|
|
Post by kenryo on Sept 9, 2015 22:41:58 GMT -6
As he slumbered, only the memories were there to keep him company. The dream was always the same, only growing more vivid as time passed. He would wake in a lake of blood littered with bodies. At the center it was all those he cared for, his friends and family. And the son he was forced to kill, Leon. That moment killed a large part of what was left of his humanity. Around all the pain, death, and suffering he held onto his conviction of family, one he was forced to betray. As he pulled his son close to him, he combed his long white hair from in front of his face. Pulling him close the tears began to fall. As they hit the water, bellowing shrieks of laughter started to fill the air. Subtle at first, then deafening and then silence.
This is when the whispers started, the voices asking "Why them?".... "How could you kill us all?"
He has no answer in this moment, an eternity of violence was all he's known. And to most this would've been a death sentence long ago. But he kept on, hoping the love he had for others could keep him on the path. But now, forced to remember, forced to live with what he's done... Many say what he had done was a necessary evil, but to him it's easy to say when it not your burden. To simply say it was right, but to see their faces again. To know the loss of your only son, and to make it worse... at his own hand. If fate had forced this upon him, who else might he lose? Could he live with it? Can he bring himself to do it again?
It was not his way, to overthink... Why now? Why at a time of peace is he at his most turbulent? "Am I, just a killing machine... is it my sole purpose." These questions plagued him, and the only answer he could come up with, was yes. "That is all I am, and all I have ever been. "
"Is this why, I'm always on the outside?? Is it because people fear what's inside of me?" The circles the mind takes when your forced to deal with your own demons. In this moment, the hardest fight he'll ever face, is the one within himself. And it's one he fears he's losing.
"I'm alone in the world, I have blood ties... I have family and friends. But if they aren't an enemy now all I fear is the dread of losing them. My nephew Shakaar, who I believe is dead. My son... This world will take everything from me."
In this moment he awoke, in a fit of rage striking the stone slab the covered him. It flung across the room as if he struck a piece of paper. He fell out, landing on his knees gripping his face in both hands sobbing. One of the strongest bodies, now had a fractured and weak mind. And to him that made him a threat to everyone he cared for. If only because he couldn't be what he was. Unrelenting... unquestioning. He had doubts about himself, and the path he had chosen.
"Will this be my final chapter? A husk of what I was, remnant of a time past?" He isolated himself to find solace, but found none. In life he was his own worst enemy, and now he's the same in his own mind.
|
|
|
|
Post by kenryo on Sept 17, 2015 20:20:54 GMT -6
After allowing himself to lay there for almost a week, he pulled himself to his feet. Something was calling for him to venture out. He didn't understand why, he wanted to be alone. But his very essence was ravenous for the contact with other life. Getting dressed in his normal fashion of typical all black attire, he picked up his blade if only for a moment. "I hope I won't be needing this..." Placing it in the corner of chamber, he walked out. His keep was dug into the mountains, very well hidden by the forest that surrounded it.
He decided to walk to the nearest town, which was only five miles away. It had grown in the decades he was hibernating. As he walked in, he of course stood out like a snow flake in a coal mine. He stood over a head taller than even the giants among them. Several whispers began to circle around him, they almost made him nervous flashing him back to what drove him into isolation. But finally, he reached the tavern.
Walking in, he went to a cornered table. Several of the patrons simply began to stare. After several minutes the barkeep had to approach, his wenches refused, scared to go near him. "You have the look of Atlas sir... carrying much weight on those broad shoulders?" He let out a half chuckle almost to try and break the tension. Ken simply looked up at him, his eyes cold as ice. "The strongest you have... and I mean exactly that." The man's eye grew wide..."Sir the strongest we have is fifty gold per bottle, fermented with the blood of dragons." Ken dropped a small bar on the table. "I'll take two... bring them and leave me to my drunken moment." Ken's eyes turned to his table, trying best to ignore the eyes of those around him.
The man returned with two bottles, pulling the cork out of the first for him. The stench that came from the bottle was almost sickening. "Sir this has been known to cause delirium even in those not of the world. I would express caution. " Ken's eyes turned to anger and he locked eyes with the keep... "I believe I warned you to bring them and leave. I do not need your warnings. " And as a simple display of frustration he threw back the entire bottle in front of him, then threw the bottle against the wall shattering it. The man simply backed away slowly...
Ken then turned his attention to the other bottle, pulling the cork he sat back and began slowly sipping on it. A few minutes later he looked up and noticed the room was warping in and out... "Wow, I'm a lightweight now." Was all he thought... but oh well maybe if he finishes both he can sleep for another decade.
As he got closer to the bottom of the bottle, the air around him seemed to go dry. The wood in the floor dried, cracked and began to warp. So did the chair and the walls around him started to do the same. After a few more minutes the patrons began to complain of dry mouth, they couldn't chug the ale fast enough...
Then the women and smaller men started dropping, passing out. Then everyone else in the room did the same, he was so inebriated he simply thought they were drunk. But soon their bodies began to hollow out. Turning into no more then sacks of bone and dried flesh. All the moisture in them had been sapped out, but the more this happened the less Ken felt. The less his memories tortured him. "Well your simply a lame bunch, hehe..." Finishing off the bottle, he set it upon the table. He sat there for maybe thirty more minutes, so far gone it didn't really dawn on him what was happening. But man, did he suddenly feel just a little better.
Getting up, he left the pub walking outside all the homes, and buildings seemed to suddenly be in the same shape as the tavern. The creeks were dry and not a sound was made. Livestock laid dead, drained, you couldn't hear a soul moving. The grass, farmlands and tree's were so brown they were past dead. They were almost rotting. "Man I didn't remember this place looking this shitty when I got here..."
He simply turned and begun the walk back, unknowing to himself there was a perfect trail of dead wildlife that came straight to the entrance of the cave. The very ground he walked on turned to desert sand, tree's hollowed out, rotten and splitting into the ground. Going inside, he closed the large stone slab that usually blocks the entrance. Plopping face down into his bed, he passed out...
This time when the dreams came, it was a night and day difference from what he normally suffered. It was simply pleasantries... Everything he would enjoy, it was euphoria. Yep, a good night sleep indeed...
(Out of character, this is an effect that is still going on around him.)
|
|
|
|
Post by Alexis and others on Sept 19, 2015 8:40:37 GMT -6
Kiera Jenkins
Ah the realm of dreams named the Dream Scape, turbulent twisting never the same twice. This was the realm that demons angels and mental creatures of the imagination called home. A realm lead and governed peacefully by that of the realms creators. The demon clan Jenkins, a family of Demonic Succubi and Inccubi who were tasked with the realms control and protection. The women of the family known realm wide as the most powerful of all creatures in the dream realm. The Matriarch, Samantha Jenkins, leading the realm into it's survival with such beauty and grace, angels often found themselves curiously wondering exactly how she was not one of them. Though as Kenryo slept his dreams opened not for Samantha, but the daughter to the Clan's beloved Den Mother. The moment she appeared in his mind her head turned to glance around as she observed her surroundings and laughed out. "Goodness, you boy's have such a strange way of seeing the world and truths around you. Still, Kenryo, I know you do not know me.. and I am sorry to interupt your slumber, but you must wake.. things are not right in your world, life is threatened and there are powers that are at work that seem to be seeking to awaken all of the elder spirits. The Van Carters have woken, this may be your first stop. find Ashleigh's tower and seek out what he knows." As she stood, had the drunken state of Kenryo's sleep been dulled to, he'd no doubt easily confuse Kiera for the visage of her mother. She was indeed growing to equal beauty to that of her highly known mother but being the younger, had still quite the way to go to match her Mothers perfection. The message delivered she shook her head and turned to leave Kenryo in his sleep. As she parted her voice carried to Kenryo as though an echo leaving the area. "Oh and for the love of all that's Demonic, clean this place up.. you men always have the most unsavory flavorless bland dreams ever... like looking at a still frame picture of a blank piece of paper... and people wonder why I do not feed from the dreams of men.. simple, Logical thoughts. Logic tastes like sour spinach and rotten Brussel Sprouts to us.. Worst energy to feast from, ever." With that she was gone though a lingering presence could be felt as though she was there but not there. Her scent, like that of lialac and honey, was hard to place. Whether it was fresh in the air or on the mind, it couldn't be known. It was like that feeling that one was being watched but when they turned to look nothing was there.
|
|
|
|
Post by kenryo on Sept 19, 2015 17:10:44 GMT -6
He grunted, his pleasant dream was interrupted... "The hell..." He sat up holding his head which felt like god had reached down and slammed a mountain on it. He couldn't help but wonder how real that was... "I had... a bit to much to drink.." Forcing himself onto his feet, he thought "Van Carters... well then..." That was a name he has been intertwined with for centuries. Ashleigh and him had always been two sides of a coin. One a clever master of Magick, the other a psychical juggernaut who had little rivals. They had danced a feud for years, but always a respectful one. Neither wanted to make enemies out of the other, if only because of the benefits that came to having the other as an Ally. Although Kenryo had known Ash before he became what we know today. And watching him obtain that power was something he admired, a far cry from the young lad he met in a tavern all those years ago. But with everything going on could he really trust him? He is famous for having friends, but always putting his goals before anyone else. Ken had almost been used by him before, but his personal commitment to Morrigan held him from completing what the master wizard needed from him. And with that thought "I wonder if they are still out there..." With all of his gifts, picking up on who was alive or not was never among them. His knowledge of the outside world and those still in it are as dark as his room was...
With a grunt he stood on his feet, although wobbly at first. Shaking his head in a half-ass attempt to get the cobwebs out, he attached his sword to his hip. Walking to the large slab he placed both hands on it, tilting his head down..."Alright lets see what's really going on..." Pushing it out of the way, Ken's jaw dropped in horror seeing the surrounding area. As far as he could see all the way to the town he was in everything was dried up and dead. Even a few people who were naive enough to follow the trail to his cave. He could tell that they were trying to crawl away in their suffering. The land looked like it had experienced a thousand year drought. And the people and animals look like they've been baking in the sun about as a long. The only thing that indicated anything different was the clothing looked brand new. "What!.... who did this! Was this me!" He shook his head in disbelief... "No, I wouldn't do this... not willingly!" He just circled looking up the mountain, it was the same. The mountain even for as high as it was didn't even have snow at the top anymore. It was barren like it was plucked from a desert and placed there. He then noticed in about a three mile wide radius around him, there was an empty dry spot in what was a downpour. You could see in the distance rain was flooding the area, but the rain was dissipating as it entered the area. "Why, I'm not wanting this... but I... can't stop it either..." He was the center point of it, it was coming from him.
"If I go to them now, I'll endanger them... I might be now, how far will this spread." Walking back into the mountain, he slammed his fist into the wall as he walked back inside collapsing the tunnel. Going further in he entered into his room which was about a hundred feet deep into the mountain. Looking to the roof... "If I'm the cause, I should bring this whole mountain down on myself. I'm killing people just by walking near me!!!" With that he slammed himself into one of the walls, it sent shock waves threw the mountain. Cracks began to appear on the wall... He did it again, a good sized chunk collapsed from the roof. "Maybe the last good thing I could do for this world..."
|
|
Milenko
Junior Member
Searching for my missing history...
Posts: 52 
|
Post by Milenko on Oct 5, 2015 20:52:38 GMT -6
Metatron:
The seven-winged messenger shot through the air toward Kenryo's mountain home. Landing just as spectacularly on the blighted ground surrounding the mountain as it did in the farm far from the Darkheart manor, the light faded from the angel's gender-less form as it tilted it's head to the side, hearing the impacts of Kenryo's fist on the stone deep in the heart of the upthrust stone. Surprise lit it's features as it turned the empty sockets of its eyes toward the entrance. Its wings supported it half a foot above the stricken ground as it seemed to wait. Just in case Kenryo failed to notice it's arrival, so wrapped up in his self-pity as the Host had said he was, the figure sent a directed pulse of its holy Presence at the mountain, signifying one much higher than even Gabriel had been in the hierarchy of the Host had arrived and wished to speak with Kenryo...
|
|
|
|
Post by kenryo on Oct 5, 2015 21:24:37 GMT -6
(Kenryo)
He stopped, as soon as the energy of a fellow angelic hit him. This one, stopped him dead in his tracks. Very few gave off this presence, and it wasn't something that even Kenryo would disrespect or ignore, even in his craziest of days. He turned toward what was once the entrance to his mountain. Still armed with his weapon, he let out a blood curdling scream and ran straight towards the rubble that blocked the path out. Crossing his forearms across his face, he drove threw the tons of rock and rubble like a shovel went threw loose sand. Upon reaching the open, he shot his arms out launching a large portion of the rubble in all directions around him. It was a show of force, nothing more.
As he stood there, he locked eyes with someone familiar, someone he had known for a long time. One he never kept much contact with, but he always knew his position and authority he had over the legion. His expression quickly went from challenging and threatening to a humble one, he knew his place in this conversation. "I remember you.... Metatron." He gripped the hilt of his sword, pulling it scabbard and all off of his hip and throwing it into the dirt beneath him. This was something he never did, offer himself unarmed to anyone. But in his heart, he knew a simple blade made little difference in this. It was a sign of respect, a sign of hospitality to a superior.
Closing the distance between the two, he was about ten feet from where Metatron hovered, then he did the one thing he hasn't done to anyone, for as long as history has written about him. Hr dropped to a knee, and bowed his head before Metatron. He knew full well that the carnage around him was nothing that went unnoticed by his eldest brother. "You call, I am here to receive your words.... Metatron."
|
|
Milenko
Junior Member
Searching for my missing history...
Posts: 52
|
Post by Milenko on Oct 7, 2015 13:49:08 GMT -6
Metatron:
When Kenryo stormed his way free from the cavern, causing an explosion of rock, the winged figure didn't even bother to try to dodge the flying debris. What few that flew in its direction simply disappeared, crushed to harmless powder as soon as it interacted with the glow surrounding it. Metatron didn't even bother to dampen down its emanations of Glory, nor to take any other form, knowing that Kenryo would be safe against the passive radiation of Holy might pouring from its true form.
Metatron seemed to be "looking" at Kenryo, though its eye sockets remained empty, for a few moments of silence after the other had finished speaking. Then, with a bow of its head of mutual respect...after all, even for one so low as Kenryo, there was still the matter of what he had been...a voice that would have driven mortal beings insane with rapture spoke, "It has come the attention of the Host that your powers are going astray, loosening without your will. This is...unfortunate. The threat is such that We are compelled to take action."
Metatron fell silent for a moment, communing with the Host, then added, "It is the general consensus that you be eliminated. Yet, there is also the prevalent opinion that you be given a choice, a chance, one that has now been given twice to another of far more loss of Glory than even you.
"We offer this compromise," Metatron continued. "The first option is that you allow the Host to destroy you, then grant your power to another. The second is that you be destroyed, unwillingly. The third is that your power, your role as a Horseman, be forcibly stripped from you, whether willingly or no. That would be...painful. However, you would be allowed continued existence, albeit as a mere Fallen, and therefore being an enemy of the Host, one that would eventually be destroyed. The final option is similar to the third, at least in some respects. You can regain your Glory, your former position among the Host, should you make this choice.
"The choice is this: repent all of your former actions against the Host and the Almighty. Admit your wrongs, and seek forgiveness through penance. The penance would be the same as that which Gabriel faces: become mortal, all your power locked away, completely inaccessible to you. There will be a goal you must accomplish, and part of that will be discovering just what that goal is. You will be allowed to choose your form, what abilities your form will have, within reason, so long as they do not relate to your role as a Horseman. But, be warned: should you fail, or should you be killed, you will not have a soul. You will have mortal form, with mortal frailties, but you will not be equal with them. You will be susceptible to all the same weaknesses as your chosen form of mortality would. If human, you can be poisoned, you can be stricken with illnesses, you can and will bleed. If you die, your essence dies with your body. Oblivion is all that will await you."
Metatron's empty eyes seemed to lock with Kenryo's as it said, "Choose quickly, and choose wisely. The Host has little patience. It is only because your brother Horseman, Death, was given this chance twice before that you are even being given this one."
|
|
|
|
Post by kenryo on Oct 7, 2015 14:56:53 GMT -6
(Kenryo)
He lifted his head, all the options were laid bare for him. All of them were generous from the host, considering the path he took in life. He locked eyes with what would be Metatron's. Taking a deep powerful breathe he gave as honest of an answer as he could. "You ask me, do I wish to die now... or live a mortal life and try and fix the mistakes I have made?" He shook his head slightly, a soft smirk came across his face. "I've never had a desire to be mortal, nor do I wish to fight to regain my status. I've fought enough for ten eternities. I offer.... nay beg for an alternative. You know full well while I did fall, I was the main one backing Michael against the dark one. My services before my fall was impeccable. I humbly request, that I regain my grace not my power and rejoin my brothers in the clouds. Not as someone of power, but someone who could spent eternity living in peace. I ask for a mortal's death, and heavenly afterlife. And in exchange I offer repentance, and acknowledgement of the wrongs I have committed, and offer my life, my power, and my position in exchange. And will willingly allow myself to be taken..." Tears began to pour down his face, the offer was a generous one. He was throwing himself at the mercy of his creator, hoping that most of his good deeds, along with a repentant heart, that maybe his days of fighting for everything could be over. "And then maybe, the one who gains my power will be a wise protective soul who can do a better job than I...."
|
|
Milenko
Junior Member
Searching for my missing history...
Posts: 52
|
Post by Milenko on Oct 7, 2015 15:23:39 GMT -6
Metatron:
The seven-winged angel fell silent, communing once more with the rest of the Host that was invisibly surrounding the area. Nodding, it turned its attention back to Kenryo and said, "The choice you seem to be begging for is naught but your own destruction. It is feared that you do not comprehend the consequences of such a choice. For an angel to be stripped of their status leaves them being one of two things. One, they would become but an empty shell, dead. Unlike the mortals, we have no soul. We have an essence, a spirit if you will, but that would be destroyed upon being stripped of our status. Or, alternately, you would be reduced to a mere mortal, but again without a soul. There is no afterlife for such as we. No Heaven, no Hell. If we were sent to Hell, it is our entire being that is thrust within the flames, though we would not have the release of death unless it is given to us by the Shamed One. Do you understand now? Oblivion, or mortal life followed by oblivion. That is the choice it seems you face now, unless you should wish to unmake your previous decision. Be warned, however...If you choose mortality without any chance of regaining favor and Glory, the stripping of your powers and status would be so agonizing that you may well be driven to madness. It is nearly certain. Never before has one of our number been able to resist the pain enough to retain sanity.
"So," Metatron finished, "Your choices are now thus: unmake your decision, oblivion, or insane mortality followed by oblivion upon death."
|
|
|
|
Post by kenryo on Oct 7, 2015 15:46:15 GMT -6
The decisions placed before him was ridiculous. Once again he would be forced to play the game, otherwise cease to exist. "Fine Metatron, I retract my offer. And in light of your previous offer accept them attempt to regain glory." This was the closest thing to what he wanted, it means fighting for one more cause. One more fight.... it's all he kept telling himself. But what to choose, what direction could he go that would compliment how he already fought. How to give himself while small, a slight edge. "I take the offer of fighting for my grace, now... between us. I know you answer to the host, but you and I both know if I succeed I'll be useful to you. I know you can't directly help, but a bread crumb or two will earn you my eternal gratitude." He then stood up, pulling the blade off his back still in it's sheath. Flipping the blade around he tossed the angelic weapon to Metatron.... "This I won't be able to wield while mortal, we both know that. Keep it safe for me..." Now the question on who or what to become, he locked eyes with Metatron. "My looks, short of my wings are very human like. I wish to remain exactly how I look now. And just take on the attributes of a goliath, simply a giant among men." He was ready, the road began here... This will be the toughest fight of my life, he told himself.
|
|
Milenko
Junior Member
Searching for my missing history...
Posts: 52
|
Post by Milenko on Oct 7, 2015 16:53:26 GMT -6
"Done," said Metatron as it caught the sword. A part of the angel suspected this would be Kenryo's choice, but it also had figured...and secretely hoped...that Ken would choose to resign as a Horseman, yet retaining his angelic status. This choice was the more difficult by far.
With a flick of its wings, Metatron drifted closer to Kenryo and enveloped him within its light, which brightened as its upper-most sets of wings folded around him, leaving a single wing fluttering and keeping it floating. Eyelids closed over their disturbing empty sockets as Metatron allowed itself to become a conduit for the Power flowing through the Host.
Kenryo would feel but little pain at first, as the change began to take hold. More of a sudden absence than actual pain, acute loss once the powers Ken once had were locked away beyond his reach. However, pain would soon lance through his body as it changed in a physical sense. His wings would extend fully to the ground, then would simply seem to melt away from tip to root, as though they were being lowered into acid. Too, his body would further alter, taking on the same internal physical characteristics of a mortal. This went beyond simple shape-shifting, which all angels were somewhat conversant with. This was actual altering of Ken's physical body beyond what it was meant to. Organs shifted, some moving their position, others disappearing, some of those being replaced with human counterparts. Muscle tissue tore and reformed, bulking in some areas, thinning in others as Ken's bones were forcibly elongated and thickened, becoming denser in order to accommodate the effects of the square/cube law, keeping him from being crushed and killed by the effects of gravity upon his now larger form.
Metatron's wings unfurled from around Kenryo's body as the angel drifted away from the now-mortal...and naked...man, the light receding from him to reveal that he was now a full eight and a half feet in height. Ken's muscles were now bulked in a way that it was obvious that his normal strength would be equal to that of at least five men. Angered, or from other adrenaline-fueled emotions, would increase that to being equal to some ten normal men. Unfortunately, Ken would now require training to be able to not only use his strength effectively, but to also use it quickly, as the added bulk would slow him down drastically. However, those rock-hard muscles and dense skeletal structure would also allow him to be more durable than any normal mortal, yet less so than any supernatural mortal would be.
Before the glow of Glory would fade, Metatron ran its hand down the sword Kenryo had thrown to it. As it did, the passing hand would reveal that the weapon was also changing, losing all connection to what Kenryo had been, becoming but a plain katana, though enlarging itself to better fit Ken's new size. A simple toss of the now-massive weapon sent it flipping through the air to stick into the ground at Ken's feet.
The glow of Glory dissipated, revealing Metatron's Dimitri form, having changed to protect Ken from the effects of seeing an angel in full form at such a close range. "You are now mortal, Kenryo," Dimitri said, his voice similarly changed. "You might wish to assume another moniker while in this form, however, unless you wish word of your new vulnerabilities to become known to both friend and foe, though few of the latter remain among the living."
|
|
|
|
Post by kenryo on Oct 8, 2015 19:38:12 GMT -6
The transformation was painful, well that was an understatement. It drained him completely taking almost everything he had to make it back into the keep and lay himself down. After sleeping for almost an entire day he woke up and felt an unfamiliar feeling. His stomach was in knots and felt like it was turning on himself. Holding his stomach he grunted " well shit... Is this what hunger feels like!" He had no rations... Why the hell would an angel need things like food and water. Fortunately there was a rain over the night and the dried ground left patches of water for his trip to get to town.
Rising up he went over to his clothes looking thru them he yelled " damn it none of this fits!! " Then he looked at a set of clothes that were mistakenly made to large even for him but the material was so expensive he kept them. "Well... Isn't this just dandy" putting them on he still looked ridiculous. The pants were almost half a foot to short and now he was so bulky he couldn't button up the shirt."Screw it " with that he ripped the sleeves off the shirt and cut the pants into shorts. He then threw a large black cloak over it all. " finally some good news " He then looked at his shoes.... "Could this be anymore of a pain in the ass just to get dressed!!" Screaming to the sky "Hey! Couldn't help me out here just a bit!". Putting on a thick enough belt to support the weight he attached the large blade and hid it the best he could under his cloak. Then taking random cloth and string he fashioned what was close to shoes from them.
Taking a moment he sat down on a large rock looking at the light shining into the tunnel out... " Ok no idea what this task is or where to start... Who can I trust? The VanCarters? No... At least not Ashleigh... He'd take advantage of the moment. The Sunain's? Good people... But probably have their own problem at the moment... Morrigan? Every fiber of my being wants to set eyes on her again... But am I safe with anyone knowing this yet? I'm sure at the moment another mortal regardless of size blends with the masses with people looking for me... I'll let the wind... And naturally sustenance decide my direction. ". Standing he took a huge deep breathe and walked out. " Oh!" Turning back in he grabbed a large sack of gold and a baseball sized bad of diamonds. Then walked back out. Grabbing a large boulder he struggled to slide it in front of the opening... "Jesus that's more difficult now" shaking his head he began the walk, where he was heading he had zero idea..
|
|
Milenko
Junior Member
Searching for my missing history...
Posts: 52
|
Post by Milenko on Oct 8, 2015 20:01:28 GMT -6
Dimitri/Metatron:
Dimitri watched as the changed Kenryo disappeared inside the cave, admiring the now-mortal man's courage. This would, perhaps, be the greatest challenge of Ken's existence. Once Ken was fully inside, Dimitri turned and started walking away, fading from mortal sight now that his business among them had concluded. Once invisible, he re-took his angelic form, then sped toward the Heavens. High above the area, Metatron turned to the side and spoke in the tongue used solely amongst the Host to one of the figures flying nearby. It nodded, then began to spiral downward toward the nearest forest to Ken's cave, one not quite destroyed by his former powers of famine. Metatron's seven wings flexed, sending it with a soundless bang of light into the Heavenly Realm, the rest of the Host following it.
When Ken strode out of the cave a day later, he would find a poor, starved, gaunt and bony figure of a stag come walking calmly toward him. Once within reach, it curled its legs beneath it and lowered its horned head to the ground, baring the back of its neck. Obviously, this was a blessing that Ariel, Archangel of Nature, had bestowed upon him at the urging of Metatron. This was all that the Host was willing to do to aid Kenryo. The rest, he would have to do on his own...
|
|
