Neyaphem Thor Part III

Everything felt different.

The fibre of his muscles, the density of his bones, the blood that pumped through his veins, the breath that rushed into his lungs. Everything down to the most minuscule of details, all felt different, felt empowered. He breathed in deeply, arms outstretched as he bathed in the light, feeling the power coursing throughout his body.

It was nothing like he was when he had been Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard, but compared to what he was, he felt powerful.

Looking over his shoulder, Thor frowned in thought, humming lightly as he looked upon the pure black wings that protruded from his black. They were similar to that of those wielded by the Cheyarafim, but whereas there's was pure white, shining with golden light at times, his was pitch black, almost appearing to suck in the light around him.

Yet he was broken from his thoughts by the shouts and warcries of the enclosing Cheyarafim. 'I had forgotten about them.' He thought, frown twisting into a smile as instincts flooded into his mind. Muscles he had never possessed before tensed and his wings gave one mighty flap as Thor rocketed into the air, dust and smoke exploding outwards.

The Cheyarafim that had been closing on him from above gave cries as he burst past them, caught completely off-guard by the speed of his ascent. They spun rapidly and while some managed to regain their equilibrium, some did not, they crashing to the ground. It mattered little to Thor, he simply enjoyed the feeling of the wind against his face and in his hair as he slowly came to a stop.

Floating within the air, Thor smirked as he looked down upon them, eyes clearly able to see them even from a distance. 'So this is the power of a Cheyarafim.' His body felt stronger, senses more attuned and of course, wings that enabled him to take to the skies. 'Combine that with the powers of a Neyaphem.' Extending one hand, Thor reached out to the shadows they cast upon the ground and pulled.

The Cheyarafim upon the ground let out cries as their own shadows rushed out and attacked them, swallowing them into the ground. Those in the air flew up, spikes of shadows just barely missing them by inches. Yet while they had escaped the shadows, they did not escape Thor who rushed to them they having been herded closer to him. Reaching out, he gripped one by the side of the head and rocketed towards the ground.

Just as he closed in, he pulled up, driving the head of the Cheyarafim against the ground and dragging him across it. The speed at which he flew wore down his opponents head till it was simply a bloody smear upon the ground, Thor pulling up from the ground with an elegant spin as he turned to face the remainders, the headless body in his hands been discarded with nary a dismissive glance.

It was a truly marvellous feeling, one that he had forgotten. To feel the wind through his hair, brushing against his cheeks. While he may no longer be able to bend it to his will, Thor felt one with it once more.

The world around him was once more open to him.

And as the Cheyarafim closed in upon him, enraged at the deaths of their comrades, Thor smirked. Wings unfurling to their full length and giving one mighty flap forwards. Their wingspan was larger than the others, they met much more air resistance and pulled it all. The Cheyarafim recognised the attack, unleashing similar moves upon the Neyaphem during the war.

The most powerful of them had been their leader, Thor's counterpart. His wings had been larger and enabled him to fly with greater speeds than anyone else. In turn, his attacks, using his wings to direct pressurised wind at his enemies was also far greater and more devastating.

Thor unleashed it upon them at that moment, a wall of wind striking them like a wall of steel that knocked them from the sky. And as they plummeted to the ground, Thor clenched his fists, the shadows sprouting from the ground once more, piercing through their bodies. And as Thor floated within the air, looking upon the sight before him, he smiled.

He may have failed to conquer Midgard, but wherever he was now, he would conquer it. His power had grown dramatically and one day, he would return. For now, though, he would travel this new dimension and find what he could.

-X- Line Break -X-

Their war had lasted for so long.

Once united, the Bird Men of Akah Ma'at had been created by the great Goddess, Oshtur to protect mankind from the creations of Set and Chthon. As humanity existed, it was them, the Bird Men of Akah Ma'at that fought against the Lizardmen and Wolfmen who sought to shape the world in their creator's image.

They succeeded, driving the vile creatures to point of near extinction, never to raise their heads against humanity again. And so they too, disappeared from the realm of men, building floating cities within the skies so that they could watch over mankind. They waited and watched, ready to fulfil their duty to protect mankind from the creations of the Elder Gods.

But no such threat returned.

Instead, recognising the power of the Bird Men, Children of Oshtur, the Elder God, Chthun created a new race. One whose purpose was to destroy the Bird Men of Akah Ma'at, these were called the Man-Bats of Ur Xanarrh A twisted mockery of the great and noble Bird Men, known to humanity as the Winged Lords. Under the assault of these creatures, the Bird Men once again went to war.

But as they fought against the Man-Bats, more Elderspawn were created and unleashed upon mankind, free to act without the Bird Men to stop them. Even after defeating the Man-Bats of Ur Xanarrh, they still had more wars to fight. At that moment though, their leader, son of Oshtur, Agamatto left. Without a leader to guide them, they were unable to protect mankind as they had in the past and so, retreated to their floating cities.

For centuries they resided within it, until Agamatto returned, gifting them with his knowledge of magic that he had accumulated. Yet after naming Shamhat Saraswati his successor and disappearing from the world once more, a divide formed amongst the Bird Men of Akah Ma'at who now called themselves the Winged Lords, just as humanity had named them.

Some of the Winged Lords viewed themselves as superior and broke away from the teachings of Oshtur, believing they should subjugate mankind much like other Elderspawn. These were led by the strongest of their race, Varuna.

On the other, those that stuck to the teachings of Oshtur, believing they should protect mankind. These were led by the second Sorcerer Supreme, Shamhat Saraswati.

The two sides clashed in a war that caused mass destruction, enough so that Oshtur intervened. Disgusted by what her creations had become, she cast them out, banishing them to a separate dimension. There, their war continued unimpeded, only for that all to change when strange creatures, monsters invaded.

The Winged Lords once divided were forced to combine their forces against these monsters just to survive. 'And now a new threat has appeared.' Varuna thought, departing from the capital of the Winged Lords kingdom, Akah Ma'at that now resided within the Planes of Sephiroth.

Their sorcers, attuned to the fabrics of their dimension, watching carefully for any sign of another invasion had sensed their arrival. A small group, nothing like the large hosts of monsters that would usually arrive, nor possessing their power. Nonetheless, Varuna was not going to leave this to chance, he departing with his most elite warriors, prepared to fight against whatever being had arrived.

Yet the sight that greeted him, was that of a winged figure, so much like his people. He turned, to face him, his black wings unfurling to a length surpassing any of the Winged Lords. The sun was beginning to set, casting dark shadows across the land and from them, tendrils rose up.