Where Angels Fear To Tread

How long had it been since she had last stood in the realm of her kin? Centuries? Millenia? Eons? So long that the memories were almost as though they had been lived by a different person. Such was the bizarre situation that Medeia found herself in now. Finally, the angel would return to where she had been born and finally would she be able to carry out the threat that she had made to the last angelic soldier that she fought. The war between herself and her family had been started anew and the witch knew that the only true way to finish it was by striking where it  hurt the most, by returning to where it all began and burying all those who remained. There would be no mercy, no second chances and no chance of things ever starting up again. It would be brought to ruin and the only member of her family to remain would be her. Only then could she move forward and put her past behind her, for good this time.

In order to return, the fallen angel had been forced to delve into the darkest magics that she possessed, as well as accessing the information that she had been granted by a recently found book. The Tome Of Glory, it was called and its knowledge had imparted her the wisdom required to take on the enormous task that lay before herself and those few that she had asked to accompany her. It would have been selfish of her to take this mission on alone, knowing full well that she was not the only one who had scores to settle with the angels. No, there were others who had been sinned, those who were closest to her. Would she call those around her a new family? Well, perhaps but as the group approached the large portal that the witch had painstakingly created, that was honestly not the kind of thought that was at the forefront of her mind. Today, she needed to harness all of her power, all of her hate and all of her desire to destroy. There was no other option that was acceptable.

The portal itself was large, three to four times the height of the average person and the same in width. A multi coloured road could be seen inside the gateway, leading to an angelic looking castle made entirely of angelic magic and yet, it did not look angelic anymore. The corruption had seen to that and the once holy golden colour was now tainted with black and darkest purple. The colours of darkness and more importantly, the banner colours of Medeia herself. She had been the first angel in her sect to ever rebel against her kind and for that, she had been cast out. Yet, the mark that she had left upon her kind remained and if the castle was anything to go by, it had spread greatly. Would they have come after her so strongly if they were still truly Holy? No, they would have simply left her be and accepted things as they were. More than that, they would have stuck to the agreement that Medeia had made with her father, when she defeated him in battle. It should have all ended there but no. Now her brother was on the throne, a being that was as arrogant as could be, obsessed with nothing but pride and his own ego.

Walking just behind the witch was Armina, Medeia’s loyal maid and oldest companion. Her expression lacked its usual joyfulness and she instead looked even more grim than Medeia. She knew as well as her mistress as to the difficulty of the task at hand and the hatred that lurked within the purple haired woman was deep. Her own memories plagued her endlessly and the encounter that she and Medeia had with Scrooge and his spirits had only brought them back to the surface. His spirits had broken through her mental defences and brought back her horrible experiences with the males of the sect. With her mistress banished, she had been the one that the most cruel angels had decided to punish instead, forcing her to take part in acts that were unspeakable. She wanted vengeance and for once, her mind was set firmly on the task at hand rather than making flirty comments towards the other pretty woman that was accompanying the duo.

At first, Medeia had been unsure as to who to ask to accompany herself and her maid on this most dangerous and possibly reckless escapade. Truthfully, there were few mages that she knew and trusted enough to ask on such an endeavor but in the end, she had not gone to her own guild for aid but instead the coven that she had become affiliated with. They shared the duo’s hatred for angelic beings, having been set against them for centuries in what seemed to be an endless war. That had been the factor which had eventually caused her to reach out though and much to her delight, Temperance, her fellow witch and former mentee had agreed to help. Medeia knew the strength of the thief, having seen it first hand more than once and was more than confident that she could hold her own. She would have to be at her best here, as the only other result was a first class trip to Hell, a place that Medeia had encountered herself and not one that she would like to visit again too soon nor wished for her ally.

Coming to a halt just before the portal, Medeia would stop and turn to the other women, a rather no nonsense look on her face. “Well, here we are. The gateway to where Armina and I once called home. Do not expect any mercy or restraint from the beings that we find here, as I can assure you that they will attack first and not ask questions at all. As far as they are concerned, we are simply insects that need to be eradicated. We must treat them in the same way in order to survive. Our sect was once holy but they have now been stained by corruption and have become greedy and prideful, rage filled and fearful. There is only one way for this to end, with the annihilation of that castle that can be seen through the portal and my brother’s head on a plate. Only then will it be finished. If any of you wish to turn back then do so now. I will not think any less of you but know this, I cannot guarantee a way back once we go through.”

Armina simply drew her axe and replied grimly, “Mistress. They treated my body like their own personal toy and the only person that I will ever allow to do that to me again is you. I want them as much as you do. Lead the way.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Medeia’s face and with a nod, she then turned to Temperance and her spunky exceed, Hex. “Are you two prepared for this? I know that you are both strong and we are going to need every drop of strength that we all have in order to survive.”

(1214 Words)

The swirling portal of light continued to pulse and glow at them, almost welcoming but also showing a clear sign of the holy light beyond its threshold. It made Temperance a bit on edge as she anxiously twist and flicked her tarot cards in between her hands. She tossed the same card around a bit as she watched Medeia get ready. At first, Temperance knew the danger to charge head-first into a realm of heaven, but Medeia clearly had thought this through and she trusted her for her chance to exact revenge. The angels that she and her Umbra Sisters were a whole other breed compared to the types that Medeia had experienced and that made Temperance curious. What was the relation between the two? Were they all set on upholding their order violently or did some have differences of interests? They must have if Medeia used to be one of them. While going into heaven made her a little nervous, to pass up on the chance to learn more in the event the Umbra Witches encountered them would be valuable. Especially now, since Medeia was among their coven.  Still no matter how you sliced it-- they were witches and would be targeted the moment they set foot on heaven's plushy clouds. They had to be mindful of the force they were about to face. Still, she had a feeling about what they would find inside this world. Her six sense was telling her more caution than usual was needed to make it back in one piece.

It made her on edge, but her look was matched by also resolve. No way in hell was she going to say no. She had as much against the angels as Medeia did. That and she LOVED to stick it to the fluffy winged pansies every chance she got. She was nervous, but also grinned as her fingers flicked the card around.

"Please... Do I look like a girl who doesn't love to crash a party?" Temperance replied to Medeia as she clenched the card, revealing the Devil card in her hand, one of her newer cards and one that would be helpful in 'heaven'. "Shame there is no treasure to come from it. Still, I know Agil makes good weapons and goods from all those halos those flockers drop."

As she talked, Hex let out a soft mew as she hid behind Temperance's back. Out of all of them, she was a bit more reserved going into heaven. "I'd rather take a bath with Free than go here..." the cat said, clearly a bit nervous.

Temperance looked over her shoulder to see the sour-puss' face. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that. Medeia needs us. Besides, this is what we Umbra Witches do." Temperance said to her companion but still saw the cat pouting. "Don't tell me your becoming a fraddy--"

"DON'T-- say it," Hex meowed loudly, flicking her tail in irritation. "I didn't say I wouldn't go. I just think it's a big deal and shouldn't be done so hastily."

All she could do was pat the cat on the cheek to calm her. Luckily, Temperance knew a few tricks how to get out of places like Paradisio, as her umbran sisters called heaven. The rules should still be the same in there as well.

Temperance gave an assured smile to Medeia. She was the last person she was going to let down. Besides, there was more to this situation in terms of timing. She couldn't help but wonder why the events of Heaven changed like this. They would both find answers soon. "Let's raise some hell in heaven, Angel," she teased to Medeia, giving a playful wink her way.

Hex tucked on her favorite hat so it wouldn't fall off her ears. Oh boy... here we go.... mreow..." she meowed and got ready to jump through the portal.

WC: 649

Listening to the exchange between Temperance and Hex, Medeia would tilt her head lightly in thought. Yes, the cat made a point. The move they were about to make could be considered hasty in the eyes of Hex but to a being as old as Medeia herself? No. Her desire to return home had been so long in the making that she had been far more than patient. The raven haired woman should have done this the moment that she had been freed from her prison. What had stopped her up until now? Distractions. The guild, her relationships, coming to terms with her own true nature. She had become disillusioned by this new sense of humanity that had seeped into her being and her desire for revenge had been somewhat diluted. Today though, she felt nothing but her desire for vengeance and she knew that once that had been satiated, then she could focus on the rest. Her mind was filled with images of that damned castle turning to dust and by the time she and her allies were finished, that would be all that would remain. After today, only she and Armina would remain of what was once an entire sect. There was no other way for them in peace and frankly, there was no other way that either angel would accept.

She could have simply said nothing and leapt through the portal without another word but instead the angel found her herself speaking again, “Think about this way, Hex. Once this is all over, you and Temperance are going to have one hell of a story to tell the coven as well as anyone else you meet. You will have played a large part in the destruction of an angelic sect and that is something that no one will ever be able to take from you. Another story to add to both of your legends and to those of the Umbra Witches.”

“Let us waste no more time talking, Mistress,” Armina cut in, her body twitching with anticipation, “My pulse is racing at the thought of bathing in the blood of our kin. Please do not make me wait any more.”

The elder witch briefly turned her gaze to her maid, her grim expression fading and replaced by her usual flirtatious one for a moment or two, “Patience has never been your forte, my dearest Armina.”

Her eyes then fell upon Temperance, responding to her playfulness in the angel’s usual manner, “When this is all said and done, we are going to have one hell of a celebration afterwards.”

A smile still upon her face, Medeia would then turn towards the portal and jump through, her companions only a step or two behind her. Yet, for the angel at least, it was not a perfect trip, as her vision quickly became distorted as the transportation magic took effect. All she could see were stars and memories that had long been forgotten. Those of her early life, spent among the gardens of the heavens, arguing with her rivals and rolling around with her allies. She had always remembered certain moments but now they were all returning. She could remember every sensation, every thought, every emotion and it was if a key had been unlocked in the back of her mind, restoring her to her former self. It felt confusing and yet glorious at the same time.

When it finally came to a stop, the group found themselves standing on the path that had been seen through the portal. Yet, the condition of it was nothing like the images shown. Rather than colourful and beautiful, it was cracked and decayed. Its once rainbow coloured hew had been replaced by a black and purple tinge. It was oozing with corruption and the angel was not even sure if it was safe to walk on. Had that stemmed from the castle or was it from the sudden appearance of herself? It was difficult to tell although Medeia did briefly ponder.

“Mistress? Are you alright?” Armina suddenly asked, her eyes wide as she looked at her mistress.

“I feel invigorated,” the witch answered confidently, “We are finally home among the clouds. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“Your form,” Armina replied giddily, “Your angelic form has returned!”

Raising an eyebrow, Medeia would glance down at her hands, to find them surrounded with a purple coloured glow. Her clothing had been replaced by an eloquent, rather old fashioned dress while her ears and hair had turned the same colour, the former becoming pointed. “How fascinating. As I went through the portal, I felt the long lost memories of my past return to me and it would seem as that applies to my body as well. My dear, this is the form that I take when I tap into my angelic powers usually on earth but it is rather strange that they would activate without my permission here. Must be the angelic influence. Fitting indeed.” Flapping her similarly coloured wings, the witch briefly chuckled.

Whether it be the atmosphere or something else, there was the smile of old on her face once again as she turned to face her companions. “It will not be long before our presence is detected and I am not even sure if this path is even sturdy enough to carry us. You see the purple tainting? This is the visual representation of the corruption that now infects this castle and everyone inside. They have become overwhelmed by fear, anger and desire, unable to fight it. Rather ironic that beings who claim to be so righteous end up falling into the same sinful exploits that they so gleefully damn, I think. Shall we add to their misery?”

With that, she would turn and start to sprint along the path, taking care not to tread too heavily upon it. Of course, flight was always a possibility if the bridge did fail but the witch had to admit that she took from satisfaction from doing it the old fashioned way. Every step was one closer to her final goal.

(1018 Words)
(2232 PWC)

"And you people judge me for licking myself as a gross way of bathing?" Hex replied sarcastically to Armina's visual description of 'bathing in blood'.

A snort escaped Temperance as it did in fact ease her anxiety. But Medeia was right. This was an adventure and a chance for glory. Besides, these angels were anything but holy in behavior. It was time for some "Temperance" in the end. "Alright. Time to pluck some feathers," she said to Medeia's talk of a celebration.

Following Medeia's jump into the portal, she felt Hex's claws pinch through her clothing a bit in nervousness. Still with one last pat to the cat's head, she firmed up resolve and tensed up-- right before she ran for the portal. With an acrobatic jump, she dove into it. The swirl of light, dark, stars, and aether made her head spin as she flew forward, increasing in speed and time blurring a bit. With the flash to show the end of the portal, she quickly flipped in the air, anticipating her exit.

She exited the portal with a flip and roll, causing Hex to hop off in anticipation. Temperance landed in a knelt to the ground as she soon saw the new world around her. She landed on one of the 'broken' shards of the bridge that Medeia also saw. The area was not like 'heaven' Temperance had read or seen, but looked a bit more 'modernized' if she had to put it into words.

Hex now flew in the air, having conjured her Aera magic wings to fly as she got a view of this 'heaven', being a stretch at the signs of corruption around them.

However, Temperance rose up t o see Medeia's major transformation into that of her 'former form' as an angel. She was beautiful. Violet was always her color but it embodied her this time with her features amplified. She amazing before but now with her enhanced appearance and her wings, she was gorgeous. A chuckle escaped Temperance as she looked her over. "Wow, you look good for an angel," Temperance said with a hint of a tease in her tone.

Medeia's words were with good concern. The 'corruption' of the once holy atmosphere was troubling. Warranted perhaps, but unusual. Something about this made Temperance's intuition go wrong. "Medeia, how long has this corruption been here festering? I mean I find it hard to believe they wouldn't even notice this and try to staunch the corrosion long before now?" she asked, now starting to wonder HOW this all happened. "Something about this doesn't sit right with me, beyond the obvious of course,"

With her renewed resolve, a simple mental command caused bluish flames to suddenly appear over Temperance's face. The flash soon faded to reveal the black Persona mask she had-- a part of her magic. A symbol of her rebellious spirit. "Time to have some fun," the witch said with confidence.

Not concerned with the disarray of the path, Hex didn't hesitate to sweep behind Temperance and picked her up with her paws. With her black Aera wings, Hex easily flew herself and Temperance to follow Medeia down the path to the corrupted castle.

WC: 533

“It was such a quiet thing at first,” Armina replied, figuring that she was probably the best one to answer Temperance’s question. “It started with the King, millenia ago, when he cast my Mistress out of the heavens. According to him, he had done so because of the fact that she was trying to lead us astray. Mistress was always more bold than the rest of us. Always arguing, always questioning and never afraid to get into trouble. She watched the mortals below and was intrigued by how they lived. How they interacted with each other and lived their lives without any fear of us, knowing that we were always watching. They lived differently from us but were not unhappy and that was what intrigued Mistress so much. So, she began to experiment with me and Anete, another close friend of ours. The three of us began to indulge in each other and I cannot speak for the Mistress but I had never felt so alive. Anyway, when the King discovered our experimentation, he summoned the three of us to him and gave us an entire speech damning us for acting in an unangellic way. Mistress stood up to him and told him precisely what he could with his speech. He then accused her of rebelling against the rule of God and cast her out of the heavens, leaving her to rot in a prison in the deserts of the place you call Desierto.”

“Even then he was fuelled by fear and paranoia,” Medeia added, having to jump over a gap as the bridge continued to fall away. With a shake of her head, she would then jump and start to fly instead, Armina quickly following suit. “My father spoke that day in a way that I had never seen him do so before. He was absolutely livid with us, for simply exploring each other and I do not regret a word that I said even after having to suffer for millennia in that box. There was something strange about him that day although that was nothing compared to how he was when Armina and I last met him. He was well and truly gone by then.”

“Once Mistress had been cast out, things slowly but surely started to change,” Armina continued, “Not just with the King but with the other members of the sect too. They began to become more aggressive, prideful and consumed with lust. We had always been taught about living a holy life and following God’s laws but what I saw as time went by was anything but that. The King became more and more paranoid, ruling us with an iron fist and becoming more and more short tempered. The unity that had once bound us together splintered and we started to fight amongst ourselves. It was horrible and no one seemed to realise what was happening besides me. Yet when I brought the matter up with the King, he took away my rank and status, before sending me to his guard keeper, a vile member of her sect who had become a lust filled deviant. I do not think that I need to say any more about that.”

“No, you have said enough,” Medeia replied gently, “Let those feelings spur you onwards, my maid. Imagine the ecstasy that you will feel when you plant your axe into the swines head.”

“I will. Thank you, Mistress,” Armina quietly responded.

“I do not know what the true source of this corruption is and it is of no curse that I am aware of,” the purple eyed witch then said, gliding through the air. “I most certainly did not cause this. All I did was bring a little life to this cold and empty land and what I received in response was damnation. What I believe though is that the reason why my kind did not try to quell the taint was because it was already too late. They had become enamoured, obsessed with the corruption and the emotions that it caused them to feel. By doing so, they have become slaves to them. There is no reasoning with them now and the only way of handling them is to put them down.”

As the group flew onwards, the castle would slowly come into range, a disgusting creation dripping with purple liquid. Whatever or whoever had caused this had most certainly been thorough and yet, Medeia could not find it in her heart to feel any sympathy towards them. It had been too long, far too long. They had betrayed her and abused Armina in ways that were simply unforgivable. There was no place for sympathy here. Not in this realm.

“What could have caused all of this and why?” She mused aloud, an open question for anyone to answer.

(803 Words)
(3035 PWC)

The story was tragic. Curious, interesting but tragic to know that Medeia and her friend were cast out of heaven for just showing human curiosity or something close. It kind of killed the mood of Temperance's excitement to help take down this realm of heaven. This was deeply personal for Medeia, and she had to be supportive. Though they came with the desire of vengeance, vengeance was never born by just anger. It was from sorrow too. She kept her sarcasm down, as did Hex as they flew and listened.

Of course, the details of the gore that they would impart did in fact make the awkwardness of it change direction. Temperance shook her head as she finished hearing their story. "I'm... really sorry, to you both. I promise we won't let you down here," Temperance said to them both.

"Aye," Hex chirped in as she flew with Temperance, her claws keeping Temperance from falling by digging into her robes.

Medeia was right, and doubtful that any action from her would have caused corruption just based on 'experimentation' over emotions. Temperance wasn't sure to what degree they were referring to, but she could only assume it wasn't terrible. Still, nothing deserved what they been through. And corruption. It just didn't make sense to her, but even then it was too late. She did agree nothing short of death could put them out of their misery.

Was this corruption just some accident that gone too far. Or did something infect the angels on purpose to go so far? While she was on the side of darkness, even those of HER kind wouldn't go this far.

For now, though, she focused as she flew with Hex towards their next destination. One way or another, they would find some answers in this castle of false paradise.

WC: 304

Temperance’s words were appreciated by both angels although neither of them replied verbally. Trust between the four of them was going to be paramount for what was to come and that was why Medeia had allowed her maid to be quite so open about their past. Armina had always been a bit of a blabbermouth to say the least but for once at least, her mistress was rather thankful for that. There was no room for half truths now and Temperance and Hex had deserved to know just what their foes were capable of. She had faith in them, having seen just how quickly they had grown in strength while she had known them and of course, she had already seen them do battle with the sages. The difference here? Simple. The task today was not to just simply escape from their opponents but remove them completely. Annihilation. A task that not all beings were capable of. To be able to mercilessly kill without any sympathy of second thoughts. It took a certain mindset to be able to accomplish. Not that she doubted her friends, knowing their own hatred for those who dwelled in the heavens.

“Erm, Mistress? I think that we have company.” Armina uttered, pointing a finger towards the castle.

“Well, I guess a stealthy option is out of the window.” Medeia replied, her keen slayer senses gazing in the direction that her maid was pointing at.

There were figures approaching, winged and wielding bows of light. Just how many of them there were was difficult to tell from distance but there was no doubt as to just who they were.

“The fodder of our sect,” she explained, “Foot soldiers who were too weak to actually gain a rank or any kind of power. The bottom of the barrel, so to speak. They spend their lives simply obeying the whims of those about them and have little in the way of magical power. I suppose that they serve a purpose though and will at least let us get into the swing of things before we get fully into it. A warm up. The bows that they carry are not all that strong and will break with one clean stroke. Their bodies probably will too, come to think of it.”

“They are not exactly charmers either,” Armina added, “They have about as much charisma as a paint brush.”

“Talking to them is like watching paint dry too,” The witch responded, completely deadpan in tone, joining in with her maid's description.

Tapping into her magic, the purple haired woman would create a bow of her own, matching the colour of her locks, before turning to her friends. “Have fun.”

With that, she turned back to the oncoming force and released her first arrow, which flew true and struck one of the angelic archers directly, causing him to tumble through the clouds below. His destination? Hell.

(486 Words)
(3521 PWC)

The smooth and sullen flight was soon interrupted by the maid's warning as Temperance and Hex turned to see what was ahead of them. Soon they could see multiples of winged, light beings with armed bows poised for them.

Hex frowned and gave a catty meow. "We're losing our touch as cat-burglars, aren't we?" she replied sarcastically.

Temperance would of bopped the cat on the head if she wasn't carrying her. She gritted her teeth and took out a few of her cards, produced as if from thin air. She heard as Medeia explained to the soldiers as lower-ranked. "The third sphere rookies hm?" she asked, a bit relieved to hear that. Hearing her allies words, Temperance didn't hesitate to strike. "Well if the cat is out of the bag, we might as well get the party started!"

As Medeia started her assault, Temperance armed herself as Hex charged forward with her wings. Arrows came for the flying feline, but Hex knew just how to move. The winged cat easily bobbed and weaved with her black aero magic wings. As she flew, Temperance readied her cards and they started to glow a deep, fiery red.

"Now burn--- SUIT OF WANDS!!" she cried and flew out a total of 14 cards. The air soon streaked by 14 red beams that flew, each one containing a blazing card towards the multiples of the angels. While there were too many for a single assault, Temperance's use of cards allowed so many angles to attack, including facing multiple enemies. The moment the cards reached the range of the first row of angels--- KABOOOM! Fiery eruptions burst and shot over all over the place, striking down several angels in the first wave of the assault.

That first assault did indeed get the angel's attention as they drew arrows to try and pincer Temperance and shoot her down. However, Temperance had another card ready, this time now more dangerous to take out a wide range of angels. Holding a single card, with a raven atop a skull, it glowed with dark magic--- The Death Card.

"Come, WINGS OF DEATH!!" she cried and raised the card. Soon shadows spun around her, essentially stripping her naked briefly as shadows collected even in the bright heaven-- and transformed into a massive raven of darkness from her body. With a caw of fury, the winged incarnation of death and darkness flew forward.

Angels screamed as the dark spell swept over them, engulfing them in the shadows of the Death arcana. Once the spell ended, the shadows swept back around Temperance, causing her clothing t o reappear. Big invocations often came at a 'cost' or what was caused Umbra Climax among the Umbra Witches, as part of a ritual to invoke the larger eidolons of the arcana, or in some way-- the demons the witches' summoned.

A good number of the angels were now down, but more importantly, a clearer opening would be in t he way for them to pass through if they needed to get out of there and rush for the castle.

"Oooh this is getting fun," Temperance said with amusement.

"Horray for you," Hex growled as she continued to hang on to Temperance as she flew. "You wouldn't be this cheerful if I wasn't carrying you from falling a billion miles to your death below!"

Temperance rolled her eyes at her snarky feline familiar and flew to catch up to Medeia and her friend.

WC: 578

“Someone needs a good petting!” Armina replied to Hex’s grumpy statement, fully into the fight by now. Her large battle axe carving through angels like a hot knife through butter. It felt so good to be able to to finally release some of that pent up anger that had been building up for so long. Honestly, she enjoyed the blood and gore more than Medeia herself but this was on a different level. These were not just mortal men but the treacherous scum who had turned their backs on her mistress, a cardinal sin in her eyes. She played the role of a maid for amusement purposes in Errings Rising but her true profession was that of a guards woman. Once one who followed the rules of the King but now a follower of Medeia and no one else. The purple haired woman would follow the fallen angel into Hell itself if necessary and would have done, had Medeia not prevented her the last time that she had travelled there.

Medeia was far more graceful with her movements than her maid, performing a far more acrobatic style of combat that was quite easy on the eye. The power of her arrows were far greater than those of their foes and one shot from her was enough to easily tear through their worthless bodies. It was like a queen facing a pawn in chess terms and as her arrows easily penetrated the hapless victims, she could not help but smile too. Medeia’s anger had been bubbling for far longer than Armina’s and it felt as though she had always felt it by now. Had she been mortal, the memories would have long faded by now, such was the limits of the human mind but for her? She could remember every moment from every day anyway but it was a far easier task now that she was back in the heavenly realm. The old days were still blooming in her mind, bringing them back into full focus.

The explosions from behind her were impossible to miss and as Medeia unleashed another arrow that caught its intended target between the eyes, the purple eyed woman would turn to find that Temperance had cleared out those that the angelic pair had missed. “I see that your powers have grown since our last little adventure,” she complimented softly, taking a moment to admire her friend's form, a receipt from earlier. She had always found Temperance attractive of course but there was something about her combat costume that made her even more so. Perhaps once this whole dirty business was done, they could take part in another type? A curious thought and one that only spurred Medeia on more. In truth, she had not thought too much about what happened afterwards. When your mind was so obsessed with revenge, plans beyond it seemed to just fade into insignificance. It could consume even the strongest of minds.

“So that is how things are between you, hmm?” Armina joked, her axe shimmering with magical energy as she tore apart the last few angels that were surrounding her. The fodder were little more than a hindrance, a test from Medeia’s brother no doubt to measure their strength.

“Armina, hush or I will punish you later,” Medeia answered although the smile on her face gave away the fact that she was not all that annoyed, while her maid just chuckled in response.

Noticing the last few angels of the group clambering together in order to try and perform one last futile attack, Medeia would simply deactivate her bow and with an amused expression on her face, uttered a curse. A black circle would appear below the winged peons and with a sudden blast of black energy, they would be turned into a group of fat, hideous toads. For a few moments, they would just croak and ribbit, before the inevitable happened and they all fell out of the sky, to face a rather unpleasant fate when they finally hit the ground. “They are going to make quite a mess, I imagine,” she uttered in amusement.

“Humans always say that it is raining frogs and dogs,” The maid chipped in.

“I think you will find the expression is cats and dogs,” The witch replied, “No offence, Hex.”

“Close enough,” the peppy maid quipped, “I suppose that now we have beaten this little bunch, your brother is going to get all stroppy now.”

“Good, let him stew for a while,” came the response, “It will only make him suffer more.”

As the group continued on their journey, Medeia pondered to herself about just what they may find inside. If the corruption had taken over as greatly as Armina had said, just how badly affected had her kin become? Would they perhaps be similar as to the Sages that Temperance was sworn to combat? Having lost all sense of grace and beauty and instead reverting to almost monster like forms. It was possible, she mused and more than that, just how had that affected their powers? There were still unknowns and although Medeia was hardly afraid, there was much still to discover.

However, as expected, just reaching the castle was not going to be as simple as simply knocking on the door and asking to be let in. No, not at all. As not only were a second wave of fodder heading towards the group but the second that they had passed the castle gates, a large magical shield would surround the entire building behind them. More obstacles to be handled.

“Surely he knows that he is just sending these guys to their death,” Armina said, slightly bemused.

“He no longer cares about that,” Medeia answered, “He most likely has become as paranoid as my father and all that will concern him is his own security. These peons mean nothing to him now and he will throw every resource he is at us until there is no one left to send. These angels that come at us now know that they will die either way, by us or by that shield if they try and retreat. They are just his mindless slaves now.”

She briefly paused and then added, “They are in the way though and we all know what that means. Hope everyone is keeping score.”

With that, battle was upon them once again although there was something a little more distinctive about this wave. The corruption was much easier to see, the wings and hair of the angels streaked with purple.

(1091 Words)
(4612 PWC)

(Will be continuing this solo since my RP partner decided to just stop posting.)

Her bow disappearing, Medeia would then pull the sickle from its resting place on her back, charging the stones on it in order to amplify its strength. The battle was becoming far more close ranged at this point and a different weapon was required. Swinging it as casually as she could, the immense magical power that she produced easily cut through the weak defences of the useless angel who had tried to do battle with her, severing his body and cutting it clean in two. With a look of utter shock in his eyes, the holy being would fall from the sky, joining the growing number of victims. It was all too easy so far and as Medeia continued to slaughter those closest to her, she could not help but think ahead. Just what had her brother conjured up in order to defend himself? If he was as paranoid as father had been then he would spare no resources in coming up with as many bodies as possible to throw at her and her maid. Such was the attitude of Argyle, a creature of selfishness.

Armina was still thoroughly enjoying herself too, wielding her battle axe as though it was nothing and carving through all who stood in her way. Savage and brutal, she spared no one and the purple haired woman seemed to be taking every moment of pleasure that she could from the experience. Her hatred spurred her onwards and as more and more angels were destroyed, the ferocity of her attacks grew even more. She was born and bred for battle, resulting in a rather sickening grin to cross her face as she went about her work. It was a pleasure to see and as her eyes briefly locked with her mistresses, they both shared the same sense of elation. The land below the clouds would be littered with the bodies of those who had fallen to them, those lucky enough not to be dragged to Hell anyway. The corruption had become so strong that Medeia doubted that they would ever return to the heavens. No, these mindless beings had fallen so far and would only end up in the fires of eternal damnation. Good riddance in the eyes of the duo.

As the mass culling continued, the two would begin to close the distance from one another as the number of enemies fell and by the time that the latest wave was defeated, the two were pretty much side by side. Again, it had not been a challenge in the least and to the utter bafflement of the two of them, the last few angels had actually tried to fly back towards the castle, slamming straight into the large energy shield that had been constructed to defend it. The result was rather graphic, with the cowards being turned to ash in a moment. Clearly, Argyle had no place for such pathetic behaviour in his sect. Well, his sect for now.

“How sad,” Armina piped up, “Driven to such despair that they would rather sacrifice their own lives than defend their king.”

“Who would want to defend such a fool?” Medeia replied coldly, “Even in their disgusting state, they were able to see that he deserves death in the end. Perhaps in our own way, we are actually saving them by killing him.”

“A lifetime in hell does not sound like a respite to me,” the maid replied.

“It is better than this,” the fallen angel answered gently, “At least there, they will be free of his influence.”

“It sounds as if you almost feel sorry for them, Mistress,” came the purple haired woman’s answer.

“I feel no sympathy towards them, for they did not have the strength to fight off Argyle’s influence for so long. It is simply true that their suffering from the corruption is over and I am certain that the fires of hell will not be as painful as it was.”

Leading her maid onwards once more, the two of them would finally reach the enormous castle, coming up against the large barrier. It was golden yellow in colour and surrounded the entire colossal building. As the pair looked up at the castle itself, memories once more flooded their minds and they were both taken back to when they were young. Days and nights spent in bliss among their kin, Medeia or Priya as she had been known then, princess of the king and Armina, her loyal guards woman and the first to her defence. They had shared so many wondrous hours in each other’s company, training, learning and as they had grown older, taking part in more adult pastimes. They had each been the other’s first crush but such things were taboo in the eyes of her father and that was where things had unravelled, the beginning of the end.

“How are we going to get through, Mistress?” Armina asked, snapping out of her own memories and turning to Medeia.

Raising her sickle, Medeia focused all of her magical energy and then swung for the barrier, resulting in a blinding flash of light. For a few moments, there was nothing but that blazing light and yet when it finally faded, the barrier was no more. The barrier may have been able to repel the weaklings but the witch was just in another class. She was surrounded by power, enveloped in its embrace and she had reached a level that most would never reach. One little barrier was not going to stop her from her vengeance. Medeia was beyond such things and as she turned to face her maid again, a small smile crossed her features.

“Like that,” she answered, “There is nothing that will prevent us from having our vengeance. No barrier, no monster and no one who has the skill or the strength to deny us. Let us destroy this damned castle and rip Argyle's head from his body. Then, we will finally be able to live in peace.”

“We should put his head on a spike when it is all said and done,” the maid quipped in reply, “Maybe take the body home and give it to Kyra?”

“Hmm, there is a thought,” the witch replied, before the duo made their way into the castle grounds, ready for what was next.

(1052 Words)
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A sight that would forever be remembered by both Medeia and Armina, for as they entered the grounds of what was once their home, the once glorious gardens were now anything but. The once green and pleasant land had now become decayed and decrepit. Not a single plant survived and the once rosy atmosphere was now one that simply reeked of disease. The corruption was in full effect, with the walls and what remained of the furniture now covered the pulsating purple and black tinge that the angels that the two had previously fought had been covered with. Disgusting and foul, the stench alone was enough to turn even the strongest of stomachs. This was what had become of their sect and no verbal description could have honestly explained it better. Rotten to the core. Dying. Memories of the two rolling around in the gardens were swiftly pushed aside at the sight of it. There would be no more of that now.

Approaching one of the decaying benches, Medeia would briefly crouch down beside it and examine the horrible and foul smelling corruption that covered it. It was dripping with the horrible purple ooze and the witch furrowed her brows with interest. Now that she was in close proximity towards it, there was something familiar that had captured her curiosity. Her father had continuously rambled about the purity of the sect being destroyed by her and up until now, Medeia had passed them off as the ravings of a paranoid old man but what if there was truth to it? Could she have possibly been the reason behind it all? The thought seemed ridiculous at first but had she inadvertently been the cause? Had her breaking from the angelic code somehow tainted the sect as a whole? The Pandora’s Box, as it were?

Wiping a finger across the vein, Medeia would run the liquid across her fingers, reaching out to it with her magical senses in order to try and understand its composition. Curses had always been a hobby of hers, even before she had acquired the ability to devour them and as the liquid stained her fingers, the solution formed in her mind. This was the result of a curse for certain, one that she had cast upon her family as she had been removed by her fathers guards. With her memories now complete, those moments now filtered into her mind, as clear as day. She had cursed her sect in her desperation to escape her captivity, hurled the most vilest of insults as she was forced into that damn box of a prison and by doing so, had activated her magic, in a way that she had never considered. It all made sense now and a smile crossed her features.

“By casting me out, he doomed them all,” she uttered out loud, a chuckle escaping her lips.

“Mistress?” Armina replied, “You mean that this stuff is your magic?”

“The results of his paranoia and my anger,” Medeia answered, “Do you remember the moments where my punishment was delivered? What I said then became reality and this liquid is sin, in a visible form. I cursed them all, infected their minds with sensations and emotions that they had never felt before. I robbed their purity from them and replaced it with sin. I suppose my moniker of Fallen Angel is rather more fitting than I thought.”

“Now it makes sense,” the maid responded, “This has all been your revenge for them casting you out.”

“I promised them that one day they would choke on their pride and arrogance,” the witch answered, rubbing her hand across the vein of liquid again. “This is precisely that. They have been poisoned by my magic and their own carnal desires. It also explains why you were not affected, my dear Armina. You were always loyal to me and because of that, you were never corrupted. You can see this as well as I but the others? I doubt they can.”

“No one ever believed me and I suppose that's why,” Armina grimly responded, “They were all already out of their minds. Still, they deserve it for what they did to both you and me. Let us finish what we came here to do, Mistress.”

However, before the two could do just that, they were rather rudely interrupted by a large figure, emerging from the enormous castle doors. Dressed in armour of gold and white, he walked down the staircase and stopped at the bottom. He stood at about eight feet tall, wielding a sword and shield, light shining brightly from him. Yet, the light was tainted and both the maid and her mistress could clearly see the purple and black that was caked all over him. The curse had worked its magic upon him

“Well, here is a sight for sore eyes,” he bellowed, “Welcome home, Priya! You can be sure that your brother has been anxiously awaiting your arrival. It is just a shame that you will not be able to meet him. For you see, I have the strictest orders and those involve your death. As for dear Armina, she will be returned to the dungeons where she can return to her former duties. You will find that Jackyl has sorely missed your lovely body and cannot wait to explore it once again. Once you have been punished for aligning with the enemy of course. I…”

Whatever he was about to say would not be heard as he was unable to even register what had happened. Looking down, he would see a large gaping hole through both the shield and his body. Coughing up blood, he would lean forwards and then collapse to the ground.

“You will not speak of her in that way again,” Medeia coldly uttered, her hand still a flame after casting her attack. “Believe me, Preator, Armina will be meeting up with that disgusting pile of filth again and when she does, his throat will be ripped out. That is the fate of all those who still reside within this castle. Your army of fodder is currently littering the lands of Earthland and Hell, which is where the rest of you will soon be too."

Turning to Armina, the witch would then nod her head and without any need for further clarification, the maid swooped forward and decapitated the bleeding angel. “Good riddance,” the purple haired maid then said with a smile.

(1076 Words)
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The duo wasted little time and left the body to rot there, while they swiftly flew up the steps and into the main foyer of the castle. There was little difference between it and the outside in terms of looks and the building was clearly suffering from the same decay. The once holy place was dying, slowly and painfully. Medeia had to smile at that fact, now that she knew the truth of it all. Her curse had infected every single bring who had called this place home, well, all those who were her enemies anyway. They had all become nothing but husks of what they once were. How delightful. Not only was the building almost falling apart but the windows were also caked with the purple liquid. There was a time where the two angels might have sat at the balcony, staring out of them. How things had changed. Oh well, once today was done, no one would even know that the castle had ever been there in the first place. There would be no more assassination attempts on her life and her quest for vengeance would be all over, finally. What would come next? She was uncertain to be honest.

“I suppose it is time for us to split up, yes?” Armina asked, turning towards Medeia. “No doubt you will be heading towards the throne room while I have a date with Jackyl.”

“Quite right,” Medeia replied, “Make sure that you make him pay for every moment of horrible torture that he put you through. Are we clear on that?”

“Oh, you can be sure of that, Mistress,” the maid replied, her axe almost crying out for blood. “I will catch up before you finish Argyle off, I promise.”

Before the two parted, the witch would briefly take her maids hand and then pull her into a kiss. Softly and gently, they would wrap their arms around each other and share a few moments together in an intimate embrace. A promise to one another and a sign of the deepest bond that they shared. It was their relationship which had begun the whole affair and the one that had lasted the distance. Through all of the pain and suffering, they had never once shared a cross word between each other and were never more comfortable than when they were in each other's arms. Armina had adapted so well to life as an Errings Rising mage and the witch could not have been more grateful to her for that. Her maid and guards woman was the ultimate support, one that she desperately needed, more than either of them truly realised. They would forever be together, a fact that gave them both that extra sense of homeliness.

When they finally broke apart, they went their separate ways. Medeia up the main staircase, while Armina darted through a side chamber, where the dungeons lied.

Moving swiftly, Armina rocketed through the corridors as swiftly as possible, knowing all too well the way. The memories of her time spent among the doldrums of the castle had left a mark of the most horrible kind upon her and as the axe wielding maid charged forwards, they came painfully back to the forefront of her mind. How they had chained her down, tortured her, ravished her and made every moment a living hell. The embarrassment and pain that she had felt brought tears to her eyes even now. She had been forced to suffer through all of that, just for being loyal to her mistress and the memories only caused a fire to be lit underneath her that would not be extinguished until her task was done.

Barrelling through towards the dungeons, her progress would be stopped by a group of angelic guards. They were not much stronger than the fodder that they had already fought and knowing that all too well, there was no hesitation from her than to take the offensive. She carved through them like a hot knife through butter, her axe slashing in gigantic arcs, cleaving limbs left and right. It was an absolute bloodbath and the smile that crossed the purple haired woman’s face was filled with delight. It was difficult to tell just how many she killed but no matter how many angels died, another group came out to fight her. Well, the same thing occurred and as the massacre continued, the bodies continued to pile up. The powerful maid was a true tour de force and caked the entire corridor with blood. Jackyl would soon be the one on the edge of her axe and that thought kept her going. Well, that and the insatiable blood-lust that was almost overwhelming her.

Leaping up into the air, Armina would land in the middle of yet another group of angels, her axe a flurry of movement as she swung it round as though it was nothing. Oh, it was glorious and as she cleaved yet another one straight down the middle, a joyful giggle escaped her lips. After suffering so long, she was finally getting the chance for some payback and it felt wonderful. The screaming and shrieking from the angels filled her ears, a chorus of lovely music that she could almost dance to. This was living.

With an almighty swing, she caught another of the imbeciles, launching them straight through the glass window and leaving him almost in two. It did not matter how many they threw against her, the result would be the same. A fact that her opponents finally seemed to realise after a while, as they eventually turned and started to run from her. However, it made little difference and she chased them down with reckless abandon, slaughtering them without mercy. It was a pure delight and as she reached the entrance of the dungeons and flew down there, the levels of ecstasy that was flowing through her veins was reaching fever pitch. Nothing would get in her way.

Blocking her path at the bottom of the staircase was another guard but she flew into him with such force that he was hurled backwards about twenty feet. Upon him in moments, she would then bury the axe into his back, causing him to scream with pain as his life ended. Yet another one down. Yet, the screaming did not stop and as Armina turned to view the cells around her, she soon saw why,

Every cell was filled with the most badly beaten creatures that you could imagine. Shivering, trembling and beaten to a pulp, they had clearly all been through the same horrible treatment that Armina had herself received. Her anger boiled over and with a roar of rage, she tore down the dungeon and smashed through the door to the chief jailer's door with one enormous swing of her axe. The wood gave way and splintered into pieces, revealing the horrible bastard who had made her suffer so.

He was a glutton of an angel, overweight, sex obsessed and absolutely horrible. Leering at her from behind his desk, Jackyl would slowly stand up, grasping hold of a large mace that was hanging on the wall. “Well, look who it is. Come back for another roll around, have you Armina? There was no need for you to have to kill my men for that. All you had to do was ask. As it is, I suppose I am going to have to make you suffer for the pain you have caused.”

Angrily, the maid’s aura would suddenly darken, her powers reaching their peak. The time for revenge was at hand.

(1267 Words)
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Dashing forwards, Armina would leap over the desk and slam her axe down towards the obese glutton without a word. The hatred absolutely poured out of her at that point. The strike cut straight through the desk and would have done the same to him, had Jackyl not managed to just about lumber out of the way. His reflexes were obviously not the best and his counter attack was rather sloppy. Armina was able to get her axe back up in front of her and block his mace, before forcefully pushing him back. Her slaughtering of the guards had well and truly warmed her up and by now, she truly was at the peak of her strength, her attacks having that extra bit of force behind them. She had trained so hard for this and now, after all that time, it would all pay off for her. Coating her axe in magical power, the purple haired woman would then strike again, the additional strength enough to send the fat lump backwards, sending him straight into the wall. It had all been her so far but as she came in to finish him, he would finally get his act together, launching a massive wave of angelic energy that stopped Armina in her tracks, blinding her for a moment and stopping her attack.

“You underestimate me, Armina,” he sneered, clambering back to his feet and charging towards her, mace ready to strike. “Do you honestly think that I am as helpless and weak as those fools you have killed so far? How do you think I have been able to keep these prisoners in line for so long?”

Her vision clouded, Armina instead tried to calm herself and focus on her other senses to tell where he was coming from. She lacked Medeia’s slayer enhanced hearing and smell but he made so much noise that it did not truly matter. Her battle honed instincts helped her as well and he came in and swung for her head, Armina ducked underneath the blow and brought her axe up, catching him right in the jaw and causing blood to burst from it as the bone broke. The reaction was instant, with the hideous Jackyl screaming with pain and reeling backwards from the blow but what was more important than that was the fact that his spell vanished. Armina could see clear as day again and the sight before her caused her to wickedly smile. His jaw was well and truly broken, tongue lolling around now with nothing to support it. He did not fall though and for that at least, she gave him a few points.

“You bitch!” He clumsily spat, his voice distorted due to the damage. “How dare you break my jaw!

“You are not going to be kissing anyone for a while now, are you? You disgusting swine!” Armina replied. “Bring your face to my axe and I will finish you now.”

“As if you could,” he roared, releasing a powerful blast of holy energy from his hand that tore towards the maid at high speed.

Yet, Armina did not panic and swung her axe, just as the attack came towards her, cutting through it as though it was nothing. Yes, the effect on her axe was noticeable and she could feel the damage that had been caused but it was still functional, which was all she could have asked for. Flying forwards again, her next axe slash would block his desperate attack with his mace, before coming around and removing his weapon arm with one mighty cleave. His yells became even stronger now and with one final swing, she cut him straight across his enormous stomach, causing his innards to start staining the floor. He was not getting up from that and the Jackyl fell to the floor, covering the ground with his disgusting fluids.

It was all over. The maid had won.

Triumphantly, Armina would fly around to where his head was, doing her utmost to avoid the reeking mess and came to a stop above his head. Angels could after all recover from the most grievous wounds if not finished off and the maid knew precisely where her final strike was going to be aimed at. Holding her blade just inches above his exposed neck, she then uttered, “Any last words, Jackyl?”

“Damn you and damn your mistress!” he weakly stated, before the guard womens blade came down, severing his head from his body. Another decapitated angel and another enemy dispatched.

Yet, her job was not yet done and after taking a few precious moments to savour her victory, she would then be off, in search of Medeia. Of course, she trusted that her partner would be able to defeat Argyle alone but Armina felt as though she just had to be there. She had been there when this all started and needed to be there at the end. That was all there was to it. The corridors were now filled with the bodies of those that the pair had destroyed and due to that, it was easy for the maid to simply follow the path of chaos. She had to smile at the state of the bodies of those that her mistress had defeated though, they had been killed by blades of their own type, no doubt because of Medeia’s skill with mind magics. Armina could almost picture what had happened. Medeia had raised a hand and caused the minions to simply slaughter each other, leaving an honour guard of corpses for her to walk past. Such was her mistress's way of dealing with things. In truth, Armina and Medeia had such different styles of combat but in the end, it only made them a more efficient team. They covered each other's weaknesses, which could not have been more perfect.

Savouring her victory as she flew, the maid would press onwards towards the throne room, where her mistress would surely be, ready to destroy her own brother and bring the curtain down on this whole chapter.

(1010 Words)
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Yes, Medeia’s blitz through the castle had required far less physical effort on her part. Instead, she had enjoyed herself immensely by bemusing, bewitching and polymorphing her foes into various creatures. They had even less chance against her than those who had fought Armina and the witch did not take any damage at all from those she fought. The opponents though were a different matter entirely and what remained of them now were simply husks of what they had once been. Foot soldiers, captains, generals, the rank of her holy enemies made little difference and as she easily cleared the oath before her, she wondered if all of her training had even been necessary. These beings before her were so weak that anyone with the slightest amount of skill could have defeated them. Had she perhaps overestimated her foes or underestimated her own strength? In truth, it probably did not even matter either way and as the raven haired woman approached the enormous throne room, there was only one question in her mind.

Where were the rest of the royal family?

She had not come across one member of them during her devastation of the castle and Medeia could not help but be rather puzzled. Surely they would try and defend their home? Had they perhaps fallen so far due to her curse that they no longer cared for anything besides themselves? It was a curious thought and her intrigue piqued even further when she found that there was not even a guard defending the enormous doors of the throne room. It was incredibly suspicious and as the fallen angel pressed them open, her eyebrows rose at what she saw.

For covering the walls of the hall were precisely what she had been pondering about or at least what was left of them. The remains of her family, presented like art. Aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters. You name it, they were there and yet, their bodies had not decomposed and as Medeia turned her gaze towards the throne itself, she began to realise why. They were feeding the figure sitting there, their essences seeming to keep him going. The man that she had come to despise even more than her father and the one that she had come all this way to defeat. Her brother, Argyle.

“So this is how you treat your adoring family?” Medeia asked coldly, approaching the throne.

“Sister, how nice,” Argyle replied in a boisterous fashion, “It has been far too long since we last met. Tell me, are you and Armina the ones who have been slaughtering all of my men?”

“Why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to?” Came the response, “You have not changed at all.”

“Foolishness! I am nothing like the cowardly boy that you once knew. I have taken the mantle that was left behind after you slaughtered father. Now, as you can see, I have all of our family channelling their powers into me so do yourself a favour and simply accept your death. I can feel the life energy of every single being in this room and I will use them all to destroy you. Had I known that you would return so soon, I never would have sent the assassins, you know.”

“You have become just another victim of the curse that I cast upon father, all those years ago. Look at you, your body is falling apart, decayed and rotten to the core. The same state that every single body that you are absorbing is in. All you are doing is bringing forward the inevitable, brother. From the moment father cast me out, it was only a matter of time before you would all end up in hell. How does it feel to know that, Argyle?”

“Curse? Absurd. You were cast out because you had shamed our father due to your sordid nature. We were taught to live a life free of sin and to follow the word of God. Yet you and your precious Armina instead decided to desecrate our gardens with your sinful exploits. Removing you from our sect was what finally allowed us to become free of sin. The only curse that we have ever suffered from was having you among us for as long as we did.”

“Where does it say that you should feed on your own family members though?” Medeia interjected, “Surely that is treachery, the worst sin of all. How ironic that you cannot even see it. You always did talk rubbish, Argyle.”

“Who are you to tell me what is sinful or not? A fallen member of our order, damned beyond measure. Everything I have done was in order to help this sect prosper. God understands this.”
Argyle’s ramblings were becoming louder and angrier as time passed, bringing a smile to Medeia’s face.

“It matters not what you think, brother. The castle is empty, our family pride no longer exists and after I have killed you here, there will be nothing left at all. I am going to end this. You had your chance once father died to stop coming after me and yet, you resumed with father’s paranoid schemes. You will pay for every moment that I spent in that prison, every moment that Armina had to suffer at Jackyl’s hand and for not knowing when to leave things alone.”

“We shall see,” Argyle replied, standing up and starting to descend down the stairs, “You will make a fine trophy to show to those who seek to ruin what our family has spent so long trying to build.” His body began to shimmer as he walked, a set of golden armour, far more extravagant than Prator’s, now covering his body. In his right hand, he held a sword, his left a staff. “Come, sister. Let us bring an end to this struggle of ours, that began so long ago. Defeat me and you will have your revenge. Lose and you will spend eternity as another decoration on the walls of this hall.”

(1008 Words)
(10025 PWC)

There was little point in holding back now and such was the anger that was building up inside the witch, restraint was not the order of the day now. Her aura would darken immensely as her Takeover powers blossomed into life, restoring her powers that she had once had amongst the sect. Due to the effects of the heavens, her physical appearance did not change but in terms of magical power, that increased immensely. Enough that even Argyle slowed his approach although he did not stop completely. She sensed fear underneath his arrogance and pride which caused her to smile. So, after all this time, he was still a coward. He had never had a shred of bravery in his body, even back when they were children and it only made sense that it would start to emerge now.

Before he could reach her, Medeia suddenly moved, activating her magic in order to swiftly turn to sand. The action was swift and as he swung around, expecting an attack from behind, the witch would instead reappear in precisely the same spot and lash out with a flaming fist. The attack was brutal and swift, battering against Argyle’s armour and causing it to crack. Surprisingly, it did not break instantly but it was enough to make him realise just what he had got himself into and who he was up against. Lashing out with his sword, he would counter with a wild slash of his light imbued sword but Medeia was able to parry it with her sickle, knocking the attack away, before unleashing a mighty strike with it against him, causing another dent in his lovely golden armour and sending him crashing against the steps he had been walking down.

Taking advantage of his fallen state, Medeia would then cast a purple coloured net and launch it towards him, hoping to ensnare her foe and leave him at her mercy. However, he was swift enough to evade it, rolling down the rest of the steps and clambering back to his feet. On solid ground at last, the two would then briefly size each other up again, before engaging once more. His body was entirely covered by the curse that she had inflicted them all with years ago and even with the bodies of their family keeping it at bay, there was very little he could truly do. Her powers were made purely for killing her own kind and he was only buying himself a little more time. Recklessly, he charged forwards, both staff and sword blazing with golden light as he performed a powerful swing with the pair of weapons. Medeia nimbly dodged and then took to the sky, before turning towards him and releasing a powerful roar of sand, forcing him to create a shield of light to defend him. It just about managed it but the cracks were evident and as the witch hurled the sickle like a boomerang, it shattered completely, resulting in him getting struck head on by the sickle, cutting him across the face.

He was simply no match for her, as none of her opponents had been that day. When her sickle came back to her hand, he would attempt to attack her with a bolt of light but she simply summoned a shield of flame to take the blow, the power of the attack not even being strong enough to destroy it. It was so disappointing although in the end, it mattered not, she supposed. Clicking her fingers, she would call for a purple coloured tentacle to burst from underneath him, wrapping Argyle in its slimy grasp and forcing him to remain still.

“Release me from this disgusting abomination!” He yelled, struggling to escape the grasp of Medeia’s spell.

“After all this time desiring your head, you have almost spoiled the moment by being so pitifully weak,” Medeia replied, coming to land beside her spell. “Your body is rotten, as is your soul although the fire of battle was never in your heart, was it brother?” Turning to the tentacle, she would then add, “Make him drop his weapons, my dear.”

With a flick of its tip to acknowledge her, the tentacle would start to crush Argyle, forcing his weapons to tumble to the ground, while he could do little more than writhe in pain. His screams were pleasant though and enough to cause Medeia to smile. Oh, how long she had been dreaming about this. The key word of her previous mutterings had been almost, for his painful screaming did make up for the poor fight. The tentacle crushed harder and harder, causing the scratch on his face to burst forth with blood.

“Mistress!” A familiar voice called out and in what seemed like an instant, Armina was beside her, beaming with delight. “I see that you have managed to capture the bastard.” The maids eyes were dancing with lust and joy after her own fight, causing Medeia to chuckle.

“Indeed. I trust that you were successful too?” She replied.

“Oh yes, his guts are currently all over the dungeon floor. It was the most fun I have had in a long time. So, what are we going to do with Argyle?” Armina answered, her eyes turning to their suffering captive.

Giving her maid a sweet but devious smile, Medeia would then turn to the tentacle again, “Janice. Kill him.”

The reaction was instant, with the tentacle now putting its full crushing power behind its assault. Argyle would shout and holler for a few moments, before the pressure became too much and he was unable to. His face turned blue as his oxygen was cut off and after about a minute or so, his body gave out, his eyes almost bulging out. With that, Janice would release him, letting his corpse crash to the ground.

“Well, that was certainly a fun watch,” the maid giggled, “So, what happens now?”

Her smile widening slightly, Medeia would then proceed to climb the steps and sit on the throne. “How about we celebrate with a little quality time, before we blow this place to pieces? Come here, Armina.”

“Yes, my Queen happily,” Armina replied, almost floating up the steps and sitting on Medeia’s lap.

The only sounds that could be heard after that were those of love. The great quest for revenge had finally come to and end with both Medeia and Armina living happily ever after.

“Mistress?”

“What?

“I forgot to bring the rope…

“...”

(1082 Words)
(11107 Final Personal Count(