BwA: Chapter 1 - Old to Young

 Even though Xandria the Merciless made war on the Heavens and their human servants known as the Holy Order, she served no demon. Demons were, of course, entwined in the battle. - From the journal of Severah ajal Binoch

Xandria's body had withered as time moved on and so did her mind. In the darkness of her cell, no more than a hole carved into stone with a door, she had had no concept of time. She gibbered and mumbled, twitched and wept or screamed. Forty years had passed and she had gone from the Scourge of the Holy Order, a prize captive, to being forgotten.

She paid no mind to the sound of the lock to her cell door unlocking or when it opened. Xandria did not move from her place on the cool stones. Her body was trembling with fever, her limbs weak. She looked like a skeleton with skin stretched over it. Xandria's black hair had gone completely white, but was yellowed with filth. Her blue eyes were cloudy with cataracts and she was nearly blind and deaf. A figure filled the entrance to her cell. He was covered completely in a brown cloak and hood that hid his face. He walked to the old woman on the floor and picked her up. She did not fight nor cling to him.

As he carried her from the prison, no one seemed to notice him or her. It was as if everyone was blind to their movements. Outside the prison, he mounted his horse, black but also covered in brown cloth, with the old woman in his arms. He rode at a gallop from the prison in Clayaire, the capital of Kostya, nearly due north. The horse seemed not to tire and neither did the man who carried her.

The three finally halted on a hill. In the moonlight, a town could be visible below. Lights in the windows, and a much larger fire glowed behind it. The man turned his horse, at the bottom of the hill and at the edge of the forest was a small pond. He dismounted with the woman in his arms and waded into the pond with her. He slowly lowered her into the water, and she fought him weakly at first. As the man held her under, the water seemed to boil. Suddenly a fist shot up from the water and cocked the man in the face. He let go and retreated to the edge of the pond. His robes instantly becoming dry.

Xandria stood up, soaked, and pushed her hair from her face. She was no longer old and thin. Her hair was as black as ever, her face and body were as shapely and muscular as she ever was at her prime. She examined herself, feeling her body and staring mostly at her hands. Her right hand had been ruined from Caleran's wing and had healed incorrectly, now no trace of the wound was visible. With disgust Xandria waded, wearing only the rags of her imprisonment, from the water.

"Why did you do this?" She asked heatedly. "I was so close to death."

"I need you to do a task for me," spoke the man in an echoing voice.

"You must have me mistaken for someone who gives a damn about Heaven's wishes, if you're a wise one you'll let me die." she stated.

"I will give you the identity of your betrayer," spoke the angel and Xandria halted, he had her attention.

"He still lives?" The angel nodded.

"Do this task for me and I will take you to the person who poisoned your well and gave the location of your hideout to the Holy Order." Xandria tried to make it look like she was thinking about it. Dangling revenge, even if it was an old man in front of her was all it took.

"What is this "task?"

"There is a village down there," he pointed through the hill, "It is under siege by the risen dead. Find out why and stop it."

"What is your name?"

"Zazael, I am Ralael's youngest brother, and Sherin would have been my niece." he seemed to have added that last part, not sure if he was trying to win favor with Xandria.

"I killed your other brother, Caleran." Xandria wanted to see Zazael's response.

"Caleran, was a fool filled with vengeance and a coward. He was blind with the Light that we serve." Zazael approached Xandria who backed up defensively. "Take my hand." Xandria hesitated and finally placed her hand in the heavily armored one of Zazael. She suddenly collapsed and if not for Zazael, she'd fallen completely to the ground.

She was once again in the swirling darkness that greeted her whenever she visited Ralael in Oblivion, but instead of the glow of an angel finding her and the tug at her sanity, her world was lit up with a brilliance that forced her to place a hand over her eyes. When she could see once more she seemed to be before a council of sorts. Several angels sat on a dais in a semi-circle. Each had six wings, they were the Seraph, the very attendants of the Light itself. Two seats were empty. High along the walls were multitudes of angels, they were seated much like spectators at a coliseum. The entire room was pristine white marble trimmed in gold. Statues of angels and wings decorated everything.

Xandria turned and behind her stood two more Seraph, but one was circling the other. The angels had no distinguishing features except for the fact the Seraph were six winged, and she did not know which was Zazael or even if one of them was. Sex was determined only by the fact the females had a higher pitch of voice, even the armor was identical.

"The Light gave you a direct order, Zazael, and you disobeyed," spoke a voice. Xandria assumed that in Heaven the voices didn't echo. "That is sacrilege!"

"The Light did not give the order to murder Ralael and his daughter, Vathor. You did." Xandria recognized Zazael's voice. He seemed to be speaking to the circling angel. It was the only way she could tell the angels apart. They all had different voices.

"We have decided your punishment," spoke an angel from the council. It was a woman's voice.

"I see my fate was chosen before I could even defend myself," Zazael's voice seemed more disappointed than sad.

"You are hereby demoted," spoke Vathor as he stopped behind Zazael. Almost faster than Xandria could see, Vathor grabbed four of Zazael's six wings, kicked him in the back for leverage and with a howl of pain, Zazael fell to his hands and knees. Silver blood poured from his back but healed nearly instantly. The wings in Vathor's hands molted, the feathers turning to ash before blowing away.

"Zazael, you are sentenced to a generation in Oblivion," spoke the woman angel on the council. She waved her hand and Zazael himself began to turn to ash. He tried to fight it, but eventually blew away from the floor with an unfelt wind just like his lost wings. The scene winked out, leaving Xandria in darkness.

Xandria awoke, night had not gone or had fallen once again, she had no concept of time when dealing with angel magic. Clouds tried to cover the moon, but it still managed to peek through. She lay in front of a small fire in a circle of stones. The fire blazed brilliantly for such a small amount of fuel. It was the magic of the angel who was seated across the fire from her that caused the fire to behave the way it was. He could hide his appearance but his radiant magic affected things around him. Being in his presence made her feel harmonious and at peace even though she tried to fight it. Animals that would normally flee the fire and humans were laying next to each other around him. Predators and prey gave no notice of each other. She'd never been in an angel's company for so long since Ralael and it made her think of him. Xandria wanted to weep, she had missed his husband deeply.

"You were a Seraph," Xandria began, her throat tight.

"I am only an angel now," he replied to her.

"Why do you need me to stop the risen dead in this place?" Xandria asked, her hard voice returning. It didn't seem that something as powerful as an angel needed the help of a mortal to do anything.

"I believe it will take a killer of angels to stop it," Zazael said standing. He moved away from the fire and it burned so low that only a few charred sticks remained. The sleeping animals raised their heads and the spell over them seemed broken. They rushed back into the trees, the birds fluttering back into the sky.

"I need my sword," Xandria said firmly. Zazael reached under the brown cloak that covered his armor, there was a sound of unbuckling and he removed a shining sword of metal made from celestial steel. He tossed the sword to her, scabbard, belt and all.

"Use mine." He stated. When the sword and belt touched her hands, it immediately dulled, losing its glow. It did not turn the dark bronze of her sword, but it no longer looked like the weapon of an angel, more like a cheap copy. She buckled the belt around her hips over the tatters of clothing she wore from her stay at the prison in Clayaire. He mounted the horse and held his hand out to her. She climbed up behind him and they rode over the hill. She could now see the town, no more than a small hamlet, but she could smell the blood and corruption. Something evil lurked here and she didn't know what, but she would do the angel's task in order to get her revenge.