Chapter 16

The duo ran to the outskirts of the forest up until they could no longer continue. Their destination was a dusty mountaintop that overlooked one of the great human cities. A tall sheer cliff face raced down the right side of the path.

They stopped alongside a large tan boulder in order to rest. Donovan stood keeled over with his hands upon his knees. He was panting heavily and had trouble keeping his breaths even. His small female companion was not as exhausted as the brooding warrior, but she was still a bit winded from their hasty retreat.

Donovan struggled to speak, "What exactly… was that…. person…? I've never seen… a creature… like it."

"As he said, he was a Sylvan. I've only heard about them from the seraphim, but I know that they belong to the family of the trees. The Sylvan are protectors of the mystic forests. I thought they were gentle creatures, and not at all violent like that 'Centient' we… I should say you, fought with."

She continued, "Do you think there are more of them within those woods? Are there female Sylvans? Are they pretty like spring flowers, or are they all ugly like that male? He was not very attractive at all, nothing like the beautiful tree of my home."

"I… can't say… that I know…" The warrior took a few more moments to catch his breath. He asked a question regarding her initial response, "Seraphim? What seraphim? Like winged angels?"

"The Gilly often converse with the seraphim. They teach us many things about the world around us. We do not have the benefit of years of history nor any amount of experience to draw from. It is because of them that I know so much about the world of man."

"What do these seraphim look like?"

"They look very similar to you men, but with giant feathered wings upon their backs. They float upon the air with no effort, and you can see right through their cloud-like bodies. Their voices are quite melodic, and very very soothing. I often fall asleep during their visits."

"Are they from Heaven?"

Another ethereal voice spoke in place of the young girl, "Yes… we are from Heaven."

Donovan spun around. On the other side of the great boulder was a shrouded white man hovering several inches above the ground. His thin arms were outstretched towards the duo, and his spindly palms faced upwards into the air. Long bands of transparent fabric were draped over his shoulders like a cloak. The ghostly cloth twisted around his form and wrapped around his pure white legs. His eyes were deep and hollow, with no life emanating from within them. Upon his back was a pair of great feathered wings whose span was thrice the size of his body. Each of the large, cloudy feathers flowed towards the ground and were tipped with a faint line of gold along their edges. The massive wings gracefully undulated through the air and did not make a single sound. They easily kept the heavenly seraphim floating above the ground.

The warrior had never seen a single angel before in his entire life. No detailed images of them existed within the holy books. To him the form was very unusual, and unlike anything he had seen before. However, there was something familiar about this being in front of him. He had seen the face several times before and instantly recognized it.

The seraphim had the visage of the high priest Steirlen.

Whisper spoke, "Hello Steirlen, it is nice to see you again. Have you seen my brothers and sisters recently? I have to imagine they have many unanswered questions for you and your friends. Have you visited them lately?"

The angel replied, "I have not, dear Whisper. I must say, it is odd to find you here alongside this man. What led a small Gilly like yourself to befriend this man who was once part of the Cloth?"

"Donovan here? He saved me from some evil men several days ago. He was kind enough to heal me, and we have been playing and exploring together ever since. It has been ever so much fun. I have learned so much!"

The old warrior remained silent during their lengthy conversation. His one eye continued to train onto the ghostly face of the seraphim. He watched every movement of the ethereal being.

"Ah yes, I am familiar with this fellow. We had an encounter many, many years ago. In fact, it is because of him that I visit you on this day."

The one-eyed soldier spoke up, "And why might you be searching for me, Steirlen? For what reason are we graced by your presence?"

"You have been a hard man to locate I must say. We have been looking for you for quite some time… almost thirty years has it been? You have hidden yourself well. Using the ancient vial from years past alerted us to your existence within the forest. It was only a matter of moments before we located your exact position here upon this great hill."

Donovan continued to glare at the being in front of him. He did not respond to the seraphim.

"Killing Marqui was quite unexpected. Did you really believe the Church would understand the information that you had brought to them? The world of man is not meant to know the secrets of the past. It is beyond their minds to even fathom the truths you have uncovered. Furthermore, did you think that they would listen to the words of a wanted man and attempted murderer?"

"Attempted? Last that I knew, I was a murderer long before slaying Marqui. You do remember the high priest Darria do you not? He fell to the swing of my blade if you can recall."

"He did indeed fall to your sword, but he did not die that day. Since we are recollecting events from the past, you do remember what lay inside the crystalline bowl on that eve, do you not? He was easily healed by the mystic benefits of the Ifriit several moments after your 'escape'."

Shock and anger ran down Donovan's spine. He had forgotten about the Ifriit seeds that the trio of priests were consuming that night. Obviously they would have used one of the seeds to revive the slain sage. How could he have not realized this before? Was he blinded?

Painful memories from the past flew through his mind. He thought of the death of his friend and fellow soldier Sydney. He remembered the loss of his parents at the hands of the Pontia. He cringed at the moment his sister Bettany was sacrificed by the high priest Darria. The long suppressed anger that used to dwell within his bones began to bubble to the surface once more. He clenched his fists and grinded his teeth. A feeling of tremendous heat covered his entire body. Drops of sweat began to drip from his brow.

The frustrated warrior responded, "If what you say is true, then I must rectify my actions and dispose of the corrupt priest once more. If you could lead me to…"

"I'm afraid that we cannot allow that. Darria is far too important to the Church. He has become the supreme bishop of Isalis, from where he governs the land. From his seat in the great city, he is Heaven's direct contact with the world of man. It is imperative that he be protected."

"And how do you plan to stop me?"

"I do not have any plan to stop you, other than to ask for your word. I ask for your word that you will not harm the supreme bishop in any way. I require an oath that you will not attack the man called Darria."

"And what should happen should I refuse?"

"You will be mercilessly slain by the very hand of God."

"I see…"

The warrior contemplated his options. The temper within him continued to boil within his veins. His heart raced and he could not keep his thoughts straight. The only solution he could think of was to correct the actions of his past.

The angel asked again, "Do you agree not to harm Darria?"

"I do."

"And do I have your word?"

"You have."

"Then it is settled. Heaven and the will of God will spare you on this day."

The seraphim now finished with his mission, turned from the elder warrior and began to fly away. His great wings began to flutter in the wind.

Suddenly Donovan leapt forward. With the ancient sword between his hands he drove his silver weapon into the back of the ethereal Steirlen. Several of the tall feathers were shorn by the ancient sword and they fell to the dusty path. The blade sliced through the cloudy air and directly through the being's chest. A large gash appeared within the floating ghost.

With a great piercing cry, Steirlen let out a scream of pain that echoed for many leagues. A bright white light exploded outward from the laceration. Intense energy bled from the wound in great beams of light. The body of the seraphim began to vibrate violently.

With a great crash, every fiber within the floating man shattered into nothingness. Nothing remained of the seraphim other than his echoing cries.

The warrior was pushed back from the force of the explosion. He slid through the dirt and landed next to the weeping Gilly named Whisper. She stared directly into his single eye.

"Why…? Whhy? Why did you kill him?!? What have you done? What has he done to you?!? Why did you kill him?!? "

Donovan stood up and faced the girl in from of him. A solemn look graced his pallid face. Not a single look of concern appeared across his features.

Whisper with tears flowing down her pinkish face, pleaded with the warrior in front of her. Her tiny fingers clawed at his chest plate. "Why?!? Why…? Why did you kill him!?!"

The warrior did not answer her.

Now terribly frightened of the old warrior, Whisper quickly retreated from the brooding man with wet streams still trailing down her face. She made a few noises that sounded like angry bird chirps, and quickly fled. The Gilly hopped away from Donovan back towards the forest behind them. Her tiny little feet created clouds of dust as she ran.

The solemn man continued to stand on the dusty path without a single emotion upon his face. He slowly watched Whisper disappear into the woods behind his current position. He turned and looked off of the great cliff he found himself on.

To his right, down the side of the steep cliff several hundred feet below, lay the town of Isalis. Within its hallowed stone walls sat the elder sage Darria. There he sat, unaware of the warrior Donovan and his deadly plans.

Continue to Chapter 17