Night covered the ruins like a dark fog. No stars shone on that night, due to the veil of misty clouds, hiding their gleam and the shine of the moon, though the moon of Imythess had faded significantly in the last several months.

Dark mists clung to the earth and ruins. Not a soul seemed to be about on such a night.

The peace was shattered quickly and violently, though. An empty archway burst to life, a shining portal bursting open. It seemed to be made of pure light, bathing the entire ruins in it, giving the gray stone a yellow tint.

The portal fluxuated and then finally stabilized into a glimmering pool of light. Then from this light, several figures emerged. All four of them were obviously not human. Three of them stood no less than seven foot tall and all had an aura of light surrounding them. They were dressed in full, shining plate and two carried huge swords, as tall as their bearers. They all also had large white wings.

One male seemed to be the leader, also wearing full plate armor. Instead of only two wings, he bore six upon his back and practically throbbed an aura of untainted goodness and lawfulness. His white hair was long and pulled back. Instead of a weapon, he carried a scroll. When he spoke, his voice bellowed across the expanse of the ruins and caused the clouds above to rumble.

The last of the four beings was smaller, just under six feet tall. She had long pale hair, much like the other large beings, but also the features of a possible half-elf, with large slanted eyes and noble features. She did not appear to be more than sixteen or seventeen years old.

"Lady Velien Eld'Theri, Half-Celestial, you have committed treason to the legions of Celestia, refusing your orders to pursue your own chaotic desires. This is unacceptable and punishable by death among us, as you are fully aware of," the leader said coldly. "You have pleaded your case to those of the Celestian Grand Council and they chose to show you mercy. Therefore, you are banished forever from Celestia's gates. Never shall you return through this portal, nor any other. You have been so marked."

With these words, the Celestial made a divine gesture across his face, then mimicked the gesture over the young woman's. A golden shadow fell across her face and one could see the faint sparkle of a tear running down her cheek as he placed a hand on her head, the closest thing to sympathy her stepfather would ever give.

When he removed his hand, she looked back up at him, silently pleading, but he seemed to ignore her. "Farewell... Ves'vor'eis," she whispered. He only paused slightly as he turned away and stepped through the portal, closely followed by the two other celestials who had been his guards. As soon as they had all stepped through, leaving Velien alone, the portal shut and she knew never again would she see the place she had been raised. The floating white cities, the gardens... and even worse, she would probably never see her childhood friend, Mo'ran, her foster mother, T'loriss, and her cousins, Er'dynu, Ech'ume, and Y'wardra.

Yes, she truly was alone here in this world. She had been here before and had met many people, but none that were truly her friends. Velien was too strange, too distant and not human enough.

Velien shuddered, blinking her silver eyes to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheek again. She was already ashamed to have shown a tear when Ves'vor'eis had placed the mark of enbanishment upon her.

She had always known she had been wild. She had never taken well to authority, though she made many sacrafices to become a Planeswalker of Celestia, bending to her foster father's every whim, as well as her teachers'. But when she came to Imythess, it awoke something within her. Even though she was to never return to Celestia, she found a part of herself strangely indifferent to it. That part of her felt a strange tie to this mortal land and even when she returned to Celestia, she couldn't help but dream of the mist covered hills of Izimet's fields, the dark and mysterious city of Balefire, and the glittering gems of the Moonsea.

Now she simply stood, looking at the archway, torn inside, Half herself wished the portal would reopen and her adoptive family would be there to call her home. The other 'chaotic' side of her yearned to move, to see the stars and to unlock the many secrets of this mortal plane of existence...

How strange it would have been, had the Celestials realised that littel further then fifty paces away, hidden in a ditch, was one of the beings they hated the most. For inside the ditch, safely hidden by dark sky and dark cloak, Stirling the Infused was half asleep.

He was laying motionless, reddish-gray face impassive, mask to the chaos beneath his hair, in his mind. Nothing but thoughts of destruction and chaos roamed within, occasionaly broken by Nota’man probing around the surrounding area, usuing Stirling's body as a warning system. This was why the Half-Drow wasn't asleep yet. The constant twiches freom his ears and noses was driving him to insanity, along with the constant updates and comments from the Demonic entity bound to his soul. However, this time, he was glad for it.

His nose and ears twitched and quivvered, picking up the little signs. There was nothing about, then suddenly his skin began to crawl. He was starting to shiver slightly, despite the fact that his body was heating up from the inside out.

I sense the light.

The gutteral voice filled every corner of Stirling's mind, delving in to the subconcious to influence the Thief to act. And he did. A pair of grey lids opened, releaseing the light form red ords onto the nearby stone of the Half-Drow's sleeping area. He sat up, rubbing the last traces of sleep and tiredness from his eyes. Looking at the edge of a large stone, he noticed how a golden light trickled and danced upon it, playing with the texture. It made him fell even more hot on the inside.

Grabbing up the bow from where it lay, Stirling slowly crawled out of his nook and along the ground, keping hidden behind rocks and fallen debris. Finding a large rock with a split down the middle, he propped himself up and took a look out.

Before him stood a golden gateway, supported by an arch and radiating pure light and blessed goodness. It sickened him to no end. Within there were several large figures, and one smaller one, a female. They exited, stepping a short distance out. The one with the most wings held somethign up and spoke in a language that Nota’man made possible for him to hear.

So the girl is being banished. Ha ha ha! Seems the 'golden planes' aren't so blissful, eh?

The Half-Drow ignored this, and continued to watch as the Celestials returned to the portal, which then closed, leaving the small figure on her own. Some deep part of his stirred, and threatened to rear it's head. Pity, empathy. SHe reminded him of himself, when he was cast out. Pushing the worthless feelings down, he stood, hopping over the stone, makeing just enough noise to alert he of his presence.

Let's see what she's all about. This voice in his head was partly his own, partly Nota’man's. Holding the bow downwards, Stirling walked forward, starting to speak to the stranger form another dimension.

"So much for the kindness of the Celestials. Doesn't feel good to be abandoned. I know that." It was a small statement, but it was a start. He wanted to find out about the stranger.

Velien instinctively gripped the hilt of the scimitar which hung from in it's scabbard at her left hip as soon as she heard something behind her. Something about the man made her feel instantly cold, but burning hot, like her skin was being licked at by flames, at the same time, and slightly fluish, though she wasn't sure why.

At his statement, she realized he must have seen the entire event take place. Or at least the important parts of it.

"No, it doesn't... Although I should be grateful that I was shown mercy. They could have easily killed me," Velien responded carefully. The aura he seemed to radiate encouraged her to keep her guard up and her hand upon her weapon, still unsure of his intentions.

Though she was not Infused, her protector's spirit, Iach was always with her and he seemed to whisper to her now. It was not often she could hear his voice audibly, but now his warning rang clear as day. Great evil is near... she heard him say, as though he was standing right beside her.

But despite her instincts and Iach's warnings, at the moment, she did not much care. If she had been a true celestial, maybe then she would instantly attack the man for his evil aura. Yet today it was carved in stone to her... she was no celestial. No warrior of the Golden Plane of Light. Never before had she felt so unsure of where she stood. Good and evil. Law and chaos... she did not know.

The Half-Drow gave a snort of disbeleif. She was saying that she was lucky not to die. He thought it funnt that she did not resent them for outcasting her. The Abyss knew that he despised his family and culture, for making him want to spill their blood. For parting him from his little sister.

Presently, Stirling turned his attention back to the Stranger. She had her hand on her scimitar handle, which made him remember with a pang that his was back ina ditch. The shortbow was his only defence, despite his magic.

"Such mercy casting you out to no-where, leaving you to any vagabond or brigand who so wishes to have his way." the disgust was evident in his voice. Abandonment was a touchy subject in his books.

Stepping forward, he let the bow slip down, until he was holding the tip loosly, the other end barely scrapeing the mossy rocks. He kept his eyes on her, taking in what he could with his red orbs in the little light. Finally, he was not more than three Pit Fiend paces away. To most other archers, this would have been a deathtrp when confronting a swordswoman, but he specialised in short and rapid shots with his bow.

At this distance, the Thief could almost see the Celestial shudder with hatred and disgust. But she didn't attack. Why? Beings of the upper plains wanted nothing more then to rid life of the Demons. Cocking his head on the side, he addressed her.

"Are you frightened? Or are you feeling the desire to strike me down? If so, why do you hesitate, when it seems to be the goal of many?" He asked this in all the honesty that he owned.