MADE

~ War ~

And all hell broke loose.

A cry sounded from The Raven's throat - The Taken's throat - like a drum. Both steady lines wavered as they lunged forward, snow kicking up like wisps behind them as they sprinted toward each other.

Fire collided first, futile against one another. Bodies spun blazing, turning the snow at their feet into moist ground.

A gleaming white stream leapt from the line to the east, chocolate hair waving behind her like a flag. The only winged creature to ever have brown hair, so rich even from the eyes viewing her below. The ivory wings jutting out from her shoulders were tipped with brown and ivory feathers, more bird like then angel. A hawk then, as she dove at that blazing fire, wings outstretched. Where she flew in that crowd of fire, soldiers fell. Either falling from decapitated limbs or simply being sliced in half. The Raven had plated her wings with razor edging. She flew back up into the sky, now red covered and leaving a trail of it in the snow behind her.

Somewhere else in the line, invisible boot prints marked the snow. They weren't the only pair that began to cut the opposite side down but this mark in the snow stretched out with magic. Caging as many people in one of her steal bindings she watched them struggle, strangling them where they stood. And when that wasn't fast enough she began throwing them into the air with her mind, where the razor tipped hawk sliced them in two. Or she would just pull on them from two opposite ends, stretching them apart until there insides broke.

A gleam of white past them all, not wings or snow covered but burning so hot and bright the flames had gone stark white. No one could keep there eyes on her because the brightness and heat alone burned their eyes right from their sockets. But to those few who could look where she dashed could see that on that blazing face was swirling eyes. Hunting for something, looking deeper and easier then anyone else for spot of black on their souls. A small chance that maybe they could be saved by the blinding piece of light that shot from the fingers of the hawk in the sky, of that chocolate haired blood streaked beauty. So much like her sister, and so not at the same time.

And if they couldn't be saved? They were thrown into the path of that invisible shredding force that ripped people in two before they could even catch their next breath. Those invisible hands with the strength of a thousand men.

Other things fought back, not as new and strange and powerful but more. The sheer number against them was frightening. It seemed the more they cut down, the more crawled up over that hill.

Lightning hit the earth, breaking a piece of that unending line into shards. The Raven's eyes fell on soldiers and where he looked souls fell. The Taken using that terrible gift to take the life from their bodies with a single look. Humane, so much more gentle then his brother of the dark.

The Given.

So deceiving their titles were. The Taken, The Given, The Merge. Sure The Raven was brutal in many ways, cunning and unstoppable and horridly beautiful but not the worst of his siblings. That youngest brother, the one they didn't like to talk about, was after all a death god. Cursed like the rest of them but perhaps deranged, corrupt. Their father hadn't taken well to that accident from when they were children. But it hadn't been the youngest's fault, no. It had been that middle child, The Given, the most horrible of the three fates.

But it wasn't the middle brother who had gone insane with guilt. Not even when his punishment had been the worst of them all. No. It had been that spoilt youngest child, that child of the present.

And the eldest brother stared across the chaos, killing as he looked, lightning flashing in those grey eyes. His gaze met a pair of icy blues, swirling with that maniacs glint. He searched for that string.