They'd watched, for eternity.
The spinning waters in etched glass crystal.
Brilliantly bright and dulled by ignorance.
Four crones gathered.
Faces burned away by shadows.
'Thrice we've warned the fallen God, thrice we've sent him salvation" The first Crone hissed.
'We can do no more for a fallen soul sister. Nothing can be done for one that wishies his own end." Replied the third.
"Then preparations should be made, his soul shall be mine. I will snatch it from his fallen body on the eve of the solstice." The second cackled.
"Why should it be yours? It should be mine, he belongs in my kingdom, not yours. his deeds are to dark to forgive." The forth countered
"Perhaps there is something else..."The crones turned and watched their distaste hidden by their rotten cloaks. "There is nothing that can be done for him, he must remain in one of the four Kingdoms!" The third hissed. The new comer watched the four guardians of Gaia, each wanted the falled God for their own kingdom. "It shall not be, his soul and body will not stay on Gaia, it will return to Elysium where it is needed.
The four crones gathered around their simmering cauldron of glass and peered into the murky depths of its waters. "We shall not allow it, he belongs on Gaia, his sins are too great, he is tainted."
"Then send a warrior from each kingdom to battle with the fallen, the victor shall return with his soul to their Kingdom. The crones paused then spoke, "it will be done, a warrior from each kingdom shall arise and take forth his body to its fate.
From each of the 4 Gaia kingdoms did a warrior rise. One from each, the Kingdom of Death, Hell, Life and Joy. No warrior from Elysium showed face.
The four warriors gathered in a clearing of aged washed stones. They stood with their faces upturned to the moonlight, the solstice was apon them. It bore down on them in bright stardusted glory, it emmenated power and strength to the combatants. For a flickering instant the silver moon hazed over in cloud cover, the hunt had begun.
From the Kingdom of Death he bounded, his clothes the skin of men and beasts, armed with a mace of teeth of beasts long extince. He grined savagly feeling the pulse of blood push him to near madness. Animals fled were he tread as he searched and howled out for the Fallen.
Durring his frenzy he came across a village. The moon's light cast out by shadows he crept to a mud hut with a roof of thatched straw. The door gave him little resistance as he pushed his was through. He could smell her, an untouched virgin as he entered, young she was. Petit and lith covered in thin blankets of woven wool. Her hair spread around her in a dark crown, he smiled. She fought and struggled as he pinned her beneth him in a wriggling mass. Her futile attempt a feedom ended as he glared down at her simply, watching, studying. Her screams did her no good as he muffled them in his palm.
The ropes came first out from a bag on his hip. He secured her hands and legs with no chance of escape. She whimpered under the restrains as he cooed to her, "Oh my pretty, you'll make Yaumcha very happy, yess....please Yaumcha." He giggled in his mindless delusion. Her screams came to his ears in unbidden fear and hatred for her attacker. Yaumacha the Warrior of Death grinned manaicaly watching her body buck under his. In a final act of carnage Death spilled himself into her body and smiled. The woman's head lolled on the floor, her neck broken in three places. Her limp body drove out rolls of santanical laugher from his throat as he raised her limp body to his lips and drank her spilling blood. Rejuvinated and alive Death gathered the body and set it aflame, the sacred rites had been performed, now the hunt had truely begun.
* * *
He smiled and saunted slowly through the field, soft starligh playing down on his body. Dressed in simple black woven pants he walked without shoes followed by the forests inhabitants. He gave no hint of his warror's stature, he carried no weapons. In a moments repose he stopped at the edge of the ocean. Watching his reflection for a moment he traced his fingers over thickly inked tattoos that covered his skin. It was from there he drew his power and will to battle. His calloused fingers rubbed over the braids in his thick hair, it spiked unaturaly in all directs. The animals gathered, wtihout fear of the Warrior of Joy as if to send him off of his journey. He took a calming breath to gather his strength and he steped out onto the surface of the salted water. He did not sink, but walked in a calm flowing stride across the surface to face his foe.
* * *
Hell to her was beautiful, the darkened air full of blistering burnt skin and raw meat. Souls ready for punishment were easily within grasp at every moment. Tracing her toungue over her canines she drew blood from herself. Enjoying the feeling as it drippled down her troat in an intoxicating stream. She had prayed long enough, she was ready for battle. Clothed in scantilious leather binding and tall boots she was the pinnical of all things representing hell. The blades she carried straped to her body, pressed up againts her unmarred flesh, they were the same blades cursed and damned to bring death to all who held them. Without soul or consience the Hellspawned warrior Chi Chi had nothing to fear.
* * *
The pressing winds of cold mountain tops had no effect of the Warrior from the Kingdom of life. Nothing could touch him up in his sanctuary of whipping ice and frozen rock. He paused, his head bent low in silent meditation. He could feel it surrounding his body, the heat and warmth, as it reached its peak he released the enegy he'd gathered. Gathering his simple sachel from his mountain dwelling the Warrior of Life ambled down the path a new warm glow highlighting his green skin.
* * *
The Fallen sat on his throne of shaped marble polished to a shine. His stood annoyed and angered at himself. The anger bubbled up and around his body in brilliant streams of red flames setting the leathery wings on his back to arch out with his tail. Clenching his hands in closed defeat he bowed his head. He haden't always been like this. The Fallen had been a warrior, praised and feared. His skills always better then the last, nothing had matched his skill and wit in or out of battle save one. She'd been glorious, curves and skin supple and soft, lips formed and tinted by roses. The cooling soft waterfall of colbat hair that tumbled down her milky white back laying gracefully between to wings of white like his own. She had matched his skill and surpassed him.
It'd thrown him into a swirling fit of disbelief, to have someone beat him? Impossible. In his greedy self-petulant anger he'd raged head on into battle againts two of the Gaia Kingdoms, Death and Hell. His point of consentration had been shattered, he was nolonger capable to hold himself within the tight boundarys of fighting he'd set himself too. Careless and foolish he'd run himself into a trap. Up from the darkest recesses of Hell they'd conjured up creatures set to living again in immortal fury by death.
With a majicked blade he swung and cleaved at the beasts, many fell under his furious onslaugh in resounding tumps on the blood soaked earth. His body ached and moaned at the strain of weilding a blade such as he did. As his strength faded so did the sorcery that encased the blade. With the last hell loosed beast fallen he sunk to his knees in wearyness and eventually to unconciousness.
Through the tiny cuts and abrasions the hell enchanted blood of death slunk into his Elysium body. It mingled with his blessed soul, tainting it and changing it's harmonious sound. His life's essance used to sing in perfect tune with Elysium, now it groaned in darkened torment. The glorious feathered wings molted and dryied to leathery husks of their former beauty. A new appendage sprouted from his posterior in the same leathery fashion as his new wings.
Apon awakening he realised that he would never again accent upwards to Elysium again, he was tainted with the blood of the Gaia kingdoms, he was now a Fallen. In his darkened state he'd vanished into the recesses of thick forests outside the Kingdoms' reach. 3 centuries past without contact from others, save three meddling inturptions from the Gaia Guardians.
Annoyed at the memories of his downfall he returned to his throne, sitting down harshly he closed his eyes in meditation. The attack came quickly, though the fallen wasn't expecting the sudden intruision his honned battle instincts had not dulled with time. He caught the mace easily as it rushed towards his head. The attacker seemed suprised by the Fallen's counter attack. "Yaumcha will beat you!" The attacker panted, rasing his mace for another asult, "Yaumcha is the Warrior of Death, he not get beaten. He take your soul back to Guardians." Yaumcha giggled in his insanity. "My soul is not for your taken mortal." the Fallen heaved the Warrior of Death above his head and onto the marble floor. Yaumcha hissed on the floor in pain. Not wanting to continue this futile battle any longer the Fallen reached around and snaped the neck of the Death warrior. Unimpressed by the Warrior's lack of skill he returned to his chair.
He could smell her before he saw her. the sharp stench of dried and feted carnige. The scantillious leather did little to make her appealing. It slowly dawned on the Fallen, the Guardians were fighting over his soul. To them Elysium soul's are precious, they most likely wished that he be abducted into a Kingdom to serve. Though petit she was no match for him. He felled he quickly with a sharp set of jabs and slashes from her own blades. When her body fell heaving to the ground next to the first warrior he let fall the blade from his hand. There burned into his palm was the mark of the hilt, "Hell Warrior.." he spat naming the most recent addition to his floor.
"Stand before me and fight Fallen one! I am here for you Elysium soul." The challenge came from a man, a man with skin green as the summer's grass. "I refuse to fight you Warrior of Life. You are of no challenge to me. My soul is not ready for taking." His voice was weary and low. "You will fight me!" The third warrior cried while lunging himself with staff in hand. The Fallen angered quickly and stood in a fluttering of wings. It took nothing more then a simple back hand to detere his foe from his path. The green man lay againts a wall in a daze for a moment before struggling to sit up.
The rage brewed stronger in the Elysium man, bringing up his own sword from behind his diasis he charged. The slow brutal moment streched on as he hacked at the limbs of the Life warrior. Compleatly dismembered of all but his head the falled turned, "I warned you that I would not fight."
The weak man bowed his head drawing his energies inwards. Slowly he reshaped himself pressing out new arms, and legs from his torso. "I will not be defeated so easily!" He hissed adopting a fighting stance. "Leave now. I have no interest in fighting you." Though his words stated one thing his mind boggled over the other. In all his time on Gaia or Elysium he'd never seen limbs regenerate like that. His mind relled as he clutched his blade firmly in one hand, 'perhaps if I remove his head...' he made three swings, two of which ended only is deep gashes on his attacker. The third faithrull attack sliced cleanly through his neck. In some twisted facination he watched at the blood spurted out of the severed head spashing on the floor.
The sudden appearance of the Gaian Warriors was somewhat disturbing, their sudden urge to capture his soul? This time he would be ready, the last to come would be Joy, the Fallen new the perfect way to end this battle simply and quickly. Gathering up the severed limbs and bodies he set about his plan. His fingers slick with blood and sweat the Elysium man sat to wait.
From over the ocean Joy came, walking calmly into the thick forrest foilege without a moments thought. As a cave loomed above him he knew he'd found the Elysium Fallen, he could smell him. A step closer, followed by another and one after that. Into the depths he wandered. It sprung so suddenly he was unable to react. A cage, metal he could not bend or break, he was trapped in the darkness alone, and imprisoned. Groaping around in his pockets his hand stumbled across his flint. The Sparks flew brightly giving him a moment to see. In a single blink the Warrior of Joy abandonned his quest in a screaming fit of agony. In the light of his sparks he'd seen them, his fellow warriors, all dismembered and dripping in their own juices. They bodies swung with the movement of the cage. Burying his head in his hands he screamed and forfeited his sanity in the murky darkness.
The Elysiium Falled smiled at the screams which humoured his ears. He had succeded in talking the lives of all Gaian warroirs, his soul was safe once more.
"Do you come to fight me as well?" He didn't turned his face to greet the new intruder. "No..I've come to bring you back with me." The voice was light and wind swept. "I have no desire to leave this place, now go!" "If that is what you wish, then your decision has been accepted." The Fallen turned his head out of curiousity, why would one enter his lair only to leave once more without his soul? In the darkened gloom he raised himself from his throne and lunged at the voice. It was she! She stood in all her Elysium glory, wings tucked around her beautiful body in a glowing blue aura. "Wait!" He rushed into her embrace, "take me with you my love!" She steped forward welcoming his embrace, the cooling Elysium aura dampning the hard redflames around him drawing out the Hell beasts' poision.
Together the reunited pair gathered themselves and ascened once more to Elysium.
* * *
"I told you his soul would be mine" the voice taunted to the four crone who stood transfixed apon their cauldron. "We shall find another" The first hissed. "You cannot keep elysium blood out of our grasp forever you know." the 3 remined the speaker. "Perhaps not forever, but I can keep it away from you long enough until you realise you crooked ways. Good-bye my sisters. Perhaps one day you shall ascend to Elysium"
Yeah I know it was strange but I wrote it in 2 and a half hours.