Thy Will Be Done (Angels)

[Marcus Gallagher]

Only just a few years erected and the Crystal Citadel felt like his true home. Marcus was but one of the first recruits to walk through the Citadel’s doors and endure the trials of Paladins. One of the first places Marcus, walked past on his way inside the Citadel, were the recruit barracks. It was mandatory of recruits to fight alongside the entrance, to give them awareness towards the reality of what they have signed up for. Marcus recalled many nights spent guarding the entrance, the sound of chisels working through the night to etch the Enochian sigils onto the fort, while the dust from the chiseling was collected for alchemical uses. The tools used to etch in the sigils were made from a more condensed version of the same minerals that designed the walls. The crystal ore of the Citadel was found only in the Heavenly realms, and were used as the “Pearly Gates” of many of the Heavenly universes of the Angels. The ore was purified for easier use in smithing, but was always further condensed upon completions of each portion, to ensure maximum durability. Now, not even dragon’s fire could dream of melting these walls, and the mystical defenses rivaled that of even the most powerful draconic spellweavers. It was a symbol of humanity’s defense against the forces of darkness, and a force to be respected by its allies as it was feared by its enemies.



At the heart of the Crystal Citadel stood the Cathedral, a place of prayer and sanctuary for those seeking it. Above all, the Cathedral acted as a conduit between the mortals and the angels in Heaven. No matter the angel, they would hear the mortal’s prayer. Paladins came here often to pray and receive revelation from Sariel, or the other angels in their next mission. Marcus stood at the threshold of the Cathedral before removing his helmet. Placing it to his side, he walked past the stone pews towards the center of the room. Light shined upon the various statues of Angels that were built into the pillars and walls and ceiling from a crystal dome, the likes of which invited peaceful feelings and thoughts into the hearts of any that basked within the light. Marcus knelt in the light, placing his helmet before him and bowing his head.



“Angels of the Heavens,” he asked in a soft, quiet voice, “I stand ready to do thy bidding. Put my mortal body and lost soul to use, and set me to my task towards salvation. Be with me in my endeavors, and with the helpless souls crying out for salvation. Let my sword be the tool of light, to cut through the darkness that would seek to set itself upon these innocents, and keep my focus and aim true.” Keeping his eyes closed, he lifted his head to face to clear dome above, and to allow the light to touch all features of his face as he opened his arms outward to embrace the will and revelation of the angels. “Redeem this lost soul, and make it worthy of your grace, and strengthen its faith.” In that moment, his sacred armor illuminated brightly within the Cathedral, as he felt the descent of the angels.

[Katya Drăculea]

Quite some time passed between her soul ascending to the heavens and the end of the war. Samael was victorious in his conquest and the vampire king was left shattered and disorganized. The king was absent his throne, accepting the role he was given and the son Ingeras would fill his shoes. Yet she no longer had much interest in that, her mission was Sariel's mission out of loyalty and love for what she did. Without Sariel she would be a slave still to the conflict within her but no more was she chained to her old life. As an angel she felt lighter, more sure of herself than she had ever been before. All she needed was for the torment to end and one side of her heritage to overcome the other. Raising her arms to the endless skies above her in the heavens she listened as she was instructed to do.

Not long after she opened her heart and mind to them, the humans reached out. There were special humans now, those cleansed by the Archangel herself and crafted into champions. Their souls resonated loudest among the other humans and could contact the heavens. One such voice touched her mind this day as she stirred from her reverie, his voice echoing inside of her entire being. He sought clarity of purpose, to be guided and have his sword arm aim true towards the hearts of their foes. Yet she had nothing new to give him other than the information that Lich activity was increasing. Somehow the plague was not being contained as well as they had hoped.

Her wings wrapped around her lithe form lovingly as she vanished from the heavens and stood before him. Her garb was not modest in the least. She wore a grey toga-esque style dress, however, the skirt was rather short. Only one strap held the fabric over her chest as it was pinned over her right shoulder. The other half of her chest was covered by some thin, shimmering piece of clothing that resembled some sort of chain mail. Her wings opened slowly, their color reflecting the light in the chamber to create a soft yet unnatural glow about them. Somehow she had become more beautiful than she had previously been as a vampire which was astonishing to her.

Pale green eyes examined the man, carefully taking stock of the power within him. "Your soul is tormented indeed. Yet your intentions are pure and known to our lady." she spoke. Her voice was strangely melodical as she spoke, as if she were almost singing the words. Every time she noticed something like this she marveled at the changes, on Yalanze she felt much different than when she was closer to the source. "I wish it were good news I bore for you, yet in such troubled times there is much darkkness we must confront. The plague is moving, it's corrupted agents writhing out from the source and seekking new hosts." she said.

Walking forward, Katya crouched down and placed a hand on either side of the mans face. "Your people need you to be confident in your choices. Many more must join you in the days to come if we have any hope of stopping them." she said.

[Marina Drăculea]

The cries of Marcus had echoed within her and she had been surprised to hear their call. Still further was the urging of the Creator, a voice she had not heard in far too long, calling her to do his work. She was still an angel, still part of the grand scheme of things and although her job now was to heal the heart as much as the mind she did enjoy her job as the Goddess of Love and Hope. It helped her survive the long days when everything had seemed so dark. It kept her grounded and gave her the focus to give others hope that the sorrows of the past would indeed pass away and that good would come to them once more even as the land was ravaged by the Lich.

And so it was that she arrived in front of Marcus, wings open in all their glory as her willowy form solidified from the golden light by which she travelled. Her form was wreathed in a pink gown of silk that was modest but delicate and pretty. Indeed for those she visited she sometimes took the form that they might most relate to if she needed to speak with them. "Greetings, Marcus. I see you have a visitor already." she murmured with a warm smile to Katya. She did not know how her daughter felt about her. She'd felt abandoned by her if truth be told and yet she knew this too would pass in time. Children often were at odds with their parents and she hoped that some day she and Katya would at last find common ground. She'd had a role to play as much as Katya had and she'd done her duty to the Creator and continued to do so in her own way.

And yet she did not know what good she could do here in this place at this moment. Warriors needed training and guidance and she had always been the one to offer hope. "Is your heart heavy, Marcus?" she asked him softly. Her words as gentle as a summer breeze and as light as sunlight through the trees. She did not mean to make him feel sorrow and hoped that her presence would be a balm to those that needed her.

She'd only ever wanted to be useful and do her duty. And yet seeing her daughter in her angelic glory she wondered why Katya had been meant to be the daughter of Vlad and not Ian. What was the grand plan for her child by her husband of darkness? Mari did not know but she hoped it would be something that would give her daughter peace and the serenity she'd never found as a hybrid. She raised an eyebrow to Katya in question, uncertain as to whether the other woman wished to be acknowledged as Mari's child or if she wished to be independent and her own woman. She knew Katya loved her but she'd hated her life in Sylthanus so it left Mari with an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. Did she resent her? Would Mari even know if she did? It was so easy to have layers of emotions when dealing with family.

[Marcus Gallagher]

Marcus felt the touch of an angel on his face as he knelt. They were always so tender and gentle in their grasps, as if every person they touched was a baby, or simply fragile. “Every day, I am visited by the faces of my victims in some form, or another,” Marcus explained to Katya, “whether reinforced by MacNair, or not, they were of my choice. I no longer feel burdened by them though.” His voice went soft, wrapped in a humbled sincerity as he spoke of feeling no burden towards his memories. Another voice stirred nearby and he saw another angel close by. It was customary for one angel to appear before a Paladin, but to see two was a true blessing. When Marcus took a gaze upon the second angel, he slowly rose with Katya, and took gaze upon her. “You are not the angel, who married Death?” He asked, although, he soon realized that he may have been too forward, and with a goddess of all beings!

“Forgive my blunt questioning, my thoughts vacate mouth too fast for me to catch, I do not mean to offend.” The Dusk Treaty, or the Dov-Diil Geind to many draconic historians within the Balfaer Kingdom were signed into effect in the final days of the war. Although both parties seemed bitter to finish this fight prematurely, they acknowledged that they would only bring about the end times, had their fight continued. The Treaty declared that Balfaer would not only assist in remaining restorations to Arnul, brought about within the war, but also pay a notable sum towards those that lost much within the war. Word went that Samael personally helped in bringing about new life into the land, but many claimed that he sent soldiers instead. Although the Paladins were vocally against leaving Sylthanis be, it was at the behest of the Heavenly Host, that they did not raise their blades against them. Many believed that it meant Marina Draculea, Zadkiel, was the voice behind this deed. He would not press though, for whatever the reason, the Host were righteous in their judgement and the Paladins have since left Sylthanis be, as their new King reached out in many relations to the nations of the world.

“I just need to know something, as it has been bothering me for some time,” he began, “is MacNair dead? I saw the Lich devour him in battle, but part of me feels as if he is somehow still alive. It’s as if he is still out there, and he is still laughing.” He did his best to overcome the brush of fear within, and when he placed his hands on Katya’s, he felt all doubts wash from mind, as if he knew what to do again. He looked into Katya’s eyes and what he saw took his mind far from Yalanze. He could see the birth of new life, new planets, and new galaxies and so forth from within her eyes. Within her gaze was eternity, and Marcus was trapped there. For him, an attosecond became eternity, and the size of an atom become the size of a universe. Breaking contact brought his mind, or soul, back to the Citadel. Marcus had not felt in such a way since he took in the blood of Sariel to become a Paladin. Although Marcus was lost into Eternity once again, he was able to break the bond.

[Katya Drăculea]

The amount of humility that radiated from this man was impressive. He took no credit for his role here and he did not have the pride to think that he alone could overcome what had happened. The very fact that he still could recall the faces of those harmed was a sign that he was worth saving. Sariel made an excellent choice when she plucked him from the field and placed him here. It was amusing to think really, that they were now almost like the Valkyrie in norse mythology now, taking wounded warriors from the field for a higher cause. Releasing him as he stood, she gazed into his eyes for what felt like an eternity even if it were only mere moments. Her divinity ensared his senses and allowed him to see a brief view of the world around them. "You carry them with you, always, and that shows how far you have risen. They were but a lesson and the test is soon upon you." she said. Then she too followed his gaze as she felt another presence in the room. She did not confirm nor deny his question to her as she merely looked on passively. She was not here for reunions, despite bearing her mother no ill will anymore.

When the dust settled and he asked more questions of them she gave pause. There were certain things she was unsure if she should tell him. Sariel chose what she was allowed to reveal and how much the paladin's needed to know about their task at any given time. It seemed wrong not to fully entrust them with every detail as they risked much but she understood the reasoning too. If they were felled by the Lich horde they would have no true knowledge to use against their brothers. Yet McNair's life was not in that category, still she feared it might destroy the mans focus. Either way she had no answer to his question but the queen of Sylthanus might as they took refuge in the black wood. Conceeding the question to Zadkiel, she had no true answer for him and feared that she might say more than she should.

Instead she took in the presence of her mother. Sariel told her that she would be different, that her enegies no longer felt the same. Perhaps that was why she did not know that she was coming before she materialized in the room with them. Her aura and resonance was much different. It was almost as if one could not hear the angelic core within her at all but if you listened you could hear it. It resonated so much faster that it was almost undetectable to her at all. Her power was now far beyond that of an angel, most likely even beyond that of the archangels. Yet she still chose to throw her lot in with them, her who wielded the power of the gods. Who knew what the will of such power was, little was known about the Creche or where it came from. Was it a sentient being? Did it create this universe on it's own and if so then was their creator not the omega? Was there more than one being with such magnificent power?

[Marina Drăculea]

She should not have been surprised that she would be known by being connected to Vlad instead of being her own person but she was. It took her a moment to figure out how best to respond to the question, “Yes, though I was married to him for thousands of years before he became Death.” She stated simply, folding her hands in front of her quietly.

Nodding quietly she agreed with Katya’s assessment of the man and his accomplishments. It was nice to be of the same accord as her daughter rather than at odds with her. It was an all too rare feeling and one that she hoped would continue for at least a short while.

Hearing him blurt out his questions about the demon McNair she canted her head to the side, “My sister and daughter have granted you a higher purpose than to hunt down one being. It would be wise for you to turn your thoughts from such and focus on your true path. Thinking on anyone from the Lich Host gives them power. You would be wise not to even say his name since he would try to turn you into a Lich like himself in an instant were he to get it into his mind to do so.” she said gently to him, there was no anger in her words,  but kindness and the hope that her words would be heeded. “I grant you this information only so that you may guard yourself from attack. In order to do your work you must release any thoughts of vengeance from your heart. My daughter and I can speak from personal experience that it never ends well.”

She moved closer to the dark haired paladin, “I would recommend you speak with the angel known as Ian. He has healed many warriors in battle and would be able to guide you to those who have the heart and will to aid your cause. Tell him Zadkiel sent you. That should make him pause in his duties to aid you.” She offered simply. “The Creator has sent me here to give you hope. You are but the first of many and your people will look to you for guidance but know that you are not alone in this.”

[Marcus Gallagher]

Listening to their words brought clarity to his mind, and personal insight on where to start. Though the Lich were growing in numbers, there were plenty of souls out there, who had the strength and heart to be Paladins of Light. Yalanzeans of Mythregal, who were destined to wield a weapon of a Paladin. The Lich were hard to kill as it was, if killing was really what it could be called. Much research had been done, pertaining to the Lich, and what was known was that their blood was black and caused necrosis on direct contact with skin, but contact with blood made the victim turn as well. Their bites were also infectious, but Paladins needed not have any worry to this, as their blood was immune to Lich venom. Killing a Lich with conventional weaponry was next to impossible, unless it was blessed by a being of light, such as a Paladin’s blade. The creatures were also capable of regenerating lost limbs by devouring others. The more Marcus thought about these abominations, the more he saw just how direly people like him were needed. Even with their numbers, the Paladins were small in comparison to most neighboring armies as it was.

Ian, the name of an angel that he had once heard of in the ever-growing chronicles within the Paladin’s library. A healer angel, but one of the more notable ones within the circle of Paladins. A healer, but also a warrior, and one of the few angels with the power to reverse a Lich infection in the late stages before complete conversion to a Lich. He had vanished to elseworlds since the end of the war, but if the angels wanted him to seek them out, then Ian must be back on Yalanze now. Marcus knew that finding him would not be easy, but it would not be impossible either. As long as an angel was in the realm of Yalanze, a Paladin could sense them, and track them through thought alone. It was not a compass, as much as it was being threaded along by a strong feeling. “My Lady Angels, I will not tire, nor will I dare to rest until I have sought Ian out. The road is but even longer so, with the Lich set upon the Path, but the Light will shine through in the end. Order will be established.”

He spoke all of this in honesty and dedication to the cause, but he knew that this was not just events being done by just himself. He was but guided on high by the angels, like a thread being woven into the fabric of life by the divine needle. Alone, he was just a man. A broken, faithless man, but as he stood, bathed in the light of the angels, and starring Katya directly in the eyes again, he knew that he was more than just a man and that he was never alone. He broke contact with Katya’s gaze and turned to walk away, only turning to sneak one more glance at her angelic radiance as he opened the doors to the Cathedral. Mounting his horse, had inhaled and softly spoke, “Show me where you are, Ian…” as if he were whispering to a sleeping friend. Somewhere, far away on a distant and rocky shoreline, Ian opened his eyes in the exact moment that Marcus opened his, and as if he were locked on his location, Marcus took off from the exit of the Crystal Citadel. His heart was fixed on his inner light, as it lead him through the razar grain fields of the Mythregalian Plains, the mountainous regions of Arnul’s Jötunngrad, and finally to the shores of Sinsul. The seas were stirring, but one had to avoid the various sand dunes hidden throughout the landscape. Marcus had no worry of that however, as he was led by faith and wits.

Along the ocean, sat a hooded figure, cloaked in a sea-beaten brown hood, that was torn at the edges, but low enough to show only his scruffy beard. The rest of his clothing were mere rags, and makeshift sandals made from strips of leather. A normal passerby would have just thougt him a drunk vagrant that found his way to the sea, but Marcus knew to never judge a person by their appearance. For all anyone knew, it could have been Samael, himself testing the loyalty of his people, or a passerby, but even Marcus figured the Hun’Drog had better things to do than this. An angel on the other hand, were known for testing the faith of others. Marcus was not exempt from this, as a Paladin’s life was personified by faith. He walked slowly towards the ragged man, who took notice, but Marcus was well aware that the raggedy dressed man was well aware of his presence long ago. “I was told to seek you out,” Marcus spoke, kneeling before the angel in the same mannerisms and respect that he gave both Katya and Zadkiel. “Za-”


“Zadkiel? Heh, I had faith that she was still alive,” Ian interrupted with a chuckle to hide true emotional nature of relief, “but was unaware that her sensory skill in locating me had honed themselves so efficiently. You are Marcus, are you not? A Paladin of the new Order, founded in Mythregal. I can sense Sariel’s patronage coursing through your veins.” The ability to find him so quickly was indeed uncanny, but even more so, how fast this Paladin got here. Ian had been throughout many realms, helping the wounded in various wars, motivating souls to move on, so that they did not become trapped as spirits, and even assisted in averting a few end days in a realm or two. However, Yalanze was home for now. It would always be home, for however long he felt his own, personal need to be there to help the mortals like Marcus.

“Yes, I am Marcus,” he said officially, offering no sign of disrespect to the angel before him, who could probably still smite him, despite being a healing angel, “I was told you might hold the key in fighting the Lich…”

When Marcus mentioned the Lich, Ian’s face went dark. The first place he had returned to, was Necropolis to pay respects to Zadkiel’s body, but instead found abominations running amok, feasting on the corpses of the dead from the war. There was only two things that Ian heard louder than anything, the first being the silence all around Necropolis, and the second being the sound of the never-ending waves of gnawing, and the smacking of legions of tongues on the flesh of the recently deceased. More-so, what he saw next was enough to drive the likes of an angel like Ian to the shores of Sinsul. “There are souls in Necropolis, Marcus,” Ian spoke gravely, a tone of voice that no mortal should ever hear from an angel, as it was like reality breaking in a person’s guts, “souls that died from the war, who have not crossed over. They’re trapped in Necropolis, being harvested by Nergal to fuel his own power. Legions of innocent souls, set to fade out of existence and digested as energy in an undead thing that does not belong on this plane.”

What Marcus was hearing sounded far from a plan, but as he heard the words, he could hear that voice in his head again. The laughing voice telling him that it was hopeless. “Do you believe that it is over, angel?” Marcus asked. Looking the Paladin in the eyes, Ian slowly shook his head, and with a straight face said, “Nothing is impossible. Even in the deepest darkness, there is always a path to light. Seeing you here shows me that, a soul that has been so tormented. Never give up hope, Marcus. Though you may hear the voices of the unclean laughing, we are there too, and we will never leave you blinded.” Ian placed a hand on Marcus’ armored gloved and smiled softly before nodding reassuringly. “I must find more like me,” Marcus said, “more to become Paladins.” Ian nodded before shifting his wings outwards and placing a hand on Marcus’ shoulder, “We are always with you Marcus. For now, I must relay what I’ve seen to the Heavenly Host. Relay what you know to the Paladin Order, and find the others.” Ian had already ascended into Heaven long before Marcus had time to mentally process the angel’s absence before him. Mounting his horse, he rode off, knowing that he had work to do.