Mythical Guardians

♤7. The Lingering Dream♤

The early, chilly air was tinged with tension. Albeit invisible, everybody felt it, like a taunt thread, stretched to its very limit, and it was only a matter of time until it snapped.

The jagged landscape of Mag'nan Grall spawled into view below the winged soldiers of Heaven, and the skies were tinged with a permanent, depressing shade of grey. The entire place spoke of the desolation of a war long past, which had ravaged the landscape beyond recognition. Anyone would had found it hard to imagine pleasant meadows, azure skies, and glowing rivers and lakes tinged with life, which were long gone, ages ago. Signs of the First Angel Demon War still remained. Shattered weaponry, scorched rocks, broken and jagged mountains, and of course, the unmistakable stench that signified the absence of life.

A loud rumble signified the arrival of the enemy army they were waiting for. Cracks spread from the jagged landscape, and from them, magma and pyroclasts from the fiery realm of Hell flew through the air, as if a volcanic eruption was occuring within the cracks as vents. There was a moment of deadly silence when the dust and the lava finally settled, then that was when the harsh war horn sounded. So harsh, that the armies of Heaven had to cover their ears at such a terrible sound, as if dozens of dying dragons were screeching all at once, that even some of the experienced fighters had trouble keeping themselves from peeing in their pants.

The armies of Hell then burst out of the crevices, the demons snarling as they launched themselves into the air, swarming like thousands of hideous shrieking bees, towards the winged soldiers of Heaven.

He flapped his gigantic silver wings to stay airborne, not showing any fear at all, despite having never seen such a large number of demons in a single battle before. As the captain of the Westwing squadron, he had a job of not allowing his squadron to chicken out. So far, he was doing a good job at that.

The demons were getting closer, their black and brown leathery wings flapping, their glowing yellow eyes unnerving. Their dark, leathery skin made them look extra hideous. From a distance, they looked like thousands of armoured bats, and they only looked worse when they got closer.

Demons, he thought in disdain, what a bunch of filthy vermin.

He heard muttering behind him, as he turned, to see his squadron speaking quietly amongst themselves, but still, not quiet enough not to get heard.

"Who's bailing?" He bellowed

His squadron immediately went silent, too ashamed or too afraid to look at him.

"That's what I thought," he sniffed, almost satisfied with their reaction," If you wanna bail, get the hell out of here. I have no use of cowardy members on my team."

"Azir," the captain of another squadron said, frowning," When are you going to get rid of your goddamn ego?"

"Eh, probably never," he said, then with a confident smirk, he pointed to himself,"Don't forget. My squadron is the one leading the charge. Not yours."

The other captain snorted," Have fun dying then, you idiot."

"Relax," he said," Nobody's taking me out that easily."

"Huh, funny, I remember saving your sorry skin at Hagan."

" And how many times have I saved you?"

Her mouth opened, then closed as she frowned. He remembered exactly how she would act, he had been through this a hundred times.

He looked back at the demons, and raised his silvery white spear," Charge!"

Then it shifted and blurred. He never minded, he knew what had been skipped.

He saw himself fighting the army of demons, his spear almost weightless in his hands as he spun and jabbed at his enemies, shooting bolts of energy out of the butt end, incinerating one demon after the other.