Aurion Ch. 04

The Han war party saw the streaking comet fall from the Heavens land with an audible impact a few miles from their current camp. Anxious to lay hands on the priceless star-iron likely contained in it, the Hyena-men immediately set off in it's direction. Their elongated canine-like ankle and clawed feet propelled their furred bodies faster than any man, their elongated snouts full of sharp yellow teeth upturned to sample the scents carried on the wind for danger and prey alike.

A mere ten minutes, later they had covered the nearly three miles to where they had seen the meteor land, their lack of armor or heavy weaponry allowing them to move over the open ground at full speed. Unstrapping the crescent shaped bronze battle axes from their backs, the thirty Han males approached the large crater in the ground as soot and dust still hung heavily in the air. Their silent advance froze as they saw a lone figure standing in the crater's center instead of a meteor but their confusion was short lived.

The figure had black hair, cut short in the timeless military fashion, and blue eyes that literally glowed with power stared out from an indescribably handsome face. His body was almost naked, covered only by a silken wrap around his waist that left his sculpted torso, arms, calves and golden skin exposed. There was what appeared to be a crown on his head in the shape of an olive wreath, though it was constructed of solid gold shaped like leaves that wrapped around the top of his head. A golden chain at the top of his chest secured a full cape of Dragon skin, however it had to have been taken from an impossibly large and powerful specimen as each black scale was the size of a saucer and the Crimson colored skin underneath seemed to move with a will of it's own. Even more shocking though, was the large avian wings protruded from the center of his back, their surface covered with what appeared to be rich black feathers.

Before they could act, the figure raised a single hand as it began to glow with golden light. The forward facing palm of the hand exploded with a painfully bright beam of golden light as concentrated Solar light engulfed them with more than enough heat to vaporize anything it came in contact with. They were dead before they could scream.

Michael dispassionately looked at the ashes that had been living beings a second before as they were carried away and scattered by the soft wind. His rebirth at the hands of his Father had restored all of his immeasurable Power as well as all of his memories. He remembered fleeing Heaven in disgust at the horrendous actions of the humans on Earth that he had so long protected. He remembered containing and isolating his Light into a compartment inside his physical body leaving him as, more or less, a genetically perfect human when he arrived on Aurion-his newly human mind being unable to contain the vast information and memories of millennia meant that he had arrived on this world as an amnesiac as well as a mortal. He remembered the people he met and the Elf he had grown to love as well as the she-Orc that was wholly dedicated to him and the women that he now realized loved him. All of whom no doubt think him dead.

He hadn't been sure that his Father would resurrect him, leaving Heaven meant that he was technically now a Fallen Angel-his newly black wings attested to that. Father had respected his choice though, content to offer a reprieve from the centuries serving as God's right hand. And everyone knows that a right hand is the one that wields the sword-something that his brother Gabriel had never let him forget, though perhaps that was because the sanctimonious prick of an Archangel was referred to as the 'Left hand of God' and often showed jealousy at the fact that Michael had been the one to defeat Lucifer in single combat and slay the primordial Dragon and enforcer of Hell, Satan. Something Gabriel had attempted and failed prior to his success.

He noticed that his previously long hair was now cut in a fashionable version of a short military style and his full body suit of armor was no longer covering his body. Normally he would simply will his armor onto his body, a simple thought all that was necessary to summon armor or weapons from Heaven's armory, but now that he was a Fallen Angel, he was on his own. After all, his wings turning from an bright white to a deep black were not the only changes to take place when an Angel fell from Grace.

His formerly pine green eyes would continue to glow bright blue for awhile yet, at least until his epic power finished settling into his physical being. With a quick push of his legs he shot straight up into air faster than any mortal eye could follow, his powerful wings capable of sending him past the speed of sound with a single thrust. However, instead of heading back to the east and the Dorian Capitol, he headed in the opposite direction. There was still an entire army laying siege to his love's people and the forest that she called home.

At such speed it didn't take long to reach the Elvin Forest on the Empire's western flank. Clearly visit from his airborne position, the dark mass of the Demonic army stained the western edge of the steppe where it met the tree line where the forest started. Using the sun and his speed to prevent being observed, he flew over the forest before circling around and landing in a small clearing less than a mile inside the magical barrier that currently held the enemy at bay and prevented the destruction of the Elves and their forest.

He had intended to make his way to the central treetop village of the Elves to establish contact with them, but as he moved off further into the forest toward the village he heard the tell tale sounds of a fighting back at the tree line and he quickly was off at a sprint, his power carrying him at hundreds of miles per hour. In a matter of seconds he was standing at the tree line watching a small group of Elves attempt to reach the safety of the magical barrier at the tree line. It was obvious that they had attempted to sneak past the enemy army's notice and they might have succeeded if it wasn't for the fact that, despite the enemy army being made up mostly of Hyena-men and Dark Orcs, Demons were also present. The Dark Mages having detected the small party, the Demons were able to to close the great distance to reach them before they could scamper over the carrier to safety because they could fly.

Three Demons had coasted down from the sky leisurely to cut off the small group of Elves. That was bad. Three Demons was massive overkill and their relaxed demeanor meant that they were almost certainly intending to have some fun with the Elven lasses, and maybe a pretty male or two. A lone female Elven Mage was the only thing keeping the three predators at bay, using pulses of Light from the end of her wooden staff. Very impressive. Unfortunately, she was not capable of mustering or channeling enough power to generate lethal blows against Demons, and she was quickly tiring.

The others, mostly women, huddled by the wagon that accompanied them while the few guards they had stood in front of the female Mage as she did her best to hold the Demons off. The Guards were obviously the Household Guard for a Great House, despite their armor being a suit of heavy plate, it was custom fitted and conformed to every contour of their bodies and offered total coverage, even the joints overlapping to eliminate vulnerable junctions.

Since they had cut off the Elves path to the tree line of the forest, the Demons were located directly between Michael and the Elves, which suited him just fine. They didn't even notice when he stepped of out the trees twenty meters to their rear.

"Hey boys! If you're looking for some sport, I'll happily oblige you", said Michael with a smile that seemed more devilish than any Angel should be capable of.

Turning to look at him, to Demons simply smirked at the unusually attractive man, not seeing him for what he was. One of the three licked his lips, the burns on his body from the mage's attack ready starting to heal, and started towards him while the other two turned back and continued towards the beleaguered Elves, the mage panting on her knees, totally exhausted.

Before the Demon could take three steps, Michael's wings unfurled from his back. The Demon's eyes bulged at the impossible presence of an Angel, along with the eyes of the mage and many of the elves. Before he could say or do anything, Michael had closed the space between them, grabbed him by the throat and yanked him up into the air and away from the ground with his immensely powerful wings. In a fraction of a sec a thousand feet off the ground and Michael simply kept his grip on the Demon around the throat while pressing his other hand to it's forehead and pushed holy Light through each hand, instantly incinerating the fiend, it's body turning to five ash and dissipating. The entire encounter took just over one second.

Turning around in confusion, the Demon's giggled at the absence of both their comrade and the 'human' that had approached. The Elves were shocked too, the winged man that they had seen moved so fast that it appeared he teleported to the Demon before there was the flicker of a black streak moving straight up into the sky.

The two remaining demons spun back around towards the terrified Elves just in time to see Michael land gracefully in between them and their intended prey. The Demon to his left, 'Lefty', goggled, "No! It can't be... This world isn't in the jurisdiction of the Angelic Host! Nor is it covered by the treaty between Heaven and the Seven Circles! We are not violating the ceasefire!"

"You're right. This world isn't under the protection of Heaven. But, in case you haven't noticed from the color of my wings, I'm no longer bound to Heaven's service. I'm now one of the Fallen!" Michael said calmly, his voice escalating only with his final sentence.

"Who are you Angel?" Lefty asked, the word spit from his mouth like a curse.

"Who am I? Who am I! I am Michael the Archangel! Prince of Heaven, Marshall of the Divine Armies, Right Hand of the Lord and the Slayer of Satan. I. AM. The Wrath of God!" He roared, the ground literally shaking with his words.

"No... it can't be! You were gone! You're dead!" Righty screamed in absolute fear.

"I am Fallen. Not dead...", whispered Michael, causing the two Demons to turn, unfurl their bat-like wings and take to flight in terror. Or at least attempt to.

The nearer of the two had barely managed to turn when Michael raised one hand, palm forward, and a bolt of concentrated holy Light lanced out from his hand. The demon, Lefty, lurched and it's feet and wings failed to respond to his mind's commands causing the demon looked down to see a saucer sized tunnel running completely through the center of his torso as the charred flesh surrounding the lethal wound gave off light wisps of smoke. Light now passed easily through the area where it's heart used to be as one could see completely through Lefty's chest cavity.

As the Elves looked on, rooted to the ground as audience to something that was far into the realm of impossibility just moments before, the second demon, Righty, actually managed to to get about a meter off the ground. As Righty was struggling to get airborne and create distance, the Light glowing from Michael's right hand solidified and formed itself into an extremely long bullwhip that pulsed with a golden glow and looked like it was made from tightly woven metal bands. The whip coiled before snapping out and slicing downward through the air at a slight angle, Michael pulled lash through the air until the glowing tip made contact with the fleeing demon. The last demon's body posed next to no resistance to the weapon made of holy Light as it sliced through it's flesh and bone, completely bisecting the entire body. The two pieces of Righty's corpse hadn't even fallen to the ground before they began turn to ash.

The Elves continued to stare at him in awe but there was also some wariness in their stances. Just because Michael had destroyed some demons didn't mean he was necessarily their ally. Michael calmly approached the caravan before stopping twenty yards out and waiting for someone to approach as he wanted to show them that he wasn't going to attack but did want to talk. After less than a minute, the female Mage approached Michael. He noticed that she was very tall for an Elf, especially a female. She had platinum colored hair and small pointed ears as well as beautiful but severe features. However her face lit up substantially when she graced Michael with a soft smile on her approach.

"Gratitude. We owe you a life debt. I do not know who you are but I grateful for your intervention," the Mage said, "my name is Emilae."

"I am Michael, Warden of the North and leader of the Armies of human resistance. The Orcs have joined us from the east and are at the Dorian Capitol right now."

Emilae appeared distressed but instantly hid it well, "did you not receive our messenger? She is my sister so I'd really appreciate knowibg whether or not she made it to human sanctuary."

"If you are speaking about Amila, then yes. It was a close thing, as they sent a Manticore to hunt her and it finally caught up as she was just entering the Capitol, but she made it and is safe this moment."

"Oh thank the gods!"

"You are Amila's sister? Truly? She mentioned that she had a sister but she never told me her name."

"Are you close?" Emilae asked.

"Yes. Yes, we are. I care for her a lot. She is very admirable and likable. So very bright."

Emilae just smiled and nodded, clearly keeping her thoughts to herself.

"You should get moving. Get back to your central village as soon as you can. I'm going to go fetch your sister and then I will return. It was a pleasure to meet you, Emilae."

And then he was cutting through the air with a single stroke of his wings before she could respond.

:..:

Talasa laid on the large bed in her luxurious room in the Dorian palace, trying to cope with the soul crushing hollowness of losing the one she loved more than life itself. Subdued depression seemed to permeate the air throughout the entire palace and Amila was even worse off than herself. The little elf had locked herself in the room they had offered her and wouldn't speak with anyone. The muffled sobs escaping through the door were the only indication that she still lived.

Laying on the bed, she stared through tearful eyes at the Michael's Falcata as she ran her fingers over the grip and wondered if it was even worth it carry on. She had only got to be with him for such a short time and she knew her heart would never recover. Orcs usually moved on fairly quickly after the loss of a loved one, content to avenge their loved ones and move on with life, but she couldn't love another make after this. Who could possibly measure up?

"Are you thinking about me, love?" A familiar voice said from the open balcony.

Her eyes widened as she rolled over to see her Lord standing there, looking better than ever. His hair was cut short and his body was nearly bare with it's usual armor suit. She noticed his glowing blue eyes but didn't care as she jumped up and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around him and crying joyfully.

"How!? We saw you. We watched as you were..." Talasa sobbed.

"Shh. It's alright. I'm here, baby. I'm here."

After a moment of silent embrace, Michael spoke, "where is Amila? I can feel her pain and despair".

"I'll take you to her. She hasn't been coping well with losing you. We all felt so lost but she just shut down. She won't see anyone. She won't believe that your alive!"

Walking out of her room, Talasa led Michael down the deserted hallway to another door on the left side at it's end. There was no reply when Talasa knocked and the door was locked when she tried the handle. Michael just smiled and waved his hand, causing a faint click to be heard, before opening the door by the now open handle. No candles had been lit inside the room so the moonlight streaming in from the open balcony was the only illumination.

Michael silently padded over to the bed, where a very small figure lay under the covers motionless. Wordlessly, he climbed into bed with her and wrapped his arms around her tiny form. Without opening her eyes, Amila pressed her face up to his bare chest and inhaled deeply. A lone tear ran down her cheek and she whispered, "I've missed you".

"I'm here, my sweet, I'm here"

"I don't want to wake up. I know you'll be gone when I do. Can't I just stay here with you?" Amila sobbed.

"I'm really here. Baby please, just open your eyes."

"Why? Haven't I suffered enough? I'm not like these humans, we Elves bond for our souls for eternity. I lost you before we could even begin."

Without another word, Michael leaned in and softly kissed her lips, "it's really me, my little lovel. I'm not here."

Reluctantly, Amila's eyes opened to see Michael's face right in front of hers. After some momentary confusion, her eyes bulged widely and she raised her hand to stroke his face, as if verifying that he was physically present. "You're really not here? We saw you... We saw you die!" she sobbed.

"I know, love. It's really me. My father sent me back. I'm whole now. My power and strength has awakened."

Talasa, who had been silently watching the exchange with tears in her eyes and a bright smile on her face, spoke in highly improved human language, "it's true Amila. It's really him. He's a bit different now but it's truly him."

"Your father? Does that mean..." Amila started.

"Yes. Your initial suspicions were correct. I am what your ancestors knew as 'Angelis'."

Amila was overwhelmed by everything. The Angelis were legendary as the first warriors who drove the Darkness out of much of the universe. The champions of life and Light. To have her love back, and confirmed as one of their number, was an overload of both her loving heart and her intellectually curiosity. Lighting the bedside lamp, she gasped at Michael's new appearance. Both women gasped as his large wings unfurled from his back.

"It's amazing. You're so... so beautiful."

Giving a playful pouting face, Michael said, "I thought I was always beautiful!"

Amila just giggled and wiped the tears from her eyes as she ran her hands over the surface of Michael's wings. It quickly became apparent that black 'feathers' covering his wings weren't actually feathers but more like thin and smooth scales. She appreciated the golden skin that seemed to sparkle when the light hit it at certain angles and covered sculpted muscles of his torso.

"I need you. I need you in me right now. Prove to me that this is real. Please!" Amila pleaded as she began to shed her sleeping gown.

Looking at the two side by side, the dichotomy was extremely exciting. Amila's childlike cuteness next to Talasa's nearly obscenely voluptuous femininity had his cock lifting up the silk wrap that adorned his waist immediately. Wrapping Amila up in his arms, they exchanged a scorching kiss as Talasa untied the strings at her shoulders that held up her revealing gown. Her smooth Emerald skin stoked his fire as her huge breasts became visible, their round masses barely hanging at all as her flesh defied gravity. The gown got stuck around her wide hips, leaving her bare from the waist up, as she quickly found her place kneeling before Michael.

Opening her mouth, she stroked his impossible length as she took Michael's cockhead into her mouth and began ravenously slurping and pumping. As Talasa's head of black hair bobbed up and down in front of his groin and her hands moved up to grope his divine torso, Michael continued to make out with Amila while slipping a finger before her tiny folds and pressing against her little nub.