit in surprise before his arms came up and wrapped around her as well, feeling her tears wetting his bare chest.

    She protested his words and downtrodden thoughts with great disdain, insisting that he stop basing who he was based on where he came from. He stared down at the top of her head as she tore through his self-inflicted insults with encouragement and confidence, insisting he was not his father and he was better than that. His opinion didn’t matter, only the people that truly cared for him did. And despite all his flaws, spaces and weak points, Serilda still loved him for who he was. He was everything to her and if she had lost him, she simply wouldn’t have known what to do. Hearing her words stabbed at his heart with such a sharp knife that it nearly took his breath away. Both pain and warmth flooded his body as he realized what he could have put her through, along with the tingling feeling of her words to him. Still tears fell from his eyes as he sunk to the ground slowly, coming to his knees completely with her still pressed tight against him. His hands came up and slowly and took hold of her cheeks, managing to wrestle her out of the hidden spot she had made against his chest. He lifted her face enough to look at him, so he could take her in fully in the moment. The sapphires in her eyes seemed to sparkle in the light, reflected in the tears that clung to her lashes.

    “I’m sorry…” He said softly, the fight within in now completely gone. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers as he fought back breaking down completely, the constant stream of liquid staining his cheeks unlike they had ever done before. “I’m so sorry…” he muttered again, grinding his teeth together. “I couldn’t stand the thought of puttin’ you through that. I couldn’t stand the thought of losin’ you in there. I nearly lost Gren and that almost broke me. If it had been you…” He took a moment to collect himself, mentally reminding himself that both the hound and the Voidwalker were safe. He took a shuddering breath as he looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Seri. I just…” What else was there to say? Really only one thing swam above all the confusing thoughts and pain and aches and exhaustion that racked his beleaguered and beaten form. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner…”


    Unknown LandsFairy Tail
    13823/12000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________


      Current date/time is 22nd February 2019, 10:01 am