Temporal Dream of Despair

[Demon Lord Gira]

Temporal Dream of Despair

Introduction: The history of our race

What is it that sentient beings wonder? Who we are? Where do we come from? How was the universe made? For many, they believe that they came about through blind, random processes, that the entirely to existence came about through an explosion of matter, and from that matter forged the universe, the planets and the stars, the asteroids that circle above our heads, the comets that leave their trails behind them as they evaporate, the grand black holes that destroy all within their expanding reach…

While this viewpoint is not entirely right, there is a grain of truth to it. Long ago, before life existed in this realm, there were two elements that twirled and clashed with one another, Aether and Nether. Aether was the light that wished to bring forth life into our world, the fount of all life itself, while Nether was the destroyer, the corruption that wished to bring forth an endless age of eternal darkness. Incompatible and at war with one another, the two elements fought , desiring their own kind of world.

And then, there came from the Aether, our creator, the Alpha himself, Jinengus. The very will and essence of Creation, the Creator scattered the darkness, and banished it into the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Our creator was left by himself, in a universe full of Aether, waiting for his order, for him to begin a new order… and so he did. A flick of the wrist, and the planets and galaxies were made. A breath of air, and the comets and asteroids came to be. He took of the Aether, and molded it into whatever he desired, creating Earth, that beautiful blue planet where his creations could live. He lifted his hands, and spread them apart, forming the very heavens themselves. Then… we were created. His elect, we angels who now call the heavens our home. We, who would tend to the earth and ensure the passage of those who died from there, to here, and give their souls roper rest, or if they proved themselves exceptionally well, make them of our own. As he went and formed the twenty-four gods that keep the earth in order, we built a temple in his honor, formed our society, and worshipped him. I myself was among his elect priests, speaking on his behalf to the masses. Time went on. Life on earth evolved under the most tender of care. Mankind came to be, the smartest of mortal beings, but not necessarly the wisest at times.

Then, tragedy struck. Something came over the angels, a desire for a world without a creator, a desire for them to become their own lords. I know not what possessed them, but in his sleep, the Creator was slain. Our own people had rebelled, much to my own horror. We priests of the High Temple were spared, but why I do not know. The temple still remains, but with our Creator deceased, it now serves only as a place where me and my brother go to seek answers, answers from the spirit of our Creator, which haunts those very halls. I know our kind had made a grave mistake…

And sure enough, that mistake would come to bite us. From the dark sealed pockets of Nether, arose the primordial dragon, Zuldes, a creature of unphantomable size and power. Like a dark master, it formed the Nether around it to its own liking, and in mockery of us, created its own realm from the Nether, a realm we call the Underworld. Demons spawn from this primordial darkness, dark monster and other abominations slander us and mock us… and they compete with us. They desire the very souls we want, not for eternal rest, but for their own nefarious devices. They have their own collectors, Death Gods, who harvest those souls. It is an outrage and an abomination among us… yet, to the tyrant Zuldes’s mercy, e has organized a peace between us of Heaven, and them of the Underworld. He who gets the souls first owns them, and no Death God may attack an Angel, or vice versa. It is a system many are unappeased with, but we know it is better than a full out war.

Hopefully, this peace we know, despite how fragile it is, and the animosity on both sides, will last us our existence. Many hope it does. But while the above that I have written is common knowledge to all, it is not the full story. I and my brother, along with others who served Jinengus at the temple, know he dark secrets behind this past, but we hope that it will never come to light, least the worst come to pass…

~Cercil, High Archangel of the Temple of Jinengus

[Demon Lord Gira]

Prologue: Golden Tempest

Mulek let out a sigh as she lay upon the branch of a large redwood tree. Around her, the entire forest was drizzling with moisture, rain and mist dripping from the leafs and down toward the forest floor, a hundred feet below. She shifted in her position, the large draping black wings stretching and giving off a quick flutter . She frowned as several drops hit her forehead. Why did it have to be so wet here? She liked it nice and dry, not a goddamn rainforest. She brought her scaled wings up over her head and body, providing her body and head shelter from the wet… yet she just gritted her teeth as she felt the wet run down the sides of her wings. It sent shivers up her spine… it just felt so… wrong, and very unpleasant.

She froze as she felt something crawl up the top side of her right wing. She twisted the scaly structure to face her, and saw it was a bat, the small furry mammal having taken roost on it. “I guess you wanted to have some shelter for yourself.” Mulek said, as she grabbed the flying creature in her hands. The bat squirmed and bit at her at first, but as she rubbed her finger over the top of its wet head, the creature’s struggles lessened, and it rested its head on her hand. She smiled, as the bat accepted her rubbing. “I know how you feel, needing a place to go crash at, hang out where it’s all nice and dry… People who care for you, maybe even a family to feed? Oh, how I wish I had all that…”

The bat seemed to grin as Mulek began to scratch under its chin. It definitely was enjoying the love and attention… Mulek sighed as she shifted her gaze from the bat off into the forest. It really was a bad place to hang out for a bat like this, wasn’t it? All sorts of predators could be lurking in the dark wetness, waiting for the right opportunity for an easy meal. There were owls that could tear a bat like this to pieces, other giant bats that would happily tear apart a smaller cousin of theirs apart. There was this weird orange ooze she had seen over the past few days that dripped down from some branches and smothered small fliers, before digesting them at a slow leisurely pleasure. Hell, there were even snakes in this forest that would wait on branches for a bat like this to come by-

She sat up, her grip on the bat loosening. The small flier, apparently sensing what she had sensed, took off and flew deeper into the forest. The angel turned, the reddish-black skirt she wore helping her blend in against the dark branch. There was a soul nearby, and from the looks of it, it was only a few dozen meters. Of course, with how thick the trees were, and all the heavy rain, she was finding it difficult to see even that far. She stood up, making sure not to slip on the mossy branch. She had been scouring this forest for souls in the last few days, and it seemed as if, for once, her luck would finally pay off.

She assumed a more crouched state, hands and feet together like an oversized feline perched on the branch, before leaping off. The wings spread out to their full span, thirty feet of scales and membrane keeping the angel afloat as she descended toward the ground in a gentle silent glide. She twisted and waved between the mossy trees, before bringing herself to the ground, not a sound made as she landed. The great wings curled back up behind her as she made her way toward the soul. She had to be careful. Such souls were a rarity nowadays with how much competition there was. Too few people dying in these peaceful times on earth, especially with them living longer now. Even the animals themselves were dying less and less, and those who did, their souls weren’t much to bring back home. With so many Death Gods on the hunt for souls, it was rare to find a good quality soul… but it appeared in this case, she was in on her luck. No one else was around…

She rounded a large tree, and gasped. Sure enough, the soul was there, formless and hovering off the ground in the middle of the clearing… but there was something else as well. Mulek approached the soul, her eyes not on it, but on the splayed out body that lay beneath it. She couldn’t tell just what it was, the body no longer in recognizable state. Several ribs lay facing up, dripping blood and chunks of raw meat hanging from the edges of the bone. A horrible odor came to Mulek’s nostrils, and she was forced to wave it away as she approached. The body was already attracting its own scavengers, with a large bipedal reptile with a narrowed snout and tiny two-clawed arms tearing away at it. Flies swarmed over the carcass, and several crows were tearing away at what flesh remained. It was horribly repugnant, and Mulek found it hard just to look at it. Whoever the poor sap was, she felt sorry for him. Such a shame, to die in an isolated lonely place like this… She sighed, her eyes finally looking back to the soul. She stepped forward, her feet crunching down on some bones that she thought might have been the figure’s hands, and snatched the soul.

“At long last… an actual soul!” She purred, holding the formless entity by its tail. They were going to be happy that she had managed to get a soul for them. By chance, her gaze went down… and they widened. The bones she had stepped on… were not hand bones… they were wings… The wings of a Seraphim.

A sharp pain erupted from the back of her skull, sending Mulek sprawling onto the ground. The soul she had was yanked from her hands, and a foot came down on her neck, pinning her to the ground. She tried to turn, to see what was pinning her, but she was pushed back down into the earth. “Stay where you are, you filthy traitor. To think that we’ve been blind to the true cause of the murders all this time.”

She knew whose voice that was. “Aarabaki, what sort of nonsense do you speak?” Mulek shouted, as the angel kept her down. “What do you mean, murders? I happened upon this corpse by chance, you idiot!”

Powerful hands grabbed her hair, and the foot let off, bringing the angel up to face the seraphim. His own eagle-like face growled at her, as energy cuffs formed around the angel’s hands and feet, binding her. “You dare call me an idiot, when I see the scene most clearly with my own eyes? You are a fool, for daring to defy our order, to kill off our own, Metatron, when you were not favored to begin with. You are coming with me, half breed. The council will judge your fate, and you will be sent where you deserve to be… In the darkest depths of the abyss.” He screeched as he took off into the air, carrying the bound angel with him, as well as the soul.

Even in all this, Mulek couldn’t get over the name Aarabaki had said. Metatron… one of the holy Order of the Sun. That… that was his corpse? Who had killed him… or rather, what? She had never heard of an angel being slain during her entire life… what was going on here?

As the angels left, the compsognathus that had been feeding on the corpse chirped, and kept eating the flesh of the angel, before it lifted its head up. It screeched, head bobbing one way and another, before finally setting back to eat, unaware of the large cloaked figure that loomed above it, and the dark obsidian scythe that was in its hands...

[Demon Lord Gira]

Chapter 1: The Angelic High

Day and night in the realm of the angels was like it was for the humans down below. There was a sun that shone down upon the inhabitants of the pocket dimension during the day, and at night, a moon gave its own soft glow to those below. For the uninitiated, it seemed that it would be the same sun and moon that the humans, dragons, and animals of earth enjoyed… Only, it was anything but. The sun and moon that they saw… it was all an illusion, magical constructs created by the angels themselves to give them their own light and darkness. As it was, it was night, and there was rain descending upon the grand city of the Angelic High. There was no wilderness here, just a single city that encompassed the entire realm from border to border. Tall spires jetted up from the ground, towering above most of the ornate and pure ivory buildings that covered the land.

But chief among these spires, was one that seemed to reach the sky itself, towering thousands of meters above the ground. This was the Grand Gathering Hall, the very center of angelic society. In the center of it, on a stage overlooking a theater filled to the brim with angels, was the high priest of the Temple of Jinengus, a crimson-clad angel by the name of Cercil. She leaned over on the angelic staff she had at her side, the staff bending and cracking from the weight placed on it, but otherwise it held. For an angel, Cercil was large, standing in at over 3 meters in height, above the average angel. Her hair was long and silver, reflecting back the very sunlight that beamed on it. Her eyes were like a tigers, beaming to and from the audience gathered. She was here for one reason and one reason only, to speak to her peers and the entire community as a whole, and thankfully for her, her peers were the best she could have hoped for. Human councils squabbled and argued, and demons would rather fight among themselves than hold a civil debate, but her peers, the Elite among the Angelic High, were among the most well versed and intelligent of all creation. As far up as she could see, and all around her, were millions upon millions of angels, all waiting for her to begin her plea. They knew she would not have summoned them without good reason.

She cleared her throat. “Thank you, my fellow angels. I know that it has been many years since the last meeting has been ordained, but I felt as though this meeting was required. For as long as we have know, we have lived in relatively peaceful times. While the betrayal and murder of our Lord Jinengus has been a very touchy subject for those gathered here, and while I myself still do not agree with the decision that we can govern ourselves without the direct head of our leader, it has been, for the most part, an uneasy peace with the Abyss. Their lord, Zuldes, has been graceful enough to spare us his wrath and allow us to exist as we do for tens of millions of years. “

“But, I do fear that unease is in the air. Over the last several days, we have seen many of our own vanish without a trace. Several of our finest angels, Zadkiel, Jophiel, Haniel and Chamuel have all vanished, with no word from them since they went to gather souls on earth. Why I have gathered all of you today, is to discuss the possible reasons behind this, and to figure out a solution to this terrible problem. We cannot afford to lose our people to forces we know not of. “

With that, the crowd exploded into a flurry of voices and hands being raised. Cercil sighed, a hand brought up to her face. As well versed as her peers were, it seemed they forgot the very etiquette of their people. If it were only this childish behavior, then she wouldn’t have a problem, but the truth of the matter was far worse. She could sense it, the internal turmoil emerging within the very Elite. There was a kind of darkness, a kind of grim shadow that was hanging over their people ever since Jinengus had been murdered, or even before as Cercil suspected. Where once her own people had been pure and forgiving, now they had become more jaded, more argumentative, more like human beings, which she found alarming. They were becoming cynical of life, cynical of each other, untrusting even, and threatening each other if they viewed they were wronged. Just the other day, she had seen one angel assaulting another over a possible case of theft. As absurd as it was, she could not deny that it had happened, and the bruise she now wore on her neck rang as a testament of that corruption that now lurked in the darkest depths of the angelic society. Her own attempt to help out… and now she had to quell the rowdy crowd. She tried to shout out, to get them to be silenced, but the entire length of the spire, everyone was drowning her out, and each other out.

Atleast, until a bright light shone before them. All went silent as the fight took shape, hovering above Cercil. Two giant feathery wings burst from the figure’s body, and twin heads formed, draconic and crimson in color, supported on long thick necks. The figure landed on two pillar-like legs, the eagle like talons at the end digging into the ivory stone of the ground. The twin tails of the beast flicked and twisted around each other as the draconic entity glowed a brilliant hue, both the heads looking in each direction. “I would expect better manners from the chosen children of the Creator.” The figure rumbled, though neither of the mouths opened. The voice was broadcast to all gathered by telepathy. No one dared to speak out against the beast. They knew who he was… Fademus, the Great Seer of the Gods, and the representative of the angels for them. Reared up at his full height of 170 meters, the god flew off the ground, and hovered in the air, one head twisting down to look upon Cercil. “You may speak now. I do thank you for informing me of this meeting.”

“Thank you, Fademus. I am in your debt.” Cercil replied, placing her hand over her chest. To think it would take the presence of Fademus to quell the violence… The dragon began to shrink down in size, till he was at the same size as Cercil, though still in his oddly form, now standing beside her. “Now then, as I was saying, we need to figure out what exactly is causing our angels to disappear. We know not it isn’t the Death Gods and Judges of the Abyss. We have a peace with them, and there is no reason for them to instigate trouble with us.”

A figure rose from the stands. It was owl-like in appearance, and Cercil knew it was Darius, the Angel of Justice. “Are you sure of that claim? We have been competing with them for souls for eons now, and souls are becoming scarce. I have seen a look in the eyes of many of them, a look of discontent and hatred toward us. Surely, they are the cause of this, I know that much!”

“Are you suggesting they are killing our own?” Another angel rose up, this one looking more like a wolf. “ Does it not make more sense to think that the one God of Death is responsible? He is a glutton who only desires to eat sou-“

“If you speak of Ragnok, then you are misguided, Pyraxiel.” Fademus was quick to cut the wolf’s thoughts short. The dragon’s gaze was firmly upon him, both heads at that. “ Ragnok only devours the souls of the dead, not of the living. While it may be rude to say so, he is more of a vulture than a killer, and has even less reason to kill an angel than the Death Gods themselves. Humans are incapable of killing angels, and that leaves only two options. Either those of the Abyss are responsible…”

Pyraxiel rose to his full height, the hair over his body standing on end. “Do you dare suggest that we are doing away with our own? That is blasphemy, fanciful blasphemy!” He growled, fangs bared. “How dareyou suggest such an outrageous thing! For an angel to strike down another, that is unspeakable!” Through the stands and seats, murmurs and nods spread, and activity was beginning to raise into a fever again.

Beside him, Darius nodded. “It would indeed be an unspeakable horror for an angel to strike down another. There is no excuse for that, and while I hope beyond hope that is not the case, we cannot rule it out. We are all brothers and sisters in arms, but such a thing as cold hearted murder cannot be ignored.”

Cercil’s eyes furrowed. Darius and Pyraxiel were like night and day, one a loner, the other a pack leader. They were both not true angels, in the sense that the Creator made them as they were, but in that they were once the souls of deceased creatures that were enlightened into their current status. Darius the owl was a cold, normally silent entity that was only active at night, so to see him during the day awake and active, meant he was dead serious about attending this meeting and knew the significance of it. Pyraxiel on the other hand was a fiery and passionate soul that emphasized on working together as a team, even when he lacked his original pack. Cercil could see the eyes hungering for revenge on the face of the wolf, and though she knew of his past, he also knew that such longing desire would be fatal. It was better to keep a calm head and rational than to allow such desire for vengeance and justice to consume them, and Darius himself had a similar look, though it was for justice and not for revenge specifically. Even more, the very prospect of angels killing angels was a notion she didn’t want to think of. She was already apprehensive enough when it came to the betrayal of their creator under the notion of self-ruling, but to kill each other? It made her sick to the stomach… “We will continue to investigate these matters, starting with the most likely causes, in which case, it would be humanity. While humans may not be able to kill an angel, they could surely-“

The doors at the base of the gathering hall burst open, and in came a walking hulk of an angel, as tall as Cercil, with eagle-like wings and claws. His head as well was like that of an eagle, and his eyes were red with rage as he hurled a large cage onto the podium before Cercil and Fademus. “Why go all the way to blame the humans when the murderer is right here for all to see!” Aarabaki screeched as he pointed an accusing finger down upon form of Mulek, wet and chained within. At once, those gathered rose to look, and the room was once more filled with murmurs, chants and exclamations.

“What is the meaning of this, Aarabaki? You bring the Black Winged one here, and claim she is at fault?” Cercil rose to her full height, bringing her staff down as she walked over to the cage. Her eyes, calm and unwavering looked at the enraged seraphim, and down at the Black Winged one. “ You know she has no business with us, and no desire to bring our wrath…”

“I saw here, over the corpse of Metatron, about to harvest his soul, down in the misty redwoods! I was there, and I saw it all.”

“You saw me chancing upon an already dead angel, you fool!” Mulek snapped back. “I didn’t kill him, I didn’t even know there was another angel in the forest!”

“Lies, absolute lies!” Aarabaki growled, rattling the cage with one clawed hand. “No one else was there. I sensed no other soul, beside your own twisted mask!” He looked away from the angel, and toward the gathered masses. “My brothers, look here! We have been so blind to the causes of the disappearances, to not take into account the wolf among our flock! We knew of Mulek, the cursed half spawn, and drove her off, for neither we or the Abyss desire such a damned and flawed being… but to think she would resort to cold hearted murder to get her revenge upon us. It is crystal clear, she is the cause of all our tribulations.” Around him, came nods and agreements, and the crowds began chanting the name of the Black Wnged one, cursing for her blood, wishing for her death, lamenting the death of Metatron…

“That is enough for now.” Cercil interrupted. This time, that was all that was needed to silence the masses. “While it may be likely that Mulek is the cause, we still do not know for certain. I will speak with the high elders on this account by myself and with Fademus. When a verdict has been reached, we will decide her fate in public, but for the time being, I will keep Mulek by my side. Until then, this meeting is adjourned. Thank you for your participation and you are all dismissed.” She turned, and grabbed the cage, ignoring the shouts and rants directed at her.

A clawed hand grabbed her by the shoulder. “What do you think you are doing, Cercil?” Aarabaki screeched, head feathers raised on end. “She is obviously the cause! Why do you insist on delaying her justice?”

Cercil looked back at him. “Because I do not want to bring an angel to death for something they haven’t done, even if it is the Black Winged one. We have no evidence, only what you say happened, and while I wish to believe you.. more evidence is required. It is simple as that.” And with that, she left with Fademus, dragging the cage with her and leaving Aarabaki there, confused and bitter.

“What… is she doing?” Pyraxiel said as he came up beside the eagle. On the other side was Darius, who shook his head.

“Is it not obvious? She thinks there is more to it than the eagle thinks, that it is not as black and white as that. I do not know who is right, but justice in the end will show itself…”