Chapter 13 - Tįlåtħ's Wrath

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48th Day of Ebibi in the Second Month of Sun's Height
2996 A.G.G. (1637 Years Ago, The Last Years of the Ten and Five Year War)

The City of Athel, Edarus
The Continent of Assami

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It should be understood that some of the following passages may not be entirely accurate as they weren't transcribed as they were spoken. They've been translated here for ease of reading. Because of this, unfortunately, some things may be lost in the translation from the original Ångëlįc or Dæmönic to common.

Translated passages will be indicated by the use of bold print.

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Dåÿvįåd

As the earsplitting sound of Låurëntįus' demise drained from the room and the quaking passed, gazed at the remains of his brother's mutilated corpse; lightning flowers making of his body a macabre artwork.

Another dead Ǻngël in a building full of dead Ǻngëlics.

As he died, the saber seemed to almost cry. Whether it was from the satisfaction of taking the Ǻngël's life or something else entirely Dåÿvįåd didn't know.

Kneeling solemnly, Tįlåtħ retrieved a shard of the dead being's wing bones from the ground and lifted it from the bloody mess it lay in; gazing upon it in quiet contemplation.

Dåÿvįåd meanwhile was overcome with emotion. He was, for lack of a better phrase, beside himself with joy and awe at the sight of her. It had been months since he'd seen Tįlåtħ last. Months since they separated to go after their individual quarries. Months since he'd last felt the ethereal power of her gifts made manifest.

He gazed upon her as her Drågonesque wings evanesced to nothingness; pulling some of the air out of the room with them as they vanished. Sending loose papers and small debris flying about her. He watched as she pulled her weapon free of its victim and inspected it before opening her hand and willing it back to the ether with the same disturbance of atmosphere as her wings; to wait in the void until she called it forth to her side again.

Black colour melted back into her hair returning it to its raven state. Her teeth receded. Her eyes shifted from their solid state to the calm, yet vaporous silhouette of a iris. She was so different now. He could feel it in the energies that still blead off of her unseen.

She was so much more than she was before. She was beauty. She was death. Even in her disheveled state. And he welcomed her eagerly into his arms by opening them toward her.

"I was just thinking of you." admitted. "Come dearest." he beckoned in the aggressive Dæmönic tongue. A language which had become more natural to them over time than their native Ångëlįc had once been.

Losing the air of sadness that had surrounded her at the sound of his voice, Tįlåtħ obeyed quickly and pressed herself into him; her face in his shoulder as she stood half a head shorter than he. Reaching up blindly, she lovingly traced his one good horn which hugged the top of his head like a crown.

I've missed you so much.

Dåÿvįåd almost didn't expect to see her at the end of this struggle. She'd been gone far longer than expected and he'd started to fear that he wouldn't see her ever again.

Praise you Lumå'įl! Praise you Så'Ħdënåħ! Thank you for bringing her back to me!

She looked up into his brown eyes and he melted into her gaze almost immediately. Their embrace almost involuntarily melted into a kiss so slow and tinder that you'd have thought that they didn't realize that they were standing in the center of mass murder; their split tongues teasing each other delightfully.

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