Rohan slowly stood up, dusting off his cloak.
“Glad that’s over…”
Rohan slowly stood up, dusting off his cloak.
Æyapel hovered down, before converting back to Æhnyir’s form. It stood there silent, looking at the place where they disappeared with many questions in its head.
Raphael stared at the heap of smoking armor in solemn silence.
“…He ignited his magicka and self-destructed. It was the only spell within his limited capability that was powerful enough to banish The Magician.
He sacrificed his life, to save ours. And many more…” Raphael said, removing his helmet as he bowed his head on mourning.
Raphael turned and stared back at Æyapel as they turned back into Æhnyir. “Errapel, I-” he tried to say, before Errapel disappeared back into Æhnyir. Raphael sighed sadly, turning back around.
Meanwhile, the Plague doctor cultists stood aghast, unsure of what had just happened or what to do now. They stared at the group in silent fear.
The phoenix bowed its head and uttered a sad coo, a silver teardrop landing on the pile of ashen armor.
The teardrop seeped into the seal of Sancte Michael exercitus Dei on Hydronicus’ chestplate, which briefly glowed ever so faintly before fading. Although Hydronicus’ body could not have been revived, his soul and spirit were now bound to the armor.
Arkan stood and faced the cultists, glaring at them, his Arcane Eye glowing as he watched them threateningly, the Dullahan standing behind him and facing his body that way as well.
Æhnyir looks at Raphael,
“She can still hear…if you needed to say something.”
Raphael sighed, taking a deep breath before exhaling.
“Errapel, I just wanted to say…I would have volunteered to hold down the Heavenly Kings, before you did. I wanted to do it so you wouldnt gave had to yourself.” He said.
“-But you no longer have to occupy this mortal’s body anymore. The Magician is banished, and Hydronicus’ seal will ensure that he never again escapes. You could come back with me to the Realm of Life. We all miss you…I miss you.” Raphael slowly said.
The five remaining cultists slowly kneeled down, cowering slightly.
“Please, let us go. We promise to never cause harm again. Just spare our lives and we will never be seen again.”
“There is another reason why she’s still in my body. When I went to that otherworldly realm… I died. The only reason I’ve existed for so long was because of the Magician and her being inside me, keeping me alive. It was as if two sides were constantly fighting over my body for control of it. Now that the Magician is gone there is no more a war over this construct that is my body. We are free from this fight against that being. We have spent the last hundreds of years together, where were you during that time?”
“I have my own obligations, mortal. I had to make actions to determine the fates of not just this universe, but many more. I do not have the leisure of aimlessly wandering the Earth.” He said.
“But, if Errapel truly wishes to remaineithin you, and if that is for your own good, than I shall respect your wishes…” he said to the both of them, with a hint of sadness and disappointment in his voice.
Arkan walks towards them. “Harm is all you can cause, galar ar domhanda.” He says darkly, raising his hand as it traces a Conjuration circle and the Dullahan raises its whip. “Ridding the worlds of you will only benefit the rest of us. Say your prayers to whatever you believe in. You will meet them soon.”
The Plague Doctors, unsure of what else to do, kneeled down and clasped their hands together in silent prayer.
In front of Arkan form five spikes of ice.
The Dullahan whips at each of them in lightning speed, whipping at their eyes, trying to blind them.
Once he is done, Arkan shoots an ice spike at each cultist’s skull, hoping to kill them near instantly.
The Cultists all slumped to the ground face-down, before they even knew what had happened.
Suddenly, a clapping was heard from behind.
“Well done everyone, excellent work.” Said a saint-like figure as he entered the room.
Raphael instantly knew who he was, and bowed before the saint.
Arkan simply turned his head to face them, his Arcane Eye still glowing its magical hue, while the Dullahan stood where it was, silent and still.
Rohan whipped around toward the saint.
The saint quietly chuckled to himself for a moment.
“Oh, wherever my manners? Raphael may know who I am, but you all probably don’t…” he said, as he began glowing brightly.
The Saint’s robes fell, and the grand form of Archangel Michael was revealed.
Æhnyir looks at the saint, his eyes flash blue for a second, as if something inside him was looking out of his eyes.
inside the mental/spiritual construct of Æhnyir
Æhnyir sits on a barren rock,
“So we really need to find a way to work seamlessly in this construct…so it would be ours, and not yours or mine.”
Errapel sits on a higher stone and looks down at Æhnyir,
“Give me your right eye, if we enter a combat situation I’ll lend power, and if I need to I can take the wheel for the time necessary, in which case we’ll end up in the angel state, though this wouldn’t be like our fused state, I’m afraid if we did anything like that again we might become permanently fused souls.”
“Yeah. that works, but how do we know that we aren’t already functioning as souls fused together?”
Errapel thinks about it,
“I suppose we don’t.”
Æhnyir’s right becomes blue and he focuses back on what’s happening around him, seeing Michael.
Arkan’s Eye slowly dimmed to its normal glow, then he turned to face the Archangel. He shot an ice spike at the Evocation circle on the ground, and the Dullahan bowed, his form fading from this plane of existence.
“I have come here to personally congratulate you all.” Said Michael as he stepped toward them.
“You have all done an immaculate job in stopping these Plague doctors. And now thanks to you, The Seal of Pestilence has broken and the Plague has been prevented.” He said.
“You are all heroes, and you shall all be remembered and honored as such.”