Chapter 12

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150 AD

Four riders rode across the beautiful lands that stretched over Brittania, they each were in perfect sync moving almost as one. The riders differed in looks, three male, one female, each as beautiful as the last and yet different in many ways.

As they rode they laughed together, a bond between the four that no other could ever understand. Then almost as one they pulled their horses up staring ahead where four figures stood.

Like complete opposites were these four, three women and one man, .. Watching, waiting, swords drawn.. The four riders dismounted and the eldest stepped forward "We have no quarrel with you.. Stand aside and we will be on our way, stay and we will kill you."

The other four spoke in a language that confused the riders though the female thought it might be an assyrian tongue. Then as one they attacked, the ferocity of these four were unmatched by the vigor of the riders. And before the riders could even understand what was happening they were all stabbed through the chest.

The only male stepped forward kneeling next to the female rider "They have much to learn, and this one does not understand that she was born to be leader."

"We will teach them brother." One of the females said laying her hand on his shoulder, with that they threw the four onto their horses and rode away.

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Present day- Iraq

Two men entered a tomb approaching a large statue of a bird

"I can feel him." One of the men muttered the other man who was filming everything frowned "That's what we've come for? That stone chicken?"

"He knows we're here." The original man said quietly his eyes searching the room hand going to his wrist where a small tattoo of an archangel sat.

His companion rolled his eyes while kneeling to get a better shot "Well, I hope he's made lunch, because I'm bloody hungry."

"You fool, Foster. You make jokes when the fate of the world is at stake!" The first man snapped at his friends Foster who shook his head "Better a fool than a lunatic. The only thing we've got to be afraid of around here is the damned Iraqi army." He stood and looked down a side cavern. "Hey. Would you get a look at that?"

His companion joined him and they walked forward approaching a demonesqe statue on the wall around about were writings "Ugly isn't it?"

"What the hell is that thing?" Foster asked and his companion approached the writings on the wall "You see? Armant. Alope. Ahriman." 

Foster shrugged "If you say so."

"It's him, Foster. It's him. Are you afraid, Foster?" Laughs. "We should all be afraid. The thousand years are up. The demon is coming. And the dead will rise." The old man smiled slightly "but there is hope as long as the guardians remain standing."

Foster shook his head"You've got a vivid imagination, old man. Come on. Get what you want and let's get the hell out of here."

He turned to move away but suddenly the statue began to glow and then in a moment Foster fell to the ground dead a spear in his chest

"Foster! Dear God, Foster." The old man cried kneeling before his companion before glancing in horror to the statue he muttered four words "Guardians... Prepare the chosen!"

In Paris Esther gasped awake and looked around beside her Methos awoke groggily and realized the sheets were soaked with sweat. He searched for his wife only to find her on the floor head between her legs taking deep breaths "Esther?"

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⏰ Última actualización: Jun 06, 2023 ⏰

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