Fate and the Defiant Angel (COMPLETED)

Part 5- The defeat

Ariel gasped in pain, pulling out the small dagger from her side and stifling her yells of pain. She couldn't let them hear her. She sat hidden in a hallway, with her life essence trickling out of her and fading away. Just like she was.

She was dying.

Ariel was one of the original thirteen, and she had far greater healing capabilities then any normal angel. She could heal from anything practically. However, that was if she was given time and a place to rest. She had no such luxuries at the moment.

Her wings were tattered on her back, filled with holes and tears that made them useless. Her left leg was mangled, ripped to shreds and unwalkable. She'd lost her left hand to a Protector with dead eyes and a large axe. Then there were the stab wounds decorating her body, so many times over and over.

So, she'd run. It was more like a hobble then anything else. She had left the battlefield because she had already lost. Ariel hadn't realised that the others, once her family, were making new angels with no souls. They had a constant supply on soldiers, while hers only dwindled.

She had lost.

And she was dying.

She leaned her head against the wall, her chest rattling as she breathed. She wanted to close her eyes and rest. It was over. No one was left. Every friend she'd had, everyone she'd loved, was all gone and dead. Ariel was alone.

Her eyes drifted shut but she hissed at herself, snapping her eyes open and dragging herself to her feet. Every step was agonising, but she reached such a state of pain she couldn't possibly experience anymore. She dragged herself down the corridor. She knew these floors and how to move them, she'd designed it.

She knew where they were creating their slave army.

It seemed like hours before she found herself in front of the door. There were no guards, everyone possible were slaying every angel who had a soul. Her siblings had already killed their own forces, removing even the people who had supported them simply because of their soul. They had even gotten to the point where they didn't need to guard their resources. Ariel's army had long since stopped scavenging secrets and laying traps, instead simply struggling to survive.

The door opened with a slight push and she found herself in a dimly lit room.

Lining the walls were pale, nude figures. They all shared the same features, practically indistinguishable from each other. White hair and white wings. They didn't move as Ariel made her way inside, not yet awake. She looked in intrigue at the wires attached to the back of their skulls, before reeling in revulsion when she saw they were inside their skulls. She walked to the end, focusing on the angel on the last row.

It had feminine feature but was still bland in colour and features.

Ariel reached out a hand, cupping the angel's cheek gently. The new angel's skin was ice cold.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you a better life," Ariel whispered, not only to the angel in front of her, but to every single soulless being that they'd created. She had failed.

But she was not giving up. They had won the battle, but not the war. Ariel needed to be there, needed to still be alive to be able to stop them. She couldn't die on this day.

So, she pulled forth the small dagger in her boot and stabbed herself in the chest. She grunted at the pain, not realising how difficult this would be. She slowly, and agonisingly, dragged the knife down her chest until a large open wound remained. That was when she reached in a grabbed it.

Her soul.

She had always had an affinity with souls. She knew where they hid in the body, knew how to rip them out of people. She'd always had such a respect for souls and their intricate beauty. She had removed souls from bodies, she had done such a thing with Seraphina, but she never expected she would be doing it on herself. She dragged out the golden ball of light, feeling as if she was cutting her veins open and breaking her bones. It did not want to be ripped out and moved.

Ariel stared at her hand, watching the glowing ball of everything she was. She glanced up at the blank slate of an angel in front of her and pushed the light into her chest. The angel grunted, shuddering slightly before returning still.

The body of the thirteenth angel collapsed in a pile after that. Broken, empty and hollow. It remained there until angels found it.

Victory had been declared throughout the realm. The twelve removed any remains of the thirteenth angel. The victors wrote history. The realm restructured and changed. Emotion was stripped away, replaced with cold efficiency.

And the newly born Azzarra watched it all.