Sacrifice and Result (Open to Midnight + Sundavar)

Seth, Eremial and Sumi appeared amidst inquisitors going about their business and tasks with their charge still over Seth’s shoulder. Eremial and Sumi left to report what had happened to their relevant unit leaders, as those taken were a mixture from several units and all had been mortal save for himself and Eremial. The inquisitors who saw them return seem surprised that only those three had returned, naturally they would wonder what had happened to the others and the guilt immediately cut Seth deep. He carried Sundavar into the tower, ignoring her obvious attempts to goad with jokes, he was in no mood right now to deal with them.

“You’ll be safe here, I’ll unbind your hands and feet once we reach my father’s office.” He told her, but didn’t reply to any questions she might have or responses, there was doubt festering in him now.

Once they reached the top of the tower, he undid the power holding her wrists and ankles before placing her down on her feet again, a moment later and like a force of magnetism the daggers and knives on her person seemed to rush toward Seth’s hands. He caught them, looking at her seriously as though he was trying to gauge her, trying to figure out why eight inquisitors had died to bring her here. But he couldn’t see it, it was the first time he had ever doubted his father in any way, but he had his orders and for now he would keep to them.

“Wait here,” he said, his tone seeming light and trying to be friendly. “My father will be with you shortly.”

With that he turned and left, just leaving her alone in the room like it was nothing. Of course, she might think that to be stupid, neglectful even to leave a thief in a room filled with artifacts that looked both expensive and mysterious. At this point the office was lined with bookcases full of old, weathered tomes and the walls had weapons mounted on them of different sorts, mostly of east asian origin but there were some longswords, and a few bows and even one that looked like a roman legionary sword. All of them were finely crafted and looked expensive too, like they were made for a prince, which they were.

There is something decidedly wrong with events when you find yourself becoming used to being slung over other people's shoulders. A groan escaped her when she found herself being carried again, and her first complaint was that she was "perfectly capable of walking on my own bloody legs you know." As before though, she found herself simply accepting the situation. After all, it was completely out of her hands now. Still, that didn't stop her from making the odd jibe at the person carrying her, not that there was much effect. She quickly decided that this particular individual had no sense of humour. Or perhaps it was just his was slightly less warped than hers. Even she wouldn't fully admit it was a defense mechanism on her part.

Rather irritated at her questions being ignored, she was noticeably surprised to have her bindings removed despite his promise. Clearly trust was something of an issue for her. She stood quietly for a moment, rubbing her wrists to get the feeling back into her hands while searching her captor/rescuer for any clue as to who he might be. The silence was short lived though, as she couldn't stop a muttered curse as all of her weapons seemed to spontaneously jump off of her, some of the more hidden ones probably being teleported out of her clothing. "Oh what, you don't trust me? I'm not a moron, like I could do a fucking thing to you with those." The bitterness in her voice was obvious, despite knowing they were useless she felt naked without her weapons.

He surprised her again when he simply left. For several moments she simply stood there, expecting guards to enter, some sort of trap to spring, or even for it to be some sort of test. But no, she could hear his footsteps moving away. When she was finally sure he was gone, she let out a deep sigh and slumped forward a little, placing a hand on a nearby chair to lean on. She was scared, hell, she was fucking terrified, but she had long since learned to hide such emotions from the world. She was grateful to be left alone for a moment, it gave her the time she needed to gather her thoughts.

After a short pause, she turned her attention to the room itself and it's contents. Perhaps she would be able to learn something about her current situation from them...yup, that was it, not a drop of 'professional curiosity' over such obviously valuable items. She examined a shelf of one of the bookcases, fingers trailing over spines of books she had never heard of. She found herself drawn to a particularly exotic looking blade, one completely unfamiliar to her, and slowly reached out to touch it, for a brief moment oblivous to anything else.

Isaan came up the stairs which led directly into the office, noticing Sundavar with her back to him admiring one of his swords very closely. He crossed his arms for a moment, watching her before coming up behind her in complete silence, and swatting her hand away from the sword all of a sudden as she reached for it. At the same time he moved so that he was stood beside her, so that she could see him properly, and wagged his finger from side to side like he was disciplining an unruly child.

“Bad thief.” He said, making a shooing motion with his hand so that she’d back away from the sword.

Once she had stepped back he walked across the room to his desk, looking briefly at a note on top of it before turning back to her, crossing his arms. He seemed to regard her for a while, those strange purple eyes seeming to glow in the dim candlelight of the room. Once he apparently seemed satisfied, he leaned himself against the very edge of his desk and crossed his legs, half-standing still.

“So, you are Sundavar.” He seemed to be telling her more than he was asking, but he seemed intrigued somehow. “I just spent the lives of eight of my people to bring you here, so you’ll understand if I’m not overly welcoming.”

He pushed over the table and moved toward her, like he might attack but instead his hand went out, offered in greeting. He nodded for her to take it and shake, as though he would be insulted if she didn’t.

“My name is Isaan,” he began, looking into her eyes and then grinning. “You’re lucky to be alive, that creature is a servant of evil that has cut a path of destruction that surprised even the demons - and if bloodshed surprises demons, you know it’s bad. What did he want with you?”

"FUU- uhh...sorry?"
In a weird way it impressed her that he had been able to sneak up on her so easily; It also scared the shit out of her. As surreal as it was to be treated like a misbehaving infant, there was a genuine sense of fear and cautiousness as she backed away from the sword. She was unable to keep her hands still, unconsciously feeling her jacket for the weapons she knew weren't there. She never took her eyes off of him, something in her stance reminiscent of a wild animal backed into a corner. Still though, she fought hard to keep the facade of casualness. And the wince when he used her name was entirely genuine. "Ugh...Sunny, please....I hate that name..."

She felt a sudden pang of guilt when he confirmed the rest of the group that rescued her was dead, then immediately grew pissed off at herself. "Hey, I didn't ask for that!" She flushed a little, realising that arguing with her new captor was probably not the best course of action. "I mean...I'm grateful and all. But I'm not responcible for that..." She winced inwardly. Great. Now she was coming across as insulting and weak.

She almost jumped back when he suddenly came forwards but held her ground, her look slightly defiant. After all, if he wanted her dead, she was pretty much fucked whatever she did at this stage. May as well go out looking tough. It caught her by surprise when he simply offered his hand in greeting, and she hesitated for a moment before reaching for it and returning the gesture.
"Demons huh...you know if you'd told me that a couple of days ago i'd have said you were full of bullshit, but seeing what that guy did..." She shivered involuntarily at the memory of children screaming as she was carried past a burning house. "I don't know what the fuck he wanted with me. He could have killed me, almost did, but then just dumped me down and started asking about some book. I...he wanted me to help him find it I guess. I don't know why." She tried hard not to picture the pile of bodies she'd had to climb over to find him in the library. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake off that feeling of responsibility."I led him to that town..."

She trailed off for a moment then quickly shook her head. She was not getting bogged down in that at a time like this. "I don't get it. Why rescue me? Why did you just sacrifice eight people to get me? The fuck's going on?"

“Yes, you led him to the town.” He replied, pacing the office slowly. “If you hadn’t, the people of the town could be alive. Or, as is more likely, he would have found it anyway being the largest center of population near to where you found him and they would all be dead anyway.”

He stopped, looking at her and seemed to sympathize by the look on his face, apparently understanding what she must be going through. The guilt of knowing anyone had died because of your actions was difficult, but an entire town was something else entirely. Of course, of anyone he would empathize now, having just sent eight of his people to their deaths to bring her to him.

“What would you have done to stop him, anyway?” He asked pointedly. “If you had tried you would be dead, as everyone else who stood before him is.”

Isaan seemed to ponder her question for a time, explaining why he had let eight of his people die to bring her to him was difficult. The grandmother of his daughter-in-law was a seer, she had helped him see those whom he would need to complete his task, but you couldn’t just tell someone that and hope they will understand. That wasn’t how a person’s mind worked, at least not in his experience. Well, it had for Corinthius, but then he hadn’t been on the list and he’d put a sword through Isaan’s neck to no avail which sent a fairly clear message.

Before he could answer her, an angry looking Seth burst into the room again, apparently he’d been listening outside. Isaan had known this, but it was unlikely that Sundavar would have noticed. He looked at Sundavar for a moment, then shot a look at Isaan who was apparently his father, though you’d notice the two didn’t look a day apart in terms of age.

“Answer her, father!” He demanded, glaring at Isaan. “Tell her why you let eight inquisitors, people I trained myself, die tonight just to bring this mortal to us. And while you’re at it, you can explain to me and the rest of the people who followed you here too.”

There was a moment of silence as Isaan rose from his chair, regarding Seth with a sharp gaze for a moment.

“Everyone I sent was mortal, I sent them because I knew they would have an afterlife.”

“And that makes it right?!”

“You would prefer I had sent a unit of immortals to face true death?”

“I... no... no I would not prefer that. His power was immense, they would have died and their souls would have been lost.” Seth raised his eyes to his father’s, obvious distraught by tonight’s loss. “But that doesn’t make it okay for you to keep our purpose here a secret, if we’re to die, we want to know what for.”

Silence followed again and Isaan seemed reluctant, but looking into his son’s begging eyes seemed to bring him around, and Isaan gave a nod that said to Seth that he should gather the inquisitors in the courtyard. All of them. Isaan then turned his gaze on Sundavar.

“You can come with me.” He said, then left the office expecting her to follow, heading out to the tower courtyard where the inquisitors would be gathered in their units waiting to be addressed.

Sundavar remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout the exchange, not just because she had no idea what was going on. Immortals? Afterlife? If she was anywhere else, at any other time, she would be questioning their sanity. As it was, she was starting to doubt her own. There was something in their eyes though...a touch of understanding in Isaan's, a sense of loss in his son's, that forced her to begin to accept what was happening. She was a talented enough faker of emotions to know when someone was being entirely genuine.

She blinked a few times as they left the room, suddenly feeling extremely out of place. He wanted her to face a group of people knowing their comrades had just died for her? She swore under her breath, hoping it would be too quiet for the others to hear before reluctantly following. She just hoped these people weren't the sort to hold grudges. She hung behind Isaan as much a she could, her instinct to remain unseen kicking in. She hunched her shoulders, staring at the ground so as not to make eye contact with any of the others outside. Regrettably, her coat could not make her invisible.

The gathered inquisitors only briefly put their gaze on Sundavar, it was true that they wondered as Seth did why eight of their comrades had died to bring her and there was an air of resentment about it, but their gaze quickly turned to Isaan instead as he stepped toward them ensuring that he had the floor. His eyes went over the inquisitors who numbered around ninety from what had begun as around a hundred, the first couple had been lost when Corinthius had invaded the tower to try and kill Isaan. But this second number, they were sent to Makael like a meatshield, allowed to die for the sake of bringing some woman into the fold.

It was too late to keep everything back now, they wanted answers and Isaan had to oblige or else look like a tyrant, rather than the benevolent leader he had set out to be. Comical perhaps, in some eyes, for a god of devil heritage to take the path of benevolence.

“A little over a thousand years ago, the predecessor of our order destroyed a town just like the one that fell today.” He began, pacing slowly and looking pensive as he spoke. “It was a town marked for death, because the smallest inkling of a taint had been found. I partook in that massacre until I found myself faced with a young woman, clutching a newborn child to her like a lifeline.”

He paused, looking around at the faces of his inquisitors, knowing only two people among them would recall that day. The others were not aware of this, it was his first time confessing his sins so to speak.

“I saved the girl and her child by turning on Dragos and his ilk and with High Inquisitor Rainak at my back, we fought his kind until we were stained with their blood to ensure she escaped and slew Dragos.” He could see them all a little more abuzz now, hearing this for the first time. “That midnight, covered in the blood of our fallen comrades who refused to see reason, we formed a new order that on a blood oath would never commit to such massacres without absolute cause, who would not throw away the lives of its people so easily and yet tonight I committed that exact sin.”

There was a sudden and heavy silence, the type that was palpable among the inquisitors, but Isaan did not step back. Seth, who also clearly had not heard this story, lowered his head in silence and briefly snatched a glance toward both Liandri and Rainak, the two he knew would be the ones who recalled the day of which his father spoke.

“So it’s time I told you all, why.” He said quietly, hesitating a moment as he closed his eyes to collect his mind.

“We’re listening, father.” Seth said quietly, and indeed all eyes were on him in utter silence.

“Aurela is the prison of the God of Elements, the first corrupt god, Baelze.” He confessed, looking upon them all. “But it is not just his prison, it is a cell shared by the maker of us all, the Creator.”

That silence again, palpable like before but this time it was one mixed with shock, that this place was such a place. It was a secret only Liandri knew, she had been his only confidant in all these millennia, not even his siblings or his father knew what he sought on Aurela or the truth of the place. They would now of course, there was no way his father did not have people leaking him information amongst the inquisitors, not to say those who did it were not loyal to Midnight but they were devils and so loyal to their emperor too. Isaan would not fault them for it.

“Our universe is broken and lost. War and genocide are not an uncommon thing, many of you know this because you were a victim of such on all of the worlds you come from. Melandrisia, a shining beacon of unity destroyed by the corrupt high god, Mael, and blamed on devils, on my people, my father! Devils and angels killing each other in a cosmic war going on beneath the noses of every mortal, invisible and unnoticed and yet the effects of it seen far and wide. The occasional ‘accidental’ supernova of a sun, or the ‘accidental’ destruction of a supposedly insignificant planet. But what planet is insignificant?!”

He paused, the passion in his voice obvious now, his face twisted in a mixture of rage, sorrow and pleading.

“Then here, a dream world, a world of hollow people, with hollow lives and hollow feelings! Trapped in an eternal game of chess between the Creator and his son, made to embody their eternal war with one another. Do they not deserve freedom?! This woman!” He pointed at Sundavar at last, “deserves freedom! The right to choose a life not held on puppet strings! No god has the right to that! Not the Creator! Not Baelze, not my father, and not Mael!”

He finally took a breath and everyone seemed stunned at the outburst, including Seth who looked at his father with a newfound understanding, and respect. But also a hint of fear, that there was such a passionate and righteous anger bubbling under the surface.

“Long ago I asked myself what manner of god I wished to be.” He continued, his voice solemn. “I came to the decision that no god worth their name would stand idle while people suffered under tyranny, to be treated as puppets or demons’ playthings. All I ask of you is to stand with me as you’ve always done, until our Creator is free and able to bring peace and meaning back to a universe that is lost.”

His eyes finally turned to Sundavar and he rounded on her, staring her down for a moment before he took a few steps toward her, grasping her shoulder to make her step forward to be seen by those gathered.

“Eight of our own died today to bring this woman to us.” He said, releasing her shoulder and turning toward her. “They died because I knew we would need extraordinary people from this world to succeed at our task, their souls will be in my keeping and see paradise.”

He paused again, then gave Sundavar his characteristically impish grin, his hand raising as it had in his office to shake hers.

“I believe there is an extraordinary person hiding inside of you, Sunny.” He said, intentionally emphasizing the shortening of her name. “Will you join us?”

The young woman stood in awed silence throughout his speech, hanging on to every word though much that he spoke of was alien to her. He spoke with a natural charisma that even she envied and there was no doubt that he was a natural leader, but there was more than that; she felt as if something was falling into place. He spoke of gods and other worlds casually, yet to someone who had rarely considered the existence of either his words had a profound impact, as though she had been viewing the universe through a tinted lens and was now being shown it's true colour.

His description of the cruelty of the universe stirred something in her too. She was far from what one would call a noble person but the injustice being spoken of angered her, more than anything that did not directly affect her had before, perhaps because it echoed her memories of the past in some ways. It was an odd experience for someone accustomed to being selfish through necessity, but for the first time in decades she felt ready to fight for this man, this cause without thought of payment.

Still, she hesitated when he turned to her. She could feel the eyes of many of those gathered digging into her like knife points, searching for some evidence of the 'extraordinary person' that was supposedly about to jump out. It was intimidating now that she knew the truth, that she was standing in the presence of immortal beings who could probably all kill her with a thought. So, she fell back on old tactics and did what she always did in situations like this; bullshit confidence and hope people would accept it. She recovered her nonchalant stance and grinned right back at Isaan, shaking his hand. "Sure" She turned and glanced at the assembled Inquisitors, the grin turning to a mischievous smirk "Gods know you need someone with some smarts around here, right?"

It was only a few hours later, shortly after nightfall. What seemed like storm clouds began to gather around the surrounding area, turning grim and mighty flashes lighting up the night sky. But the brightest fork of lightning seemed to strike near the very base of the tower, causing the ground to shake a little. A few members of the night watch noticed a silhouette walking out of the explosion itself, a smoking crater just behind it.

The girl is here Makael, but be cautious... I sense great powers ahead.

The incident of course warranted investigation, with four Inquisitors making their way down to the crater to check for damage. As they reached the base of the towers defenses however, they encountered Makael, whom was in no mood for chitchat. Giving them no time to talk or react, he brought his sword to bear, skewering one of them before he could even draw his weapon. The remaining three pulled together in a defensive formation, backing up slowly.

"SOUND THE ALARM! INTRUDER AT THE TOWE-"

His words were cut short as Makael's sword pierced his throat, his lifeblood pouring onto his fellow inquisitors like flowing water. He slowly fell to his knees, clutching his throat with gurgling noises as his life ended. The remaining two attacked together, one getting behind him and thrusting his sword clean through Makael's back, causing Makael to make a light noise for a moment, before merely chuckling and whirling his blade in a circle, slicing the Inquisitor in the gut, spilling his intestines to the floor. The dying Inquisitor fell, in agony, as his surviving comrade made desperate defensive attacks to keep himself alive.

"Impressive! They really drill bravery into you!"

The remaining one was doomed, as Makael was in a hurry. Raising his blade at his foe, he let forth a blast of dark energy, ripping a hole right through his gut, leaving the horrified Inquisitor to crumple to the floor, grasping at his wound as he slowly died in agony.

Steel yourself, Makael. The greatest test lies just ahead... be ready.

Makael nodded to himself, resting his blood-soaked sword over his shoulder, stepping over the corpses as he made his way up toward the tower. His armor also coated in blood, and still impaled with the Inquisitors blade.

“Oh, I love the cocky ones.” Seth said, his attitude lighter now that he fully understood the stakes and why certain steps had to be taken. “They get eaten by hellhounds in the first week of training.”

Isaan laughed and took his hand back from Sundavar, about to send the inquisitors back to what they had been doing before, but then he was struck by the loss of four more of their number. All of the immortals among them had felt it, which was why the mortal inquisitors had tensed all of a sudden seeing their immortal comrades all turning their heads or some just their eyes in the direction of the disturbance. Seth sprang into action first and stepped forward to address the gathered inquisitors, though he felt the one approaching foolish to come here, where three gods and countless immortals waited.

“Defensive formation!” He ordered, his voice cutting through the sudden silence like a knife. “This is the one who killed our comrades tonight.”

“No.” Isaan stepped forward and walked down the steps of the tower, clearly heading toward the disturbance.

“Father?”

“It’s my fault they died, after all. Do not engage, I’m going to have words with our guest.”

Before he could protest, Isaan raised his hand to silence him and kept walking. But he need not have bothered because storm clouds were gathering above, blackening the sky as lightning forked across it and thunder boomed through the mountain passes. But unlike a normal storm, no rain came, the silent anger of Isaan was literally moving the skies above, making them churn with him. As he went his attire changed from the casual maroon shirt and black trousers he wore to the uniform of a high ranking Underworld official, his katana sheathed with it and the red talon emblem of Midnight emblazoned at the bottoms of the jacket’s front.

He came to a halt a short distance into the courtyard, still within view and earshot of the gathered inquisitors, where he would await Makael’s arrival patiently. The skies above continued to churn and swirl, lightning flashing and thunder shortly following to indicate this storm was right above them, not a distance away by any regard. When Makael arrived, Isaan raised a hand as if giving a greeting, his purple eyes locked calmly on the man. But of course, it as when Isaan was calmest and not cracking wise, or poking fun that you knew he was at his most dangerous.

“It’s about time we met,” he said, his left hand coming to rest on the hilt of his katana, pushing it forward which indicated that the blade was ready to be drawn. “I’ve heard of your handy work, Revia in particular was quite the massacre.”

He was prepared to release his god seal for this battle, knowing that he would probably require it, but for now it remained dormant. He stared Makael down, he’d wait for the man to make the first move, Isaan preferred to be on the back foot.

Outfit: https://i.imgur.com/GHldtck.jpg The yellow crests at the bottom are exchanged for the Midnight crest.

Makael's entrance was slow and quiet, not even looking around him as he entered the courtyard, eyes fixed on Isaan, whom stood in his way. The storm continued around them, the wind whistling and causing his cloak to flap wildly. He paused a short distance from Isaan, pulling a cigar from his pouch and lighting it with a black flame from his finger. The smoke from his first few puffs were quickly swept up and taken away by the wind.

This one radiates power... do not underestimate him.

He took a few short drags from his cigar, before finally speaking, his eyes glowing bright red. His tone was cold, his words harsh to mortal ears. "I have come for the girl. You are in my way."

The mans intention was clear. His stance, his attitude, his pose. He wanted Makael to make the first move. The advantage of taking the first blow. It was amusing to see all his Inquisitors standing around, watching, like it was some kind of show. It was unwise to stand near him, even if you did not intend battle. He slowly lifted his sword in front of him, holding it out as dark energies danced around the blade.

He wishes for you to make the first move Makael. Oblige him.

The energy around his blade focused into a bolt, which Makael targeted at a by-standing Inquisitor, cackling before unleashing the full blast in his direction. The Inquisitor was hit by the full force, vaporized almost instantly. He began to laugh loudly, his sword unleashing multiple, weaker shots, likely only wounding attacks rather than killing blows, indiscriminately into the now likely angered Inquisitors.

Makael was clearly without a care, seeking only to find glory in battle.

Isaan wouldn’t be tricked into turning his attention to the inquisitors behind him, but there was a definite twitch from his eye when he felt another life extinguished, followed by several more injured before Seth raised his hands and formed an invisible shield around them. He was a god too, even if he wasn’t going to fight Makael, he would protect the other inquisitors from him. Inside the invisible bubble, the inquisitors who were standing rushed to get the injured into the tower, while Seth stood with his hands raised holding the shield in place, his blue and red eye glowing brightly to indicate the channelling of power.

Now that they were safe, Isaan could exact extreme retribution without fearing for the lives of his people in the process. His right hand reached for the hilt of his katana, gripping firmly as he drew the blade from its scabbard, his left hand gripping the scabbard in a ceremonial manner. That was it, the instant the blade was drawn all chaos broke loose around them, the ground itself began to shake violently and the skies above roared with thunder as though legions of dragons waged battle above. The sealed three quarters of his power struck Isaan like a torrent, spilling into the mortal realm around him in the form of short electrical bursts that sparked from his person on occasion.

“Byakko,” he said, his voice having turned deep and unnatural. “It’s time we taught the one pulling this marionette's strings what happens to those who start a war with Midnight.”

As if stirred by the words, the lightning above them began to strike the ground around Makael, in fact it seemed more like it was directly at Makael specifically as the roar of what sounded like some kind of large beast commanded it to strike at its master’s enemy. At the same instant Isaan struck, his movements so fast that he left an image of himself behind, each time he stopped to strike Makael to cut away another limb, another image of Isaan was left behind in mid-strike pose until the real Isaan came to a halt behind Makael, leaving his limbs to fall from his body. Of course, it would do no good, the dark power that held Makael would pull his limbs back to him as though he had not been struck.

“Interesting.” Isaan said, turning to face Makael and swinging his katana so the blood was splattered across the ground, not wanting it to be fouled by the blood of his enemy.

"Ahhahaha, good one...did he say hellhounds?"

It is a thoroughly unpleasant and disconcerting sensation to find yourself wishing desperately for any sort of distraction, and then to Immediately be presented with a very unpleasant one. Sunny found herself wishing desperately that something, anything would happen that would allow her to slip away from the increasingly uncomfortable attention being paid to her, and then quickly felt a cold chill settle over her when she realised how distracted many of the Inquisitors seemed, including those two standing nearest her.

For some several moments she simply stood awkwardly, having no idea what to do in this situation. Her instinct was to run, but wasn't she part of this group now? Didn't they usually have rules against that sort of thing? Her indecision was short lived though, as the chill quickly turned to dread when she realised just who was coming. She found herself backing up agianst the wall of the tower, shaking her head a little. "Are you fucking kidding me? I have a fucking immortal stalker?!"

She stood frozen for several moments, trying to make sense of the situation, before finally deciding that she needed to see this. She began to descend the steps, intending to push her way to the front of the inquisitors to see for herself the man who seemed intent on hunting her down. A plan that was quickly cast aside when he started vaporising the nearest observers.

The next she knew she was hunched in a windowsill a few floors up the tower, not near the top but high enough to afford a good view of the battlefield. Scrambling up the stonework hadn't really registered in her mind and she found herself oddly disorientated, her raw nerves having forced a fight or flight in her. Perhaps it was just as well though, as form her vantage point she was able to see every blow in the battle, and finally began to grasp exactly what she had become involved in.

A soft whisper escaped her lips as she watched; "...Holy shit...."

It was a shame the other Inquisitors had escaped the safety, but at least they were out of the way now.

Makael was barely even irritated by the attacks on his limbs, the dark powers that bind him preventing any permanent harm. He was quick to counter attack, swinging his blade fast, in a wide arc, but was disappointed as his attacks missed completely. It was as if he was fighting a blur as he struck, his foe far too fast for simple swinging attacks. He resorted to firing energy blasts at the ground, blasting craters into the courtyard as his foe continued to dodge with absolute ease.

Though at the same time with each attack from his foe, another body part would come loose, only to be fully healed mere seconds later. Makael was already sensing this battle was perhaps pointless, but his masters desire drove him on. He continued his attacks, futile though they be, the ground around him stained with his seemingly endless flow of blood.

Above them, the sky churned and raged, as if two powers fought for control of the sky, the lightning arcing and even colliding with itself, some bolts striking the ground around them and around the tower. The wind intensified, their hair and clothes flapping wildly. With no fear of death, Makael's attacks became fiercer, striking hard, causing massive damage to the ground with every miss.

It just went on and on...

Isaan moved with speed unnatural even for an immortal, each time Makael tried to strike him he was gone by the time the blade struck, leaving a likely frustrated Makael to see the image left behind blur and dissipate into the air. Each time Makael swung and failed to strike Isaan, his limbs would once again be cut from his body, only to be dragged back by the dark will that held his strings. Both combatants knew by now that the fight was futile, Makael had no hope of landing a blow on Isaan, while Isaan who could land as many blows on Makael as he wanted was faced with an opponent who simply reformed an instant later.

Overhead the thunder rumbled violently and the winds picked up again, but the winds seemed to be coming in opposite directly and colliding with one another much as the bolts of lightning did, the battle of spirits waging overheard as fierce and uncontrollable as the one on the ground. The ferocity of Makael’s attacks seem to coincide with the fierceness of the easterly wind, while Isaan’s every avoidance and stroke back coincided with the fierceness of the westerly wind, to the point that at this point the collision had started to form a twister in the sky far above that was quickly expanding.

Seth kept the barrier strong, but if the fight continued he would need to release the power of his god seal to keep the inquisitors and the tower itself safe as the powers swirling around them battered at his barrier violently. Inside the wounded were being seen to, while those who weren’t needed to aid them stood outside observing, the immortals among them seemed antsy especially the devils who were watching one of their princes fight alone. But Seth kept telling them to remain still and they weren’t inclined to argue, they knew anyone who left the barrier save for Seth himself and Altieran would likely be sucked up into the vacuum of the twister and torn apart by the powers raging out there.

After a particularly fierce assault that ripped part of the ground from the cliffside and saw it fall like a rock slide to the paths blow, Isaan moved with his unnatural speed and threw a kick square into the chest of Makael. The force of the blow would sent Makael flying into the natural mountain wall that the tower nestled beside, only for Isaan to stop then with his katana held at his side watching Makael intently. This entire fight was useless, neither of them could win and they were only destroying the mountain and the grounds around the tower, at this rate they’d be drawing attention to themselves not just from the humans to the south but the noth to the north.

“This is pointless!” Isaan demanded, but kept his weapon in hand knowing that reasoning with those tainted was difficult at best. “We can keep fighting to a stalemate, but in the end neither will win. There are two more of similar strength to me in the tower and I can call others, retreat, or this will not end.”

He is correct Makael. This fight would be without end. We can always find another guide... No matter, it is advantageous to know the pieces on the board. Withdraw, and find another settlement to search. We shall tear this planet apart until the tome is mine.

Makael clearly had no desire to halt his attack, though his masters words stayed his hand. Sheathing his sword, he smirked at Isaan, impressed with prowess on the battlefield. "Most impressive. It seems I will meet a fair challenge on this world after all. We shall fight again, speedy one. Farewell."

Almost at once he turned his back on the tower, walking away slowly, knowing full well none would dare block his exit. The storm was finally abating, the spirits calming post-battle. He chuckled a little to himself as he left, finally glad that it wouldn't just be more lambs to the slaughter, like Revia or that first planet he was on, whatever it was called... no matter. Thinking of such things made his head hurt. His emotions were clouded as well. Trying to think of anything other than the negative was also met with the same pain.

Makael, why do you think of such things? It is unnecessary, and detrimental to our task. I promise you, complete the task I have set, and I shall help you to recover your memories.

Behind him, Makael had left quite a scene. The courtyard was coated in blast craters and scorches from lightning strikes, as well as some minor damage to the towers entrance from his wild, random energy blasts. Twelve Inquisitors now also lay dead in the past day due to his merciless nature.

Sundavar had hardly moved a muscle since climbing the tower, barely even remembering to breath. Her right hand pressed against the tower wall to balance her while her left clutched at a pendant she wore around her neck in a scared gesture she had not made in decades. Now that the fight was over she found herself pressed int the alcolove of the window, as tough hoping she might pass into the stone and be protected.

What she had just witnessed struck her on a primal level. It was one thing to see people die and see magic tossed around in combat. Even watching Makael's butchery hadn't struck her quite as much as seeing the earth and sky themselves wage war from the sheer force of the combatant's wills. It was finally beginning to sink in that she was dealing with gods here. Real gods, not the imaginary friends people begged to help them in their day to day lives. Suddenly the hellhounds Seth had mentioned seemed almost inviting.

For the moment, she simply crouched in the shadow of the tower, using the brief moment of silence to try and process all she had experienced that day. Doubtless Isaan or Seth or some other inquisitor would come find her before long, drag her off and train her in military drill or toss her in the hound pit or something, but she would deal with that when the time came. Right now she had to process the fact that a total of 24 men and woman, mortal and immortal, were now dead because an all-powerful psychopath had taken a liking to her.