Author:
Zenra, Icewind, Goddess.
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Date Posted: 23:21:22 09/15/02 Sun
In reply to:
First Angel
's message, "Final Battle, Part 3" on 22:37:57 09/15/02 Sun
"Yes. Damn me."
sparks flew everywhere, glittering off her starburst eyes as though a shower of comets.
She moved back after the initial clash, golden wings spread out in full defensive poise, ready for an all out assault of the man, even as he spoke, his own wings spread full span like a bird of prey.
"You may have created us, but you do not own us."
Her form hallooed in a silvery light, emenating from her very own soul. A light that burned with a holy fire, even as Ceallac changed to his true form. (*thinks Ganon*) Her eyes changed too, a platinum hue crossing over them, flecked with small bursts of rainbow colors.
Songs of prayers echoed in her mind's eye, and she revelled in it. "How dare -you-. Even as your true colors show, I defy you. As before. I defy, and deny you. You will -not- have my soul."
The silvery aura around her exploded, licking flame tongues of holy about her form. Her dove gray hair lifted in the nonwind, the White Wind on her head flashing like a small star, pulsing with the pure essence of Zorahar.
May God have mercy on me. I'll probably die here, but should that be...it truely was an honor to be chosen.
The Icewind itself glowed from within with a blueish hue, even as Ceallac dove for her, every weapon on his being poised for striking. Her eyes narrowed, and she moved from his reach, once...twice...
Then she felt a tug, a pull in her hand, and she gripped the dagger there, even as the Icewind came up and blocked where her wings could not. It wasn't time. Not yet.
The scene was a frenzy, and the same pull and tug persisted on her hand, as though the very had of God was trying to take the dagger from her, but she resisted, parry here, dodge there. Mercuric speed was all that was really saving her. Coupled with the essence of Zorahar, she still wasn't fast enough to strike. there was only one way.
She rushed Ceallac, at speeds beyond her control. Even as golden metal wings rang with the clashing of claws against them, she wasn't winning. There truely was only one way.
A tear ran down her cheek, and she darted up to head level with Ceallac with a great flap of her wings. Then, finally, she flipped the dagger in her hand to blade down, and plunged it straight down for the wierd eye that the infinity had made. Even as a huge taloned hand swiped her, knocking her sword up against her leg and the claws sinking into the flesh and muscle, she held true to her aim for that wierd eye, as though the hand of God was guiding it as well.
You...die....
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