The first mission of Thalgarth

Time flew by as if it were nothing. At the beginning, everyone had to lay down their old names and think about new ones. Mary, who had been Morgana, was attending Grim School by now, with the knowledge that she was a member of Thalgarth.

Years and decades of training went by. Morgana was 150 years old by now, and she was one of the top members of Thalgarth. However, there were many people she could never reach; there were four in total, and one of these was Moros, formerly known under the name Robert. He was 120 by now and had developed far better than any of the rest.

Morgana was one of the top five, and with that in charge of one out of five divisions, she was the weakest of all division commanders and, with that, the commander of the fifth division.

Moros was the commander of the first division, and with that, he was by far the strongest of them. Morgana loved her Moros like no one else; she had no idea from where this feeling came, but for some reason she felt a sibling bond between him and her. A feeling that she shared with nobody else.

Today was the day Morgana and Moros would commit their first sins; it was the day of their first missions. The old man apologized to them.

Morgana and Moros were with the old man in one room. Both of the siblings kneed with one knee on the ground, their gaze fixed on the floor as the voice of the old man resounded.

"My children, I am pleased to tell the both of you that today I will assign the very first mission of Thalgarth into your two hands."

"We are pleased to hear that, father." Moros spoke up for both of them; a small grin had been seeable from Morgana's point of view.

"Perfect; in this case, I will begin. The mission I give the two of you is to bring me an angel; he appeared a few days ago on earth, and I want him. Would the two of you be kind enough to do so?"

In an energetic tone, Morgana spoke, "Of course, father."

She and Moros were ready to stand up and go out, preparing for the mission.

"Wait, I am not finished." In the moment both of them heard the old man's strict voice, the two of them got down to their knees again, waiting for the command's full explanation.

"I want you to cut this angel's wings off and bring them separated from each other to me, one of you the wings and the other the body. Do the two of you understand?"

Morgana and Moros stood up, looked the old man into his eyes, and talked in silence with a grin that would scare the evilst demon. "Of course, father."

As they saw the pleased grin on the face of the person they call father, the two of them left the room and walked to their divisions. This was not a mission for many people; it was a mission for only the two of them. Yet they still had things they needed before going on their mission.

The first was a nail with deadly poison for the very last option; second, masks to hide their faces; third, external weapons. Of course, they would use their souls on the mission, but using external weapons could turn the table at the right moment.

The two of them took knives as their extraneous weapons. It took no long until they were ready and departed, on the way towards earth.

The old man brought them there, and the only thing the two of them saw was a dark room. They stood in this room for five minutes and then appeared in an alley in Paris.

"Morgana, let's discuss things now and then get to work, alright?" Morgana nodded and followed Moros deeper into the alley. The two of them crouched down and began to discuss their tactics for the fight.

Moros began, "Alright, let's point out the biggest problem, and this is that we are still children while we have to fight an angel, and you remember what fighting monsters these things are."

Morgana remembered the many hours of racial science she had. In these lessons, she was told that angels are warriors that are on a level with the dragons, the race that is known to be a race of warriors where the strong rule and the weak obey.

"And what do you think we should do?" Morgana asked, her eyes showing her determination; she wanted to rip this angel's wings off and bring them with her very own hands to the man she calls father.

"The only option I see is by attacking him from behind and knocking him out before he can even get what happened to him."

Morgana agreed to Moros plan, even if she was blinded by the anticipation she felt—the anticipation to feel how she ripps this angel's wings out and presents them in front of this being right before his very own eyes.

One thing had however been true, and this needed to be the angels strength as the old man warned them over and over again. If the attack failed, the only opinion the two of them would have was to run away and try again when he thought he was alone. But their best chance remained when the two of them were unseen and unpredicted by the angel.

Moros got to a high point in the city, where he searched for the angel. He needed a long time.

His eyesight was not one hundred percent developed; for reapers, it took about 160 years for all their senses to be one hundred percent developed. A reaper could hear, see, and smell much better if he wanted to. The sense of touch and smell of humans and reapers were pretty much the same.

Moros and Morgana were always changing their positions; they had to make sure not to be seen by anyone, and that meant not only humans but also all other races. If they were discovered, they would have to call off their mission and continue it another day.

This was not the case, however, as Morgana later recognized the angel, who was in a small open space somewhere in the middle of Paris. It looked like he was waiting for someone—the only opportunity to strike. If he were to return to the world of angels, the mission would be a huge failure.

Morgana contacted Moros, who was not too far away from her. Where the two were getting ready to strike

"Ready?" Moros asked with his knives fixed on the angel.

"Yes." Morgana charged and reappeared directly behind the angel.

If Morgana hadn't let out such an enormous killing intent, the angel wouldn't have been able to detect her. He turned around and dogged the attack from her spear by a few centimeters.

"Who are you?"

SLAM

Before the angel could react, Moros punched with all of his might at the angel's jaw. The angel managed to stay conscious. The time he was on the ground, however, was enough for Morgana to jump in the air and land right on his wings.

Morgana's bodyweight became heavier, and the angel tried to escape; however, he was too afraid, damaging the angel's pride. His wings.

This action led to his downfall. Morgana fixed the wings under her feet, and with a single motion, she cut the first one.

"Ahhhh! No, please, not my wings!"

SLASH

The second wing got cut off, and at the sight of Moros holding his wing in his hand, the angel fainted into unconsciousness.

"Who are you to show yourself?" A deep, manly voice shouted.

"Shit, this needs to be one of these gurard bastards; let's leave."

At the shout of Morgana, Moros protects them back to Thalgarths headquarter.