The court part 5 ch 17

In a fit of rage and disbelief, Gark channels his magical energy, summoning dark tendrils of shadow to his command. With a malicious grin, he unleashes a barrage of shadowy bolts towards Aither, aiming to catch the god off guard and provoke a confrontation.

Aither, sensing the impending attack, reacts swiftly. With a flick of his wrist, he conjures a shimmering barrier of starlight, deflecting the incoming bolts with ease. The air crackles with magical energy as the two opposing forces clash, the Feywild itself trembling at the intensity of their conflict.

Undeterred, Gark intensifies his assault, weaving dark curses and hexes into his spells. The shadows twist and writhe, reaching out hungrily towards Aither, seeking to ensnare him in their grasp. But Aither stands firm, his own magic blazing bright as he counters Gark's attacks with waves of celestial energy.

The forest around them echoes with the sounds of their battle, the very air pulsating with the raw power of their magic. Sparks fly as Aither and Gark face off, their clash threatening to unleash chaos upon the Feywild. And as the confrontation escalates, it becomes clear that only one of them will emerge victorious from this deadly dance of light and shadow.

With a solemn expression, Aither raises his hands to the heavens, his voice resonating with a power that seems to echo through the very fabric of reality. "I call upon the my judges," he intones, his words imbued with celestial authority, "come forth and bear witness to my divinity."

As if responding to his command, the air around Aither begins to shimmer and dance with golden light. In a dazzling display of cosmic energy, twenty-two radiant figures materialize before him, their angelic forms bathed in ethereal radiance. Each one exudes an aura of divine power, their presence commanding reverence from all who behold them.

The angels, known collectively as the Divine Order(The angles collectively decided to call them selves. ), kneel before Aither in a gesture of deference, their faces serene and their wings unfurled in a display of celestial majesty. "We are here, my lord," they speak in unison, their voices harmonizing like a chorus of heavenly bells. "To serve and to obey, as you command."

Aither nods in acknowledgment, a sense of pride swelling within him at the sight of his celestial servants. With a determined glint in his eyes, he raises his hand, channeling the raw power of his divine essence.

In a breathtaking display of magic, the very stars above begin to shimmer and dance in response to Aither's command. Constellations shift and realign, tracing intricate patterns across the night sky, while beams of moonlight cascade down like cascading waterfalls, bathing the glade in an otherworldly glow.

The fey creatures gathered nearby watch in awe and wonder as the heavens themselves seem to bend to Aither's will, a testament to his unquestionable divinity. With a sense of pride and purpose, Aither turns to his angels, his gaze filled with gratitude.

As Gark commands his goblin horde to attack, chaos erupts in the glade as the creatures heed their king's call with fervor. With a fierce battle cry, the goblins surge forward, brandishing crude weapons and unleashing guttural war cries..

Aither, the Archfey god, stands resolute in the face of the onslaught, his expression a mask of calm determination. With a commanding gesture, he raises his hand, calling upon the power of the celestial realm to aid him in defense of the Feywild.

The angels of the Divine Order, sensing the imminent threat, spring into action with divine grace and precision. With a chorus of heavenly voices, they descend upon the battlefield, their radiant forms striking fear into the hearts of the goblin horde.

With swift and graceful movements, the angels engage the goblins in combat, their celestial weapons shimmering with divine energy as they fend off the attackers with righteous fury.

Meanwhile, Aither himself steps forward to meet the goblin king, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Gark," he calls out, his voice carrying across the battlefield with commanding authority. "This does not have to end in bloodshed. Lay down your arms and embrace reason."

As the goblin horde surges forward with reckless abandon, the angels of the Divine Order recognize the imminent threat posed by the chaotic onslaught. With a wordless exchange of understanding, they form a circle, their celestial energies intertwining in a radiant display of unity.

In unison, the angels begin to chant, their voices rising in a harmonious chorus that resonates with the very essence of the Feywild. With each verse of their celestial hymn, their powers coalesce into a shimmering barrier of light that encircles the goblin horde, binding them in place.

The goblins, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, find themselves ensnared within the glowing tendrils of the angels' magic. They thrash and struggle against the ethereal bonds, their wild cries of fury drowned out by the celestial chorus.

With unwavering focus, the angels maintain their spell, channeling their divine energy into the barrier with unyielding determination. The radiant glow of their magic bathes the glade in a warm, comforting light, a stark contrast to the chaos and darkness of the goblin horde.

As the spell takes hold, the goblins' movements become sluggish and disjointed, their will to fight drained away by the overwhelming power of the angels' magic. With each passing moment, the barrier tightens its grip, rendering the goblin horde powerless to break free.

And as the last echoes of the angels' hymn fade into the ether, the glade falls silent once more, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the gentle hum of magic in the air. The goblins, bound by the celestial spell, stand motionless amidst the glow of the Feywild, their threat neutralized by the collective might of the Divine Order.