The Demon's Fate The Endborr Chronicles

Introduction

Damien walked through the field of yellow poppies letting the flowers brush against his hands as he walked. The poppies glowed in the sun's rays, reflecting the light back up to the sky. A slight breeze played across the field. Damien hadn't tried to blend in with the flowers as he probably should have. Demons normally didn't walk out in the open in the middle of the day but then again Damien wasn't a normal Demon.
Damien was pale-skinned, his skin more like snow than real skin. His messy black hair and clear blue eyes stood out in his pale face. He wore all black, from his shirt to his boots, contrasting to his pale skin making it seem paler. His dark attire made him look like an ink blot in the swirling field of yellow.
Damien's fingers ran through the flowers, petals swaying with each touch. A large shadow passed overhead. Damien froze, his fingers still on the flowers, as the five figures descended and landed in front of him in the field.
"What do you want Magathor?" Damien carefully picked a large yellow poppy and twirled it between his thumb and forefinger.
"We came for you, Damien Amonson." The leader of the group stood with his hands on his hips and an evil smile playing on his lips. Magathor was tall, tan, with glowing ivory-yellow hair. His large ivory-colored, and ornamented, coat and long scarves billowed out around him. The other four in the wore less lavish white outfits similar to Magathor's. All five of them had large white, ivory for Magathor, wings sprouting out of their shoulders.
Magathor raised his arms up slightly and the four angels moved towards Damien with hands spread apart. Between their hands a line of electricity sprouted.
Damien's eyes widened and his face showed pure terror. The poppy slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground as her turned and began to run. Poppy plants whipped around him, the bright yellow petals flying behind him. The angels flew after Damien, their electric ropes crackling and whipping out trying to grab Damien. Poppies exploded as the angels missed Damien by mere inches. One of them got in a closer shot and the rope sizzled as it made contact with the bare skin on Damien's right arm. He cried out as white-hot pain flared though his body. He stumbled for a moment and held his wound before continuing to run. Another flair of pain blossomed on his back as a rope end flicked against him.
Damien fell to him knees and doubled over groaning. His arms shook as he held himself up. Magathor landed in front of him, thick ivory-tipped boots glinting malevolently in the sun. Damien turned his pale face up to look into Magathor's dark eyes, a fierce fire of victory and malice danced in them. Damien shivered with his whole being as Magathor raised one hand over Damien's dark head. There was a bright flash and a blinding pain at the base of his head before the world blackened and he fell over onto a bed of crumpled poppies.