The Age Of Tranquility

Chapter 3 - Eye of Ogden

His first instinct was to run, to cower in fear from the terrifying angel, but then he realized something. He desired nothing more than to return to the dream, to the everlasting grace of Nos, and now a servant of the divine stood before him. Perhaps it had come to answer his prayer? Would it not hear his reason, or sympathize with his plight? Perhaps it only sought to return him to his glass cradle, and he had simply misunderstood everything.

The tension from his muscles faded, and he finally released his breath in a frosty cloud. The curator was not his pursuer, after all, but his savior.

As it approached, the angel's eye shone brilliantly, and a burning spear of golden light suddenly seared towards him. He threw himself aside as it collided with the heavy gate, singing its metal doors. The foundations rumbled while the stained-glass window shattered to bits, raining jagged shards across the floor.

As dust and debris drifted down like snow, he accepted the cold and bitter truth. They would not let him return to sleep. He was forsaken. He had sinned, and this angel was his judgment.

The sudden threat of a final death brought too many questions to mind, and no time to ask them, for the armored goliath was attacking again. Instead of another arrow, there was a familiar hum, and a ring of light encircled him once more. He panicked as his legs grew heavy, realizing he would not be able to dodge, and the ivory creature hovered forward without mercy.

Denied his only defense, the man had no choice but to attack. He gripped his dagger in desperation, but suddenly recalled another long-forgotten lesson, another novice spell, one so obvious that he could hardly believe he'd overlooked it. With a rush of conviction, he thrust his crystal-tipped staff forward, casting a similar arrow of light towards the angel at blinding speeds.

The spell raced through the chill air, struck the angel's chest, and instantly vanished. The projectile barely scratched the ivory armor and did nothing to stop its approach. He balked as the angel responded with another flash, and a spear of light seared directly at the center of his chest. He could not lift his feet, so he reactively dropped to his knees and covered himself in a pathetic defense.

Fortunately, his cowering actually worked, and the spell's heat grazed his back as it flew overhead. It burst across the marble wall and blackened its pristine tiles, while the mortal dared to raise his quivering gaze.

There was a third flash of light as another spear launched, this time aimed at his feet. In a rush of panic, he stood to run, but the angel's tranquil spell had yet to wear off, and his legs dragged uselessly against the floor as it erupted beneath him. The man was flung through the air and slammed against an unrelenting wall, where he collapsed in a heap, arms and legs numb, vision swimming.

This time, he did not try to stand, for it was of no use. He was powerless in the presence of this divine being. His spells were nullified, his strength inferior. There was no point in fighting any longer. As the light drew closer, the man shut his eyes and curled into a ball, hugging the staff to his chest for comfort.

His hand brushed a moving segment at the top of the catalyst, and despite the gripping hopelessness, curiosity got the better of him. He opened one eye to inspect the silver cane, discovering a thin ring lying just below the crystalline pommel. Suddenly, from the dim memories of his mortal life, he recalled this style of weapon, a unique invention from the scholars of Falmour.

More importantly, he remembered how to use it.

Moving by instinct, he twisted the ring and swung, and the segments of the staff separated to form a chained whip. The silver rods struck the angel's hip with blunt force, emitting a sharp crack as it connected with its crystal veins, visibly surprising the guardian. It glided backwards across the floor in sudden alarm, filling the man with a dangerous confidence, and he rose to press the attack. He ignored his heavy footsteps as he charged forward.