Pillars of the Angels: Sword of Blood

5: Stupid Risks

Cesta jumped out of bed at the sound of her door slamming open. Screams came through the door like a blast of air. She saw Andre in full Order armor, and he motion for her to get dressed. She could see flames through the door, and looked at Andre.

“The Caustic have arrived at Eres,” He explained. “get into armor, and head to the Great Hall. Verita will give you your assignment. The Guildclash has reached us.” Cesta reached underneath her cot as Andre left the room. She pull out the pure white armor of the Order, a Simple Astren embolized on the right shoulder. She quickly put it on, the natural magic within the metal helping.

She left the house to see almost half the island in flames, and the laughter of the Caustic. The smoke floated high up into the air, colored purple, as magic was helping it burn. She turned around to the Great Hall, and began to run towards it. as she did so, the distance seemed to elongate. Darkness enclosed on her vision, and eventually the entire world disappeared.

A voice laughed, deep and booming, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. It had an inherent air of evil, and just hearing it made Cesta’s head hurt. Her armor was gone, replaced with normal farmer peasant clothes, and ragged ones at that. Not this again, she thought, the infernal laughter continuing.

“Welcome back Cesta,” it said, its voice like two stones grating together. “It has been a while. Not that you probably missed me. Or attempted to remember. In fact, if I was you, I would try to suppress all memories of me.” Cesta gritted her teeth. That dumb Dark Voice, as it liked to be called. For about two weeks it hadn’t interrupted her sleep, and she was beginning to feel hope that it was gone.

“Gone,” it said incredulously, listening to Cesta’s thoughts. “Oh no, I wasn’t gone. I was gathering strength. The protection...oh, never mind, you wouldn’t understand.” She began to take a couple steps, hoping the motions would help her deal with the Dark Voice. If there was only a way to get rid of it!

“Oh, Cesta, I’m hurt! Why should you want to get rid of me? It’s not like every time I talk to you, I wish horrors upon you. I only try to make every sleeping moment of your’s a waking nightmare.” Cesta looked up into what she thought was the sky.

“Why do you insist on torturing me,” she screamed, even though thinking it would have worked. She was tired of the Voice, and its constant taunts. As if she could do anything about it.

“Why do I torture you? So, when fate takes its course, and you attempt to stop my plans, you’ll remember. So you’ll remember what happens when you cross me, and so you will never do so again. I will rise, Presence of War!” The voice shook the very ground Demstri stood on, throwing her to the ground. She laid there, hoping that the voice would stop.

Unfortunately, it didn’t, but it began to yell in an intelligible language, one that had been lost to Belizen for centuries. Cesta felt tears run down her cheeks, the Voice finally getting to her. Her past has been to much, and the Voice was a remnant, one that Cesta wished didn’t exist. Then, as quickly as daybreak, her sorrow turned into fury. If she ever got the chance, she was going to kick the Dark Voice in the...

CRASH!

Cesta rolled off the inn’s bed, instantly falling into a battle stance. When it was apparent that no one was in her room, she stood up. Daylight was barely filtering through the transmuted glass in the wall, and she reached under her bed. She grabbed the pack she had hidden there, and swung it onto her shoulder. She grabbed her straight sword, strapped it to her waist, and opened the door.

She walked out into the hallway, and immediately noticed a door lying in front of hers, blown out by something. She looked down the hallway, and saw an open doorway, and black robed figures entering. Cesta, approached cautiously, and stood by the door, listening in.