Freedom of Flight

There was a roar of outrage from his assembled men.

"We leave in an hour, prepare." Dominic ordered, his voice booming through the hall.

His men jumped to their feet, ignoring their meals as the bells started to toll, warning those who were away from the Keep or dining with their families that the Lord was going to battle and they were needed. All around the Keep the message was spread, Markus had the Princess. Blacksmiths and tradesmen dropped what they were doing and dusted off their rarely used armour. They would defend the Keep and guard the retreat while the main army is away.

Dominic tried to stand still as a servant strapped his armour on. She didn't fumble, having helped the Lord with his armour so many times but never had she seen him furious like he was now. She understood why. Sage was Dominic's world, she was a small piece of his beloved. He had lost his soul mate, but he couldn't lose Sage, not her as well. It didn't matter to him that she was the only female Nephalim ever to be born in their entire history, to him she was his child, his precious little gem, the little piece of Bianca he had left was in danger.

"My lord." She said gently.

"Yes E'lisa." He said gently, trying to find his calm as he knew he shouldn't go into a fight angry.

"My lord, it is okay to be furious." She told him.

He shook his head. "No… not until she is safe and I have Markus in my hands." He walked off.

"Make it slow, my lord." She called to his back.

He smiled and continued to walk down to the quadrangle where his men were assembled and waiting. He was surprised at the sheer number who had gathered. He glanced up at the Keep's protective walls. The Keep itself was built into a cliff face which added as a natural defensive quality. A large ledge was sectioned off into farming and craft areas, a stone wall and imposing watch towers guarded the keep as did the shear drop into a craggy gorge.

Every man of fighting age stood before him, ready to take on Lord Markus and his army to get their princess back. He was surprised as three other Nephalim lords and two Gephalim lords, with their men, joined their ranks. They had their own reasons to want Markus taken down but for whatever reasons it may be, together they had a greater chance of success.

*

Sage came back to herself with a smirk. My father is readying his men. Two hours, Alanna, and we'll be safe.

Alanna sighed then frowned. "I thought Nephalim had white wings. The ones who grabbed us had black."

Sage rolled her eyes. "White interspaced with grey," Sage corrected her. "They are Gephalim, war mongers. There are four kinds of Da'Vaila. To put it simply, we are like just like humans and with humans there are different races. S'ephalim, Nephalim, Gephalim and Dephalim. S'ephalim have pure white wings. They don't fight because they are the messengers of the gods. Gephalim have pure black wings and are war mongers. The gods created the S'ephalim and Gephalim, and to keep control of them and to control their numbers, they created the S'ephalim female and the Gephalim male and kept the two species apart."

Sage took a deep breath before continuing. "The gods however, became jaded. The S'ephalim could not fight, they were pure goodness and the Gephalim killed indiscriminately. So they picked one special S'ephalim and one special Gephalim and brought them together, hoping that they could produce a child who had the compassion and broad understanding of the S'ephalim but who would be able to become blood thirsty and fight like the Gephalim."

"And the Nephalim were born." Alanna concluded.

Sage nodded. "The gods kept the S'ephalim and the Gephalim together until they had sired twelve sons, no daughters and they became the twelve War Lords. Seeing that their plan worked, they took the essence of the twelve Lords and impregnated a whole heap of human women, who all gave birth to Nephalim sons." Sage concluded.

"What's a Dephalim then?"

Sage blushed although Alanna couldn't see it. "We don't talk about them often, they... the gods..." she hesitated and took a deep breath before starting again, "Dephalim are the wingless sons and daughters, it's rare only happening every now and then. They had the powers of the race they were sired by but they were wingless so they... well, a few of them pretended to be gods... and the gods didn't take kindly to that and... slaughtered them... erm... well de-create is a better term for what they did."

"De-create?" Alanna question.

"Um... well... the best way to describe de-creation is... it is the exact reverse of creation. Tarval says it wasn't pretty, he watched as a man literally dissolved before his eyes, everything broken apart at the molecular level, some even had their souls de-created, never to be put back together again. Ma talks about one sometimes, he was ancient and I was named after him. He was so wise but he never knew he was Dephalim and that was where his powers came from. He was different to the other Dephalim but the gods still decreated him."

"What happens if one was born tomorrow?" Alanna asked.

"Since the slaughter... no Dephalim has lived long after conception, always miscarried. The gods don't let them live, they could be the purest of souls but the gods have decreed their existence to be an affront and therefore have decreed their nullification to the universe. They cannot reverse their decision so there are no Dephalim anymore."

"But your acknowledgement of them means they exist." Alanna argued.

"We acknowledge them because their folly could easily become our folly. We have the story of their fate drilled into us the moment our powers become active. Just because we are useful to the gods does not mean they will not turn on us."

Alanna thought about that carefully, it was a cautionary tale for the god-like creatures the gods had created, that prevented anyone trying to rise above the status they were given at birth. She shivered as an unpleasant thought crossed her mind, she knew the chaos a false god could wreak. She could see Markus doing something like that but he knew what awaited him if he did.

After a moment of silent reflection, they heard the door open, they could hear the anger in Markus's voice. "Stupid, do I have to tell you how to scratch your balls? Put them in the Nephalim cage." He yelled.

"My lord… the Santaur is…" The guard had started to say.

"Move him." Markus growled and stormed off.

A loop connected to a pole looped around Alanna's foot and jerked them out. Alanna only just kept a cry of fear from passing her lips, she knew how much their captors would get off if they knew she was afraid. They were dragged to their feet and held as far apart from each other as their bound hands allowed.

The man holding Alanna cupped her jaw and tilted her head up. Alanna wasn't short at five nine but she was thoroughly intimidated by the eight foot tall Gephalim. He eyed her over and smirked. The hand that cupped her jaw slid down her body. She stood rigid, enduring his treatment, not even tensing her muscles as his hand ran over them. She knew what would happen if she fought him, if she fought any of them, she had endured many beatings for refusing Gus's touch. His eyes never once left hers.

He watched the snapping fury in her eyes, he smiled. "I will have fun with you little one. I just won the bidding rights for you." He told her.

Alanna felt the creeping cold of fear fill her, all the time thinking that this man had bought her, he was going to use and abuse her. He pressed Alanna against the wall. Alanna went to strike out but he caught her forearm in his large hand and gripped it tightly until a gentle crack was heard. He watched as she didn't even flinch as he broke her arm, he smiled in twisted amusement and kissed her firmly.

Sage surged forward and slammed into the man pressing her sister to the wall. "Leave her alone, you prick."

She pulled Alanna back to her. Sage felt a batten dug into her side. Her free hand lashed out, smacking the man who had hit her, across his face. Alanna kicked the man who had been kissing her as hard as she could, between his spread legs. He yelled and curled over his violated parts.

A third guard came out of nowhere and slapped Alanna across the cheek. Alanna turned with the blow, her shoulder striking the wall and dropped to a knee, the blow had cracked her cheekbone and broken the skin. Sage spun around, kicking the third guard with enough strength to send the guard flying back. Alanna pulled herself to her feet, her ears still ringing from the blow and her vision still fuzzy. She blinked for a few moments, trying to get her eyes to focus.

Twelve guards appeared bearing nerve whips. Markus glared at the three men of his who could not handle two mere women. He then glared at the two women in question and his glare slowly turned into a smirk. If they had been men, he would have considered them to be worthy adversaries, but as women, they were merely a nuisance that needed to be taught their place in a man's world.

"Twelve lashes each then get them into the cell." He walked up to Sage. "Three more hours and the magicians will have cut through the spell that binds you." He turned to his men. "Backs only…" He finished his order as he walked off.

His men chuckled and forced Sage and Alanna into an antechamber. Shackles hung from the ceiling, one man moved the placement of a pair of shackles so they were closer. A pair of shackles was locked around Alanna's wrists after she was lifted off the ground so her wrists could reach the shackles. Chains bound her feet in place to keep her from twisting around. Sage was chained up the same way next to her, both of them surrendering to their fate for the moment, knowing that there is no way to escape this.

Wing binders were locked around Sage's wings and buckled forward so her back was exposed and not protected by her wings.

The men loosened their whips; they would get to lash each woman once. The nerve whip was a painful device, it was designed to inflict intense pain. Not only will it tear the flesh but it set every nerve in the body on fire. To inflict the most pain, each lash was done after the edge of the nerve fire had worn off, some five minutes after the lash. They didn't allow the nerve fire to die completely, only to dull to a degree. Each lash would increase the effect of the nerve fire, making each lash more painful than the last.

A man stepped forward and used a dagger to cut the back of Alanna's shirt off, meaning that nothing would get between the bite of the whip and her skin. He stepped back and smirked at his friends, his eyes had caught the faint scars of previous beatings across her back. "She has tasted a whip before." He told them.

"And I really wanted to hear her scream." Another complained loudly.

Sage… whatever you do, do not make a sound, it's what they want. Now, you need to relax all of your muscles and keep them relaxed. If you don't, it'll hurt even more. Alanna coached as Sage's shirt was cut from her back.

The exercise ma taught us, the one on how to detach the mind from the body? Sage asked.

Yes. Alanna told her, she was hanging limp in the chains. She turned her head and her eyes focused on her linked hand with Sage.

One snorted in amusement, "Oh, she'll still sing, there is a big difference between a whip, and a nerve whip." Many chuckled in evil delight.

"And we'll just have to make sure this whip bites deep." A man said as he readied his whip, his friends smirked and readied their whips; they were in for some fun.