Divine Intervention (Marina/Ingeras)

[Ingeras Drăculea]

For two months, Ingeras had been stationed in Arnul to assist in the reconstruction efforts. There were few of Ingeras’ trusted lieutenants with him, who were bestowed sun rings before departure to ensure that assistance from Sylthanis could be counted on in the event of daylight attacks from the dragons. Since the damage done to Arnul at the hands of Samael’s horde, a substantial amount of the forest was destroyed. Forests scorched, wildlife killed, and the ecosystem severely shifted due to the fires. Many of Ingeras’ trusted friends lived in Arnul. Friends that were part of the Sylthanis Royal Reserve, who lost family within the dragon attacks to capture Ingeras’ sister, Katya. Due to the damage, the werebeasts of Arnul were provided help in the reconstruction effort. An effort that has cost the Prince alone thousands of pounds in gold from his own private vaults. The greatest cost came from hiring the witches that could restore the life to the damaged forests, something that would take more than just one powerful witch to accomplish.


Werewolf and vampire both began working in shifts as the reconstruction began. As soon as fresh trees were grown, houses could soon be rebuilt. Spending great expense on the project, Ingeras hired witches to craft special hexes upon the forests that would help the forest, itself become stronger and more resilient in the event of another attack. By the time the second month was drawing close to its end, Ingeras had managed to accomplish over half of the restoration of the forest. Many of the witches were capable of reviving many of the wild life in the area, allowing Ingeras to project the ending of the reconstruction to be sooner than expected. The assistance of the werebeasts of Arnul was vital in the war against Samael, and with the blunder of the Dragon King’s army in destroying part of Arnul, many werebeasts would want revenge. This allegiance would give Sylthanis the advantage they needed against the dragons. Compared against the other, a werewolf was capable of greater strength than the average vampire, and they were capable of ripping through solid concrete with little issue. There were more than just the wolves, but most werebeasts were known for their strength over anything else.


Sitting over a hilltop from the construction encampment on his horse, Kylo, he was thinking about his mother, one of the few times he would allow himself to think of her. Although he would not admit it, he knew he missed her, and the thought of the barbaric Samael killing her instilled a great rage inside of him. Watching the sunset always settled his fury and allowed a more hollow feeling to settle in. It was an empty feeling, but he welcomed it. He embraced it. But as the sun began to set, and darkness fell over the densely forested lands, the warmth of the light never left. Ingeras looked to his hands to notice where a piece of his skin was showing was glowing. Removing his glove, he took notice to the glow of his hand, and the warmth that he felt from it. It was the same as his mother’s warmth. The same warmth that kept him warm as a child on cold nights. As innocence returned to memory, the rest of his mind was consumed in confusion. Removing his other glove, he found that his left hand was also glowing a moonlit illumination.


Stepping from Kylo, he walked to a nearby pond, where he saw that his skin was glowing within the reflection, but more-so, he felt a sharp pain in his back, and for a moment, he fell to the ground. “No...I...am not one of them...he hissed with disgust at the reference of the them, trying to focus the inner darkness within him to counteract the light within him. “I am the Son of the Impaler, the Angel of Death, King of Sylthanis, not a being of light!” Ingeras flattened his hands against the ground, and formed two inverted pentagram sigils on the back of his hands. However, a few seconds later, the sigils were fazed out. A few more seconds after that, two enormous black wings erupted from Ingeras’ back, causing him to groan in pain, but not cry out. He did not want his men to see him like this. The words that would be said if the Prince of Sylthanis, Heir to the Throne, was seen with the blackened wings of an angel. “What...is this?” He thought, pondering what could be causing his dormant angelic half to come out so effortlessly.

[Mari]

She had watched him from afar long enough to know where he was. It seemed from the outside that her death had been a footnote to him. A chapter in his life that he read past, barely absorbing it as he went for the more action driven aspects of his life.

Was she really THAT bad of a parent? She asked herself mentally as she bit her lip. If she had been of less stern stuff the thought might have been agonizing but after so many millenia she had learned that all a parent could do was their best. If their children mocked and hated them after they were adults then their behavior was on them. That was why when Katya chose to be reborn Mari refused to see it as a slight. Katya had been an adult and made her decision regardless of what had transpired before whatever she did now was on her.

The same would be said of Ingeras. He would live or die by his actions and he would be judged by them. It was time he remembered who and what she was. It took a mere thought to bring her to that pond and even less for her energies to wash over him and wake him up. She had no doubt that he would attack her. Her children by Vlad saw violence as a default setting rather than an option and so this time she would make sure that he did not get the jump on her like his father had.

It was time for him to grow up and put away this twisted hero worship of a man who wanted his son to rule as an individual. As long as he was willing to fall in lock step with his father Ingeras would never develope the strength of will to rule. As long as he abandoned his angelic heritage he would be deemed unfit to rule and so too would deny himself his birthright.

That was going to change.

As he writhed in pain her face contorted and she made herself visable, "This is your ANGELIC heritage my son. Hate it all you will, it is your legacy as much as your father's vampiric gift. You can deny it but all that will do is force it to the surface. It is time for you to embrace ALL that you are. Katya died rejecting half herself. Would you do the same?" Her face was kindly and sad, "I am sorry your nature has manifested so painfully. You would do well not to fight it. The war will only force the more subverted side to the surface. I am sorry it took me so long to return. I had to embrace my new form as well." she said simply as she stood there in a pink grecian robe, her mantle of office, an armband that grasped her upper right arm, gleamed brightly with gemstones. Her wings sparkled whitely against the rose colored gown and seemed to have every color of the rainbow shining in their multi-winged depths.

Her beauty was dimmed for his eyes but she was no less splended for that. Any who saw her would know her for the Queen of Sylthanus and nothing less. Her dark hair and eyes reflected in his own (abit a slightly warped funhouse mirror of a reflection at that.). Ingeras, the child she'd hoped would exibit some of her traits had fought them in ways that Katya had save that where Katya hated he loved. Where Katya saw greed he saw power. How her children could be so different in their viewpoints and yet so alike baffled her.

She was a failure.

Forgive them Father. They know not what they do.

She prayed skyward for a moment as she waited to see what sort of reception she would get from her youngest male child.