BwA: Chapter 12 - Xandria Comes Full Circle

 The seat of the Kostyan empire is Clayaire, named after the wife of the man who won Kostya's freedom from Adroitaca. Sadly his name has been lost to time. Clayaire is also home to Sanctuary, the main headquarters of the Holy Order. It has been passed down that the first angels who left heaven to become paladins touched earth where Sanctuary now stands. Weeks ago I'd have called this foolish fantasy of the peasants. – From the Journal of Severah ajal Binoch. 

 Clayaire had gates, guards and several walls, each built as the city expanded beyond the last. They were unmolested by the guards as they passed through the open gates and into the main street. Each wall's gate was staggered so that any attacking army did not have a straight path to the castle that dominated the center of the city. Not far from the castle was the tall spire/steeple of Sanctuary.

"What are we doing here?" Severah asked Xandria. "Should we not be going to rescue Zazael?" Xandria whirled on her.

"What do you suppose we do? Just start walking back to Zandria?" Xandria raised her eyes from Severah's face and spotted what looked like a noble woman watching them. The woman was dressed in a gown that Xandria couldn't put a finger on what color it was. When she first glanced at it, the gown was white, then it appeared blue, or was it green, no definitely yellow, pink? The woman's dark hair, Xandria wasn't sure if it was brown or black, just dark, was pulled up in curls in a band around her head. A tall, broad shouldered, deeply tanned man held a parasol over the woman to keep the sun off her. Only glancing up, Xandria realized the sun was not out. It was heavily cloudy, it looked like rain would be coming later.

"I can help you," spoke the woman in the most beautiful voice Xandria had ever heard. She walked closer to Xandria and Severah. The man followed her more loyal than a dog to keep the parasol over her. The woman looked odd to Xandria, like something wasn't quite right about her.

"I do not believe you want to get involved with us," Xandria did not address the noble woman as 'my lady.' She had about as much respect for nobles as she did the angels.

"Something belongs to you in a glass tomb, you may want it before you return to your oasis," the woman said pointing with a pale slim finger. Xandria noticed what it was that was bothering her about the woman, the woman gave off a slight glow, barely perceptible but it was there. It was more noticeable when she moved, the glow remaining where she'd been for only a moment. It reminded her of moonlight.

"Are you an angel?" Xandria asked cautiously. The woman did not have the black, featureless angel flesh she was accustomed to. The man holding the parasol gave a slight cough, as if choking back a chuckle. He was as well dressed as the woman, but not in clothes that changed colors. His blonde hair was long, tied at his neck. Lavender eyes gazed warily at Xandria. He looked more like a warrior than a servant though she saw no weapons on him.

"No, I am not an angel," the woman said slowly, like one would speak to a small child. "I am here to help. My name is Isakara and my father is the one you refer to as the Light." It dawned on Xandria, the woman was one of the paladin wives of the Holy Order. She did not doubt that Isakara had heard the story of Xandria the Merciless and this must be her boring game. She blamed the color changing gown and glowing skin of just lack of sleep, stress, and lack of air to her brain.

"Thank. You." Xandria said and tugging at Severah, she led the young woman towards Sanctuary. Isakara had been right. Her sword was entombed with Brother Ciagit, and Zazael's sword had been functional, but she wanted her sword, Ralael's sword. She loved Ralael, and knew she was developing the same feelings for Zazael, but Ralael's sword was all she had of him.

The last time Xandria had been to Sanctuary she'd been in chains. It was the only Holy Order stronghold she had avoided attacking. It wasn't because she was afraid, it was because if she attacked Sanctuary she'd have started a war with Clayaire and would've had the armies of Kostya on her. The news reports had often exaggerated the size of her war party, listing it in the hundreds when she normally had less than fifty men and women.

Sanctuary was a large monastery, where paladins were trained at various skills in the courtyards that were lavish enough to rival the castle's. Large fountains, bigger statues, gardens of blooming flowers, decorative ponds, a stable, a kennel, and the crypts. The shining sun motif was everywhere. Xandria and Severah walked along the grounds towards the crypt in the rear of Sanctuary.

The crypt was not void of people. Others were there paying their respects to the fallen. Normally the paladins were burned and their ashes interred in alcoves with name plates. There were a few stone sarcophagi of the 'greater' paladins, those that were more famous. Xandria crossed her arms before a glass coffin on a raised stone dias. According to the dates the dead guy in the coffin with his hands on her sword had been dead for about twenty years but he had not decayed at all. Except for the lack of the rise and fall of his chest, he could've been just sleeping. Carved into the stone dais was the story of Xandria the Merciless as seen by the Holy Order and that she was some vile witch that had been finally conquered by the man known as Brother Ciagit. Using Zazael's sword, she smashed the glass of the coffin. Others in the crypt turned to look at her.

Once she curled her hand around the hilt of her sword, it was like a switch had been flipped inside her. She hefted the sword. It appeared bronze but like Zazael's sword, weighed almost nothing. She twirled both in her hands. Brother Ciagit's corpse suddenly withered and decayed leaving a desiccated skeleton. People ran from the crypt and paladins ran in.

"Stay behind me, Severah," Xandria ordered.

"Stop! What have you done?" Shouted the paladins before her. "Zandria the Cruel!" Others shouted with recognition.

"Please," Xandria scoffed. "I'm Xandria the Merciless." She attacked them. Each step, each whirl, every slice and stab was more like a dance as Xandria moved around the paladins who appeared to clumsily jab at her with their swords in an area where she'd only been a split second before. She pulled her sword from the armor of the last remaining guard and shoved him to the floor.

"Xandria!"

"What?"

"Did you have to kill them?"

"Yes. They would've killed us."

It was a battle for Xandria to leave Sanctuary and once she'd gotten to the gates she hesitated. A battalion of Clayaire's guards were mounted and waiting for them.

"Now what are you supposed to do?"

"Come this way," said the beautiful voice from the side of the wall. Isakara stood there, accompanied by her loyal servant who still held the parasol over her even though she was completely in the shade of the wall.

"Why help me?" Xandria asked.

"Because the child you carry within your womb will be the beginning of a new race upon Noristrad. A race I will call my own." Isakara was trying to lead Xandria along the wall back towards the crypt.

"What do you mean?"

"I will send you to your oasis," the woman said quickly. Like Zazael had, she placed her hands on them and suddenly they were moving very fast. The land around them is moving in a blur. They stopped at the top of the cliff that looked down into the oasis. Even the servant with his parasol was with them. She needed it now, the sun blazed overhead.

"Who are you?"

"I told you I am Isakara. Now go."

"Severah, stay with them." Severah looked disappointed but only nodded.

"We will protect her," Isakara promised. Xandria was compelled to leave and enter her oasis once again. This time she did not allow herself to be arrested. She left the guards in pieces at their posts. The trio blinked off the cliff, moments later, only the noble woman and her servant reappeared.

"You are taking a dangerous risk, my lady," spoke the servant in an aristocratic voice.

"I know Giacomo, but Zazael is the last of the old angels. His only salvation is for what Xandria must do. Let us return to Heaven." They blinked from the cliff again.

As Xandria moved down the pathetic streets that were no more than wide muddy paths, she discovered that ninety percent of the people she'd seen moving about the city were demons in human forms. As she neared they morphed into forms of goatmen, imp, succubi, things that slithered and skittered. She dispatched them as quickly as she had the human paladins.

"XANDRIA!" Penelope's voice bellowed through the city. "COME SAVE YOUR ANGEL!" Penelope stood in armor much like the angels and her red wings moved from her back. Chained to the fountain that replaced the poisoned well, in black chains that looked more like barbed wire was Zazael. His armor was removed, he wore nothing more than a white tunic and breeches, the chains bit into his flesh, silvery blood oozed from countless cuts. His wings appeared fused to the fountain, almost part of the marble it was carved from. They struggled and pulled at their own bondage.

"IT'S A TRAP, XANDRIA," Zazael shouted a warning to her.

"Of course it's a trap," Xandria said calmly, stepping from between two hovels. She carried an angel sword in each hand, hers and Zazael's.

"Xandria," Zazael began, then seized in pain. "I can't hold out much longer." The corruption had spread to nearly his entire body. His wings were flickering red and white.

"It's okay. You don't have to anymore," Xandria's voice was soothing. "Just let go, Zazael." The wings stopped flickering and remained red. Fire engulfed his entire body and he stood. The chains that held him melted and dropped away. A charred spot was on the fountain where he'd been chained to it.

"You have no idea how good this feels. The power!" Zazael said in a voice that reminded Xandria of slime and scuttling bugs. To hear him speak hurt her ears and broke her heart. His armor reappeared on him, black and spiked. His once black angel flesh was now red, like heated metal.

"I know," Xandria answered him. A tear fell from her eye.

"Kill her, Zazael," ordered Penelope from behind the blazing corrupted angel. Zazael slowly turned.

"I do not take orders from a human," Zazael snarled and the feathers of his red wings reached out, grabbing Penelope by her limbs. She screamed in pain, smoke rising from where the feathers touched her skin and Xandria could smell burning flesh. The scepter fell from her hand and rolled away. They started to pull her limbs. Xandria sliced downward, severing the feathers that suddenly turned to snakes and fell away from Penelope's limbs. Zazael jerked in pain.

"No Zazael, she's mine to kill. You promised me revenge," Xandria said firmly standing between her sister and her recent lover. There was a moment when she thought he was going to attack her, but he backed down. Xandria turned to Penelope who was trying to crawl to her scepter. Xandria kicked it further away, then placed a sword blade on either side of her sister's neck.

"You murdered an entire oasis of men, women, children so that you could rule an empire of demons and slaves. Goodbye, sister." Xandria swiped and the blades crossed, Penelope's head rolled away. As soon as the decapitating cut was made the face and flesh began to age. In moments the body of an old woman lay dead in the town square. The red wings faded to white and fell loose from her back where they had been surgically sewn onto the flesh. Xandria turned to Zazael, he was laughing now. He was suddenly upon her, slamming her forcefully into the wall of a nearby building. He held her off the ground by her throat.

"I will finish what Ghaemo started. I now know he was right, I can be a god! I had a mind to make you my queen but I believe you will be more trouble than you're worth," Zazael said in a low growling voice. Xandria jerked her arms, the swords were still in each hand. There was a swish sound along with the whisper of falling feathers. Zazael dropped her and doubled over. There was no whoosh of power. His armor fell off him, piece by piece. His red skin burned off him leaving a tanned, soot covered man. His appearance was fortyish, laugh lines and crow's feet, a broken nose, he had no eyebrows or lashes or even hair upon his head, but it would grow in time. His hands were rough and calloused as he inspected them. He looked up at her with new golden eyes.

"Xandria?"

"My name is Fylfawen de Moor and it was the only way I could save you," she said before kissing him.

The vampire race known as the vanisakara, or literally translated as Isakara's children, were born from the mating of the old angel race and a human. The first vanisakara was named Tanmos de Moor and all vampires are descended from him. This all happened in a time when the god Man simply called the Light became the god of gods we know today as Timoceles, the father of Feyd, god of Man, and Isakara, goddess of Vampires. Their rivalry to see who wins Noristrad rages still today, even though the vampire race has dwindled and changed. Vanisakara are no longer born but humans embraced, hence called vampires. – From a History of Vampires written by Cloewton Isdis.

I became an aunt today. Fylfawen gave birth to a baby boy she and Zazael have named Tanmos. He seems healthy but his skin is gray like stone and his eyes are entirely golden from edge to edge. A pair of tiny black feathered wings are upon his back. – From the journal of Severah ajal Binoch.

THE END