Descent of Chaos

Zariel's breath was tense. His hands were over the western wing of the castle walls. He knocked a few times, and a solace glint flickered through sterling eyes as the quiver of the Weave passed through his palms, racing to his mind, revealing the weakness of the invisible warding. He swiftly readied Severance in preparation.

"Are you sure?" Arvel Gethin hesitantly said. Unsure why he saw to interfere in the affairs of such a young boy, carrying a katana twice his size. "If you leave, you will die. They are all in the third stage of power."

Young Master, Zariel, shot the Baron a side glance and fixed his cold gaze once more on the wall before him. He placed both hands on Severance and parted his legs. Experiencing a sensation, he could not explain, almost as if the Weave was comforting him. Telling him that he would be safe, that all he needed to do was follow the flow of the Weave.

He could sense the vibrations of the Weave against his flesh, fueling a dark flame he hid since he single-handedly brought on the Era of Chaos. The Weave swirled around his small body, and his sword whipped through the darkness, an explosion of a vicious blade of power and precision carved through the wall of warding like hot butter.

Light of the scarlet moon pierced through the darkness of the tower of Sorrow, washing over Zariel. The young lord stepped out and arched his gaze at the cluster of erupting flurries racing back in the skies as Dearil, the Lord of Ash, battled against three members of the Black Hand. Clashing with mad abandon under the glow of the scarlet night, the cloaks held by those of the black hand were torn to shreds, revealing deep a pale grayish-black skin. Lur'vian's, they were often called, were known by those in Noctem. These Lur'vians ears were pointed like elves, but the lobes seemed to hang to their shoulders, carrying tribal piercings along the edges. While their eye sockets were hollow, allowing the darkness of their eyes to pool with the power of night.

Dearil was quick to catch sight of Zariel, and his expression paled. He swiftly swatted Lem'gi of the Black Hand away with his spear in a horizontal sweep. He bellowed, "This trial is over, everyone! Guardians, begin your duty and remove these kids!"

Coughing up a mouthful of blood, Lem'gi left arm hung loosely to his side as he pierced his Rapier through the crust of the Redwoods to slow his movement. Lem'gi grunted; having come to a halt, he hastily peered up towards Dearil, who had been holding back. He had to protect those in the Redwoods, the geniuses within his kingdom. But even so, the Black Hand held almost no advantage.

The Lur'vian growled, revealing fangs, and he shot off his feet. He whipped through the confines of space like a bolt of light, ready to resume his battle, when a smile appeared on his face. He twisted his neck and settled his smoldering gaze to land on Zariel Snow, standing peacefully.

Their eyes locked, and Lord Zariel erupted in a pillar of acana. He bolted. Weaving through the trees, he reached far into himself, relinquishing himself to the flow of the Weave, his body tilted, when all of a sudden, a cold silver rapier raced past his head, startling Lem'gi gravely. His heart had jumped as he had never seen someone within the first powers dodge his strike.

Ready to strike again, the scarlet flicker of the Laws of Extermination exploded with such power a sea of dust consumed the skies; as Dearil's spear ran, the star-struck Lem'gi through the neck, ripping his head from his shoulders in a single stroke. He glanced at Zariel, dripping sweat, and sent a soul whisper, "I don't know how you lived, but run! Now! I can't help you again!"

Whipping off his feet, Zariel was quick to reply, acting on the sleight of hand between him and his uncle's hands, "You must hurry, Uncle. The Redwoods are about to be no more." he revealed in a deep tone that sent chills to the Lord of Ash. Stirring by his instincts, screaming like they did that day, at the beginning of the Era of Chaos, he gulped and glanced at the last two hovering in the skies.

"Target Located. "Said Torin, another Lur'vain with low cut hair and narrow eyes. He snarled and glanced at the body of Lem'gi. "Make sure to acquire the body." He said to Ronan. "If it can't be acquired, destroy it."

Locating Sionn and Ella in a flash, the Young Master quickly returned their souls to Alos, where their real bodies resided. Grim, he knew there was only one last mission. He needed to hide his and Aurelia's tracks. He glanced around, noticing the bodies of Sionn's companions were missing. Zariel could not be bothered to care.

He took a large breath and placed his hands together as if to pray, then closed his eyes. A calm pulse seemed to ripple from his body as he once more reached deep inside himself. The forest of the Redwoods seemed to quiver, almost as if a supernatural force blew through the land. Reaching far and wide, Zariels Divine Sense slowly came to a stop, and his eyes opened.

He had pondered over the many Rules of the Weave and how he could manipulate it for endless cycles. To disrupt the Weave in an object, Zariel needed to hold it; however, would that be true if he used his Divine Sense. A power held by many Soul Arcanists that allowed the souls to release astral force through the land, allowing the soul to see and touch without physically touching. It was one of the reasons Zariel could use telekinesis to lift objects.

The winds began to pick up with an odd flow to them, blowing through the Redwoods as far as his senses could take them. Lord Zariel smiled and narrowed his eyes, which slowly began to glow with savage scarlet. He licked his lips and peered up at those watching, to those who were witnessing his mysterious power. The eerie winds rippled, and Zariel parted his hands enough to fit a bead between his hands.

He took another large breath, and his body slowly began to quiver and fade; When a loud screeching noise began to bellow. Stirring the very realm, horror of all variety once more exploded in the hearts of everyone as Zariel clapped his hands together.

"Decent of Chaos."