The Tears of Time
Do You Yield?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Professor, I’m afraid I have to keep going,” Elanor said, sad to say goodbye to her last link to humanity.
“May I come with you?” the professor asked, “I’m afraid it’s rather hard to keep track of reality here.”
“Of course,” Elanor nodded.
They set off again, the misty form of the professor travelling behind them, sometimes caught off guard by the wind, which seemed to tug unnaturally at his being. As they drew near the Halls, Elanor laid a hand on the hilt of the sword, its solidarity a comfort.
“Are you sure?” Raphael asked, surveying the metal structure with unease.
“Entirely,” she said sternly, an edge of displeasure in her voice as Raphael questioned her.
They came to a halt roughly 200 metres away, Elanor taking up a wide stance, sword ready in its scabbard. She loosened it slightly, ready to be swept out if need be. The Halls rose ahead of them, piercing the sky with the needle-points of their towers, the rough hewn metal growing like some invasive plant out of the dead ground. Directly in front of them, a huge arch, more of a gap in the metal than a purposeful door, was the only entrance. It rose to the height of three men at the tallest point, the lowest barely the height of one.
There were no windows, for windows provided an escape point. Instead, imposing chimneys rose amongst the towers, spilling the dank hot air from inside into the cold howling wind, leaving a smog of thick condensation and dirty smoke swirling irately around the protruding structures.
“Lucifer!” Elanor cried, her voice resounding throughout the extensive space. Raphael stepped back from her side, leaving her with the stance of a warrior, though ready to step forwards. He stopped the Professor as he floated forwards, shrinking back at the contact of soul against skin.
“Lucifer!” Elanor cried out again; this time a challenge. Her entreaty was answered by rustling movement inside the monumental arch. Lucifer swaggered out of the shadow, his hands in his pockets, a look of utter loathing painted happily across his face.
“Elanor,” he purred, “What an unexpected displeasure. And you bought Raphael too… Or rather, Raphael brought himself, as is often the case.”
“I came to give you warning,” Elanor shouted, her voice echoing unhindered, reaching the further shadows behind Lucifer, the figures of demons listening in, despite themselves.
“A warning, how nice,” Lucifer crowed, “Does it pertain to the end of the world? Or have you just come to tell us off for being naughty?”
“It is about the End,” Elanor replied, “You have one month.”
“I already knew that,” Lucifer called, his tone sneering.
“Of course you did.”
“Of course you did,” he repeated. Elanor caught that similar edge of fear under his voice, and realised that, Lucifer was not who he pretended to be. He was not the devil, the ultimate incarnation of evil. He was simply another lost soul, who tried to cover up his doubts. Just another trick, another beautiful lie to think he sinned out of evil, and not fear. She sighed at the revelation.
“See you then,” Elanor called light-heartedly, turning her back.
“Elanor!” Raphael shouted, his face contorting in sudden panic.
In his fury, Lucifer had lashed out, sending a shockwave of magic pouring through the air towards Ella. Rooted to the spot, Raphael couldn’t move to save her. In a flurry of motion, she swirled, drawing the sword in an arc of metal. The crackle of electricity filled the air, but Ella was braced for the impact, and rather than crashing into her as its intentions where, the blast ricocheted from the blade, exploding in all directions.
Raphael noticed with a dreadful sense of clarity, that Elanor had still intercepted part of the blast. For a moment she sagged, the strength sapped from her limbs. Released from his statuesque stance, Raphael leapt forward to catch her but she shook her head and he moved away, resentment permeating his flesh. He longed to embrace her, take the burden she had long carried, at the same time strangling Lucifer for his actions.
“Bastard,” he muttered under his breath. Elanor heard him and looked up, smiling slightly at his language, though it was a guarded smile. He realised with a shock that Elanor hadn’t smiled properly since last night. Had he done something wrong? He had only ever loved her.
“If you seek to test me Lucifer, you could simply ask,” Elanor called, resting on her sword, its point digging into the ground.
“Then I ask, Elanor,” Lucifer challenged back, his pride beckoning him to fight, “Prove that you are who you claim to be.”
“Certainly,” Elanor replied, throwing up the blade and catching it by the hilt before it could fall.
“Elanor, is this wise?” Raphael asked.
“I knew he would need persuasion,” Elanor answered, and gave him a long, hard look. Eyes locked for a brief second, and Raphael stared as the lovely deep brown was dispelled, dark veins creeping out like a disease from the iris.
“I-,” Raphael began, but she had already launched herself into the air, golden wings exploding in a flurry of motion. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to banish the dread that those black eyes instilled in him. They belonged to a different creature, he realised, the painful resentment crawling through him again.
Lucifer glared as Elanor accepted his challenge, weighing up the odds as he stayed where he was. She hovered, metres away in the air, emitting a radiance that just increased Lucifer’s hatred. He growled in displeasure.
“Sir?” Jezabel asked from behind him, “Is this wise?”
“Definitely not,” he replied, then laughed harshly at Elanor’s manipulation of his competitive nature.
She had known.
He rolled his shoulders briefly, then kicked off the ground, propelling himself into the air. An explosion of black flew out of his shoulder blades, two powerful wings pounding the tense air in anticipation. Two fistfuls of air materialised into twin blades which he drew with precision into a fighting stance.
“Ready?” Elanor asked, smiling darkly.
“Oh yes,” Lucifer coaxed, an answering crooked smile spreading across his face.
“Good.”
Silence reigned as each weighed up the other, neither moving. The air felt tight, the close sensation of humidity before a tropical storm hits in a wall of solid rain. The howling wind seemed to sense the pressure and lulled momentarily.
With a whip crack the wind returned, and Lucifer moved.
Blades shrieking through the air, he threw an attack at Elanor, the metal whistling through the empty air. But empty air was all they found. Within seconds of the attack landing, Elanor dodged, fluidly slipping through the air without mishap. Lucifer growled, swinging around to match her movement, but again she dodged, the space empty before he had a chance to even touch a hair. Frustrated, he launched a series of attacks, swiping the air in increasingly intense movements, but each time Elanor seemed to anticipate, leaving the space seconds before he struck. Lucifer let out a growl of rage, deadly low.
“Face me-”
“Like a man?” Elanor cut in, smirking, “In case you hadn’t noticed…”
“Bitch.”
“Bastard,” Elanor chimed, hefting her sword to a ready stance. Lucifer only narrowed his eyes, testing his blades by circling them through the air.
They began again.
Elanor still moved fluidly, but she didn’t dodge. Instead she parried, her own blade catching both or just one, twisting lithely out of the way of the other. At first Lucifer slowed, testing her abilities carefully with a strike her, a strike there, moving continuously to test her reflexes. Testing soon became redundant; she was clearly an expert, though where the knowledge stemmed from he didn’t know.
With a shock, Lucifer realised that Elanor had not merely parried, but sent a returning blow. He blocked instinctively. He glared at her, but she only smiled back, infuriating him into a flurry of blows which let his guard down momentarily. In a flash, Elanor slipped in, knocking both blades out of his grip and placing the blade at his throat with ease.
“Do you yield?” she asked, drawing a gasp from the silent crowd below.
“Never,” Lucifer spat.
He threw his hands out, the blades leaping through the air towards him. He grasped both hilts and threw her blade aside. Frustration poured through him, and he threw himself into the fight once more.
Elanor parried swiftly, letting him lead the attack, merely ready to defend when needed. The clatter of the battle rang out throughout the plain, drawing further crowds through the arch, pouring demons out onto the dusty ground in front of the Halls. Lucifer ignored them, the fight notching up in speed, their movements becoming a blur to those watching. Still Elanor never let down her defense, pirouetting away from his attacks as if his attacks were already written down, choreographed to the last detail.
They broke away, Lucifer’s breathing ragged. Elanor looked hardly out of breath, her complexion smooth and settled, no risen blood pulsing through her veins.
“One free hit,” she whispered, challenging him softly. She spread her arms wide, sword hanging loosely to one side. Enraged by her manner, Lucifer swung both blades together at her, only to be stopped moments before he hit.
“One free hit,” she repeated, pushing one blade away. He hovered momentarily, before throwing away the left blade. Elanor smiled, and beckoned him to attack.
Lucifer halted, wondering briefly whether this was what she wanted. He angled his blade, so that, now only a metre away, it pressed against the fabric of her tunic, tracing the flesh of her chest, inches away from the heart. He glared at her.
“Do you yield?” he asked, repeating her earlier sentiment.
“Never,” she whispered, her eyes widening in strange delight that frightened Lucifer. With a sudden movement, she stepped forward in the air, pulling his blade into her chest, dragging it into her flesh, right up to the hilt.
“Elanor!” Raphael screamed, voice harsh in panic and dread. Elanor’s face only hardened at his reaction.
Lucifer, horrified, stepped back. Elanor grinned, drawing the blade out of her chest, bright blood gleaming on the metal. She threw the blade away, taking a bow in mid-air, as the blood blossomed from her chest, a red carnation against the soft cream fabric.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Professor, I’m afraid I have to keep going,” Elanor said, sad to say goodbye to her last link to humanity.
“May I come with you?” the professor asked, “I’m afraid it’s rather hard to keep track of reality here.”
“Of course,” Elanor nodded.
They set off again, the misty form of the professor travelling behind them, sometimes caught off guard by the wind, which seemed to tug unnaturally at his being. As they drew near the Halls, Elanor laid a hand on the hilt of the sword, its solidarity a comfort.
“Are you sure?” Raphael asked, surveying the metal structure with unease.
“Entirely,” she said sternly, an edge of displeasure in her voice as Raphael questioned her.
They came to a halt roughly 200 metres away, Elanor taking up a wide stance, sword ready in its scabbard. She loosened it slightly, ready to be swept out if need be. The Halls rose ahead of them, piercing the sky with the needle-points of their towers, the rough hewn metal growing like some invasive plant out of the dead ground. Directly in front of them, a huge arch, more of a gap in the metal than a purposeful door, was the only entrance. It rose to the height of three men at the tallest point, the lowest barely the height of one.
There were no windows, for windows provided an escape point. Instead, imposing chimneys rose amongst the towers, spilling the dank hot air from inside into the cold howling wind, leaving a smog of thick condensation and dirty smoke swirling irately around the protruding structures.
“Lucifer!” Elanor cried, her voice resounding throughout the extensive space. Raphael stepped back from her side, leaving her with the stance of a warrior, though ready to step forwards. He stopped the Professor as he floated forwards, shrinking back at the contact of soul against skin.
“Lucifer!” Elanor cried out again; this time a challenge. Her entreaty was answered by rustling movement inside the monumental arch. Lucifer swaggered out of the shadow, his hands in his pockets, a look of utter loathing painted happily across his face.
“Elanor,” he purred, “What an unexpected displeasure. And you bought Raphael too… Or rather, Raphael brought himself, as is often the case.”
“I came to give you warning,” Elanor shouted, her voice echoing unhindered, reaching the further shadows behind Lucifer, the figures of demons listening in, despite themselves.
“A warning, how nice,” Lucifer crowed, “Does it pertain to the end of the world? Or have you just come to tell us off for being naughty?”
“It is about the End,” Elanor replied, “You have one month.”
“I already knew that,” Lucifer called, his tone sneering.
“Of course you did.”
“Of course you did,” he repeated. Elanor caught that similar edge of fear under his voice, and realised that, Lucifer was not who he pretended to be. He was not the devil, the ultimate incarnation of evil. He was simply another lost soul, who tried to cover up his doubts. Just another trick, another beautiful lie to think he sinned out of evil, and not fear. She sighed at the revelation.
“See you then,” Elanor called light-heartedly, turning her back.
“Elanor!” Raphael shouted, his face contorting in sudden panic.
In his fury, Lucifer had lashed out, sending a shockwave of magic pouring through the air towards Ella. Rooted to the spot, Raphael couldn’t move to save her. In a flurry of motion, she swirled, drawing the sword in an arc of metal. The crackle of electricity filled the air, but Ella was braced for the impact, and rather than crashing into her as its intentions where, the blast ricocheted from the blade, exploding in all directions.
Raphael noticed with a dreadful sense of clarity, that Elanor had still intercepted part of the blast. For a moment she sagged, the strength sapped from her limbs. Released from his statuesque stance, Raphael leapt forward to catch her but she shook her head and he moved away, resentment permeating his flesh. He longed to embrace her, take the burden she had long carried, at the same time strangling Lucifer for his actions.
“Bastard,” he muttered under his breath. Elanor heard him and looked up, smiling slightly at his language, though it was a guarded smile. He realised with a shock that Elanor hadn’t smiled properly since last night. Had he done something wrong? He had only ever loved her.
“If you seek to test me Lucifer, you could simply ask,” Elanor called, resting on her sword, its point digging into the ground.
“Then I ask, Elanor,” Lucifer challenged back, his pride beckoning him to fight, “Prove that you are who you claim to be.”
“Certainly,” Elanor replied, throwing up the blade and catching it by the hilt before it could fall.
“Elanor, is this wise?” Raphael asked.
“I knew he would need persuasion,” Elanor answered, and gave him a long, hard look. Eyes locked for a brief second, and Raphael stared as the lovely deep brown was dispelled, dark veins creeping out like a disease from the iris.
“I-,” Raphael began, but she had already launched herself into the air, golden wings exploding in a flurry of motion. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to banish the dread that those black eyes instilled in him. They belonged to a different creature, he realised, the painful resentment crawling through him again.
Lucifer glared as Elanor accepted his challenge, weighing up the odds as he stayed where he was. She hovered, metres away in the air, emitting a radiance that just increased Lucifer’s hatred. He growled in displeasure.
“Sir?” Jezabel asked from behind him, “Is this wise?”
“Definitely not,” he replied, then laughed harshly at Elanor’s manipulation of his competitive nature.
She had known.
He rolled his shoulders briefly, then kicked off the ground, propelling himself into the air. An explosion of black flew out of his shoulder blades, two powerful wings pounding the tense air in anticipation. Two fistfuls of air materialised into twin blades which he drew with precision into a fighting stance.
“Ready?” Elanor asked, smiling darkly.
“Oh yes,” Lucifer coaxed, an answering crooked smile spreading across his face.
“Good.”
Silence reigned as each weighed up the other, neither moving. The air felt tight, the close sensation of humidity before a tropical storm hits in a wall of solid rain. The howling wind seemed to sense the pressure and lulled momentarily.
With a whip crack the wind returned, and Lucifer moved.
Blades shrieking through the air, he threw an attack at Elanor, the metal whistling through the empty air. But empty air was all they found. Within seconds of the attack landing, Elanor dodged, fluidly slipping through the air without mishap. Lucifer growled, swinging around to match her movement, but again she dodged, the space empty before he had a chance to even touch a hair. Frustrated, he launched a series of attacks, swiping the air in increasingly intense movements, but each time Elanor seemed to anticipate, leaving the space seconds before he struck. Lucifer let out a growl of rage, deadly low.
“Face me-”
“Like a man?” Elanor cut in, smirking, “In case you hadn’t noticed…”
“Bitch.”
“Bastard,” Elanor chimed, hefting her sword to a ready stance. Lucifer only narrowed his eyes, testing his blades by circling them through the air.
They began again.
Elanor still moved fluidly, but she didn’t dodge. Instead she parried, her own blade catching both or just one, twisting lithely out of the way of the other. At first Lucifer slowed, testing her abilities carefully with a strike her, a strike there, moving continuously to test her reflexes. Testing soon became redundant; she was clearly an expert, though where the knowledge stemmed from he didn’t know.
With a shock, Lucifer realised that Elanor had not merely parried, but sent a returning blow. He blocked instinctively. He glared at her, but she only smiled back, infuriating him into a flurry of blows which let his guard down momentarily. In a flash, Elanor slipped in, knocking both blades out of his grip and placing the blade at his throat with ease.
“Do you yield?” she asked, drawing a gasp from the silent crowd below.
“Never,” Lucifer spat.
He threw his hands out, the blades leaping through the air towards him. He grasped both hilts and threw her blade aside. Frustration poured through him, and he threw himself into the fight once more.
Elanor parried swiftly, letting him lead the attack, merely ready to defend when needed. The clatter of the battle rang out throughout the plain, drawing further crowds through the arch, pouring demons out onto the dusty ground in front of the Halls. Lucifer ignored them, the fight notching up in speed, their movements becoming a blur to those watching. Still Elanor never let down her defense, pirouetting away from his attacks as if his attacks were already written down, choreographed to the last detail.
They broke away, Lucifer’s breathing ragged. Elanor looked hardly out of breath, her complexion smooth and settled, no risen blood pulsing through her veins.
“One free hit,” she whispered, challenging him softly. She spread her arms wide, sword hanging loosely to one side. Enraged by her manner, Lucifer swung both blades together at her, only to be stopped moments before he hit.
“One free hit,” she repeated, pushing one blade away. He hovered momentarily, before throwing away the left blade. Elanor smiled, and beckoned him to attack.
Lucifer halted, wondering briefly whether this was what she wanted. He angled his blade, so that, now only a metre away, it pressed against the fabric of her tunic, tracing the flesh of her chest, inches away from the heart. He glared at her.
“Do you yield?” he asked, repeating her earlier sentiment.
“Never,” she whispered, her eyes widening in strange delight that frightened Lucifer. With a sudden movement, she stepped forward in the air, pulling his blade into her chest, dragging it into her flesh, right up to the hilt.
“Elanor!” Raphael screamed, voice harsh in panic and dread. Elanor’s face only hardened at his reaction.
Lucifer, horrified, stepped back. Elanor grinned, drawing the blade out of her chest, bright blood gleaming on the metal. She threw the blade away, taking a bow in mid-air, as the blood blossomed from her chest, a red carnation against the soft cream fabric.
♠ ♠ ♠
I have another subscriber! =DIvy, xXGreyWingsXx (c) 2008