"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Ethstar nodded, sitting down within the confines of the white circle on the ground, making himself comfortable. The long sword hanging from his left hip got in the way, but it was a minor inconvenience. A black cloak hung from his back, the bottom hem gathering behind him on the floor.
Five angels stood around him, their white eyes shining at him with holy authority. Tall and majestic, their very presence seemed to demand respect from all of those who watched, a general aura of mighty power radiating from their very beings. Each stood at about seven feet tall, quite identical to each other. Blonde hair framed pure skin, a silver tint to the unmarked silk. The blonde locks fell in waves to broad shoulders, giving off the appearance of a woman. But the facial features were quite stern and hard, somehow proving that they were indeed men. Just as most women have soft features, most of the angelic men seemed to have quite hard and serious features. Each wore a gold breastplate, and had a long sword attached to their left hips. A skirt-like form of pants started at the waist, and went to the knees, white in color. Firm muscles rippled across revealed skin, mostly being the thick arms, and the knees down.

The speaker had been the angel on Ethstar's right, one located in his front, two behind, and one on each side. That particular angel was now smiling at him, raising his right fist to his left breast in a sign of respective salute. The other angels saw the movement, and quickly fell into line, each of them also raising their folded fists in the respectful sign.

Ethstar gave a small nod to answer their salute, signaling he was ready. He did not give the salute, for he wanted no ties to the angels no longer. He was hunted, exiled, and cursed. The Light had long since abandoned him, and he was not sure he wanted to go back. After all he had done, all he had seen... how could he really go back? Even if he had wanted to. Yes, his path was not marked yet. But it would be. Soon.

Crossing his legs in Indian position, he simply waited, closing his eyes to settle within supreme darkness. All he had to do was wait, and hope they didn't leave a part of him behind. That was what the other angels were there for. The one to his right was named Luce, one of his deepest friends from the army. He was probably to be considered a fallen, since he was aiding a hunted. Ethstar owed him a great deal, and one day, he would repay it. He did not know how he was to get back to the Celestial plane, but he would find a way. He knew they would never welcome him back.

At the nod, and when Ethstar had finally settled himself, the five angels moved forward, forming a tight ring around the sitting angel. In deep, serene tones, they started to chant, saying three words over and over. Their hands were extended toward Ethstar, each palm hovering a few inches away from his body. The skin seemed to suddenly glow a deep silver, rare celestial magics running through their veins to cast the spell of plane-walking. With the chanting of the words echoing in his ears, Ethstar waited.

"Claar dae fu... Claar dae fu..."

They never broke chant, simply saying it over and over. Ethstar started to feel a tug, something pulling at his body with invisible fingers. He let loose a small, humorless smile, and whispered a few parting words.

"I will return"

And the world flashed a bright white, engulfing Ethstar in the burst of magics. The invisible fingers pulled at him, and he began to fall, spinning into the bright lights dancing inside of his closed eyes.
---------------------------------

With a great shout, Ethstar toppled head over heels, bursting into one graceful spin in midair to land on his feet. And so he did, leather boots splashing into swamp muck at least five inches deep. with one raised eyebrow, Ethstar stared at the black muck, the smell rising to his nose. "THIS is the material plane?" He let loose a small sigh, and pried his boot from the muck, taking a single step forward. He pulled the folds of his black cloak around himself, hiding everything from the neck down from prying eyes. The hem stopped at a point between his ankles and the tops of the boots, a few inches of the black cloth dragging in the accursed mud.

Glancing around, his faded blue eyes took in the surroundings. A full moon shone from above, lighting most of the area around him. Strangled trees and dying plants, and mud as far as the eye could see. Shadows abound, cast by the light of the moon itself. He let loose a low snort, thinking of the irony of it all. The Light created the Shadow. And now they tried to kill them. He reached up, a single pure hand appearing from the black cloak to brush a few strands of silky black hair from in front of his eyes. For a being on the material plane, he was stunningly beautiful. Handsome or cute did not begin to describe the way his features blended together, creating one seemingly perfect being.

He pulled his hand back into his cloak, resting the fingers upon the hilt of his long sword. And with a sigh, he began to walk forward, taking careful steps in the stupid muck. A few uttered curses could be heard underneath his breath, the look on his face completely neutral, but the look in his eyes painfully innocent. Not a common trait among angels. The look of a child.

Ranewen had become sick of being indoors, finally, and had drawn herself out of her studies and writings in her personal library; for she had been studying on Istan for the longest of times. Perhaps a year, though to her it seemed a simple day. She was upon the back of a black steed, Sedhel was his name, and they were walking gracefully over the swampy waters. These waters were in the lands of her Temple, and therefore she could neither sink nor die by anyone’s hand in this area. Then again, the only people that knew she was, indeed, a Goddess were her own followers, and the sight ahead made her brows raise: an angel? No, it can’t b; an Angel would never come here… she thought to herself, though she did not dismount.

A cloak was drawn up above her head, casting her face in shadows and it almost appeared that there was no face inside to be seen; for when the wind blew the hood never revealed the contents within, though the person within could easily see out. She was dressed in full armor: she had a spiked design upon her arms, comprising of a cuirass, pauldrons, rerebrace, couter, vambraces, and articulated gauntlets, which overall made the design include over three dozen lames to allow her arms to still be able to have full movement. Underneath her black cloak there was armor that was as dark as the Abyss itself, perhaps, if one was ever lucky enough to see it and be able to come back in a lifetime like she had done. A miracle, it was, that she was still here today, having escaped the Abyss.

Her hands gripped the reins, the lames separating and she shifted slightly, the clinking of metal armor crafted by the best smiths in all of Imythess could be heard; for this was Ranewen: Goddess of Darkness. This Angel or whomever it was, however, would not know this, and therefore her identity was still concealed within the cloak, though underneath it she wore no helm but the circlet that she wore as a Goddess. Even that could not be seen, nor the obsidian gem that was embedded in the circlet to lay against the middle of her forehead. It was beautifully crafted, yet when one would translate the Elvish enscriptions upon it, one would shudder and probably cower in front of the Goddess. None would be able to read it, lest she allow them, which would be as rare as a dragon is of giving up its horde of treasure to a beggar from Taras.

Her voice came out like an icy wind from the cloak, but no breath could be seen—even in this time of the year when snow would begin to fall and laden the land in a white, cold blanket. “Who enters the Marsh?” Perhaps her words would not seem much if written down in read, but when her voice came out, it seemed to have stolen all hope away and insert some sort of fear. Would this effect work on an Angel—or a Fallen one for that matter—though? She did not know, but in only due time she would be able to find out, but she would not give away who she was so easily until she knew enough about this intruder upon her lands. And he had come from the Heavens and he dared to enter the darkest of lands in Imythess; for this was where Evil’s home was, aside from Balefire. This was the domain of the Goddess of Darkness. She would, however, not say that yet; for he seemed to be on the side of Lothlómendil in this coming war and it made her growl lightly. “Speak quickly, intruder, and perhaps your life shan’t be ended so soon, will it, you disgusting Celestial?” came the harsh words, though a curse of swears to the Celestial beings came out in her own tongue of Black Speech, of which most Light beings would cower when hearing.

In the end, her patience seemed to dwindle when she let her horse stop about ten paces from the Fallen in front of her, though she knew not that he had Fallen. She had been a Fallen Angel at one time in her life, though her wings, now, were renewed and she was infused with the most powerful of Erinyes demons in the Abyss. She then drew her long sword, Ghâsh it was called, which meant ‘Fire’ in the Black Speech that she used. This sword was, indeed, the blade of chaos that she had the honor or wielding and the blade was about three feet long and eight inches long, and the pommel being about four inches in length. The crossguard was straight across and ended in what appeared to be thorns; for her own sorcery had altered the appearance of the pommel to her own liking. She let the sword hang threateningly to her left and near the Fallen Angel, ready to bring it down on the armorless being, an amused smirk upon her face.

Ethstar halted dead in his tracks as he saw the magnificent steed heading straight toward him, a cloaked being perched firmly upon the back. For a moment, his mind flitted to his appearance. Almost knee deep in mud, and here came someone riding a horse, and moving quite gracefully over the swamp. He himself had no form of grace in his movements, for each of the steps he had taken had been rough and jerky. He was somewhat interested in the junk he was basically stuck in, for they had none of this on the Celestial plane. He wondered if the rest of this plane looked like this desolate little piece of muck, but he had little time to consider it. His ears picked up the distinct clink of touching armor, and he instantly went on the alert, his hidden right hand darting down to firmly close around a leather-wrapped hilt. His fingers tightened, knuckles going a dead white, but he did not yet actually drawing the blade. He wasn't so sure if the people around here were nice, but he was certainly going to treat it with a cautious attitude. The voice of reason within his head also told him not to wave a naked blade at random strangers.

As she drew closer, his eyes darted to the void within her hood, searching for a glimpse of one of the Material plane beings. Try as he might, his eyes pierced nothing, leaving him even more on the guard, and leaving his eyes dancing to the other parts of her body. The cloak covered everything. He couldn't even see the armor, couldn't spot a weapon, couldn't tell if she was in fact a boy or a girl. With the armor clanking though, a girl was the farthest thing from his mind. He had never really seen any women angels, much less one wearing armor. So for now, he remained motionless within the bile, eyes filled with caution, face hardening to an emotionless look. He shifted his feet in the muck, trying to spread them for at least a little more balance.

The commanding voice rung out from the cloaked one atop the steed, calling Ethstar's attention back to the rider's hood. The voice filled his mind and body, and a shiver traveled down the length of his spine. If in fear, or in excitement, one could not really be sure. A rapid blink would be the only reflection on the face, revealing nothing to the hidden onlooker. He kept his wings folded behind the cloak, not wanting to give away what he was. He had heard people didn’t react very well to Celestials. Some people didn't even believe the beings existed. He wanted as little attention drawn to him as possible, and he certainly didn't want word of a Celestial arriving on the Material plane traveling to who knows where. With his luck, it would travel directly back to the Celestial plane itself.

And then the next bit of emotion revealed through his eyes, the objects widening in blank surprise. His face slightly revealed the surprise too, jaw going slightly slack before snapping back into a firm position. How had she known he was an Angel...? Was she a Celestial? Did she know of the fact that he was a fallen? Did the higher angels already know he had left the plane? The only thing he could really assume was she didn't know he was fallen, considering she had named him as Celestial. And considering her reaction to the fact that he was a Celestial, he better let her know quickly. The blade had darted out, and his eyes had slid from her hood to regard it, nearly lashing out with his own blade. He briefly wondered if he could get it out in enough time. For now, he decided the best thing would be to let her know he wasn't the being she seemed to hate so much.

Eyeing the drawn steel with a emotionless stare, he slide his gaze up to stare directly into the hood, trying to match the gaze he could not see. Another shiver ran down his spine, another unknown reaction being called from him. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he felt fear. Yet somewhere else, for some strange reason, he felt excitement. Something he could not explain. Or something he didn't want to explain.

"I am not a Celestial anymore. I am Ethstar."

His eyes flared with something bordering defiance, as if actually daring her to call him a liar. He had denied the teachings, defiled them, and ran. He was NOT a Celestial.

"I am a Fallen."

The clinking of armor could be heard again, and with all the armor, the person inside the cloak landed with much ease as if she were wearing no armor whatsoever. In fact, she moved as if she were an Elf, though of course she was not, but perhaps in some other lifetime when she actually cared for people around her rather than the destruction of everyone but her own followers. She did not let herself be revealed to the Fallen Angel and she listened to his excuse and nodded her head slightly; for now that she looked upon him, he was no Celestial being indeed, and was much better than a Celestial. Still, though, his wings were white and did not even appear to be clipped for whatever reason, but nevertheless appeared dead. All life seemed to have been stolen away from them and she was amused by it, to say the least, though she did not like him; not yet, until it was proven that he had hated the Celestials and lighter beings. Perhaps he didn’t, though, and she would simply have to pick him up and banish him from her lands until he thought otherwise, though that was a last resort type of thing.

The wind picked up and yanked at the hood, as she was facing into it, but the only thing that it did was yank this way and that, and a flash of golden eyes could be seen, but no face could be seen within the Abyss of the hood. Surely this was magic, of course, and it was not a mortal’s magic that concealed her identity, or the wind would have long ago blown away her camouflage. The horse next to her reared lightly and stomped upon the water, and the water splashed into the air, but the hooves did not sink into the murky substance that seemed to be up to the Fallen Angel’s shins or something of that sort. She was not looking down at his legs, but instead returning the gaze that was being pushed at her and she was very amused by this, and she held the sword tightly in one hand, the wind picking up and casting back the sleeves that had concealed the heavy armor, though to her it felt weightless and like her skin. She did not usually dress in a full body of armor, but she was riding to war; well, not exactly to war, but she had been on her way to the Encampment of her forces in the Dragonspine Mountains.

Now she was delayed and slightly annoyed, though perhaps she would be coming with a new soldier to her army, but then thought to herself that he was once part of the forces that she was going against and casting the downfall of. She growled to herself, though no words were uttered to the Fallen Angel as of yet, and she simply stood there, almost appearing to be like a man, and in fact could have been mistaken for one easily, though her normal voice might have given herself away. “Are you aligned with…them?” came her harsh voice once more and she meant the Celestials, and she even had hated the simple name of the beings. She had been one, once; she was perhaps the most famous fallen angel, seeing as now she was a Goddess of Darkness, having come a long way in a little over two centuries. She drew herself up to a taller height and looked to her horse and then to the Fallen Angel in front of her once more and a smirk was on the face of the person hidden beneath the hood.

If one were to dare a look into the hood, they would simply see the other side of the cloak that she wore at that moment, though the wind had thrown back her sleeves slightly to reveal the armor that lay underneath, resembling almost like dragon scales. They hadn’t been pushed back far enough, but at the elbow there was a point that came out like a dagger, and was a weapon in itself if she drew back her elbow with enough force. Upon her horse, who looked as if the beast had been summoned from the very depths of the Abyss, were many different weapons, especially the double-headed morning star that had a curse upon it to those who followed Lothlómendil. In her hand, flames seemed to dance up the blade, and in fact the blade caught on a black fire every once in a while, though it would die out now and then, only to start back up. She drew her head up and looked at him, though he could not see her face, but he was indeed staring into her eyes. She was taller than he was buy a good few inches, only because she had cast a spell upon herself when she jumped off the horse to increase her size. Oh, where would one be without magic?

As the lady jumped from the steed, Ethstar's eyes darted back to the tip of the blade, making sure it made no sudden movements. He didn't entirely trust her, and why should he? He had been betrayed by his own kind, the ones he thought were the most trustable beings in existence. Only time and pain had shown him otherwise, revealing the cold truths of the world to his stabbed heart. And anyway, she was pointing a nasty looking blade at his throat. No, she was one he would not normally trust. He knuckles and hand were a pure white now, attacked so tightly to the hilt of the blade that it was actually starting to be a form of pain to him.

He noted her grace, another blink signaling that he was surprised again. How could one move such as that when armor was on them? Angels had done it, yes, but their armor had been very light, therefore not making the telltale clunk that heavy armors did. Perhaps the noise had just been of his imagination? The wind whistled and drove at her hood, and his eyes immediately picked up the weakness and drove in, trying to pry past what he could not pierce. For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of yellow flare to meet his gaze, but then it was gone, the shadows reigning supreme once more. The wind merely ruffled the fabrics of his cloak, sending ripples throughout the fabric. His hair blew in random directions, the fingers of nature’s breath having no care for his looks. His lips suddenly set in a firm line, the frustration welling up within him, but his willpower managing to keep the poker face active. Why couldn’t he see under that hood?

He switched his gaze from the blade to the horse, somewhat annoyed by the splashing. A few droplets of water reached his cloak, dancing against the black material, and sliding down to add to the muck on the ground. For a brief instant, he noticed that the horse seemed to be WALKING on the muck, but he disregarded it just as fast as he had noticed it. Instead, he was taken by the assortment of weapons on the steed. The rider was certainly equipped for whatever the world may throw at her. His eyes darted back up, boldly matching the empty void. He didn't noticed as the wind revealed the edges of armor, for at the moment, he was too busy with her useable eyes.

She was taller then him, although it did not matter much. From the corner of his vision, he saw the blade randomly flaring up and dying down. It seemed to be free of her will, so he gave it no more notice, simply recording the facts of the blade in his mind. He didn’t recognize the spell that caused the flames, his own impressive knowledge of magics failing him. His teacher had been an Angel as well, but even that one had twisted into something unknown. Everything he thought he had once believed in, once known… it was gone. It had been shattered. A strand of black hair blew in front of his face, and he didn’t even blink, his eyes seeming to be in a different world now.
He heard her question distinctly, and almost immediately, his voice came out, eyes refocusing, and this reply not withheld at all.

"With them. No. I will never be aligned with them. No matter where my path takes me, the angels will not be a part of me. If one crosses me, I will kill it with no hesitation." His eyes seemed to almost change, a strange intensity rising up from with. The pupils dilated to pinpricks, the blue color surrounding them shrinking to a very thin circle. To most people, fear would be inserted. Angels had quivered at this gaze. For hen you kill people with no qualm, and see so much spilt blood... you change. And you become something twisted. So the words continued on.

"Too cowardly to take responsibility for their own doings, and so prideful that they would call themselves the chosen beings. They make their own form of right and wrong, and if anyone dares to oppose what they think is in the right... they destroy that opposition. They called the shadow evil, and they called the rest unholy. And they called themselves the perfect beings. In the end, from what my eyes have seen, they are worse then the shadow. Their Light CREATED the shadow. The angels never will consider if the shadow is right. For in their mind, how can another be right? For in their minds, they are the very definition of right. Their "Light" is the very definition of right. The Angels destroyed my life. They destroyed it to silence me. They shattered "right"."

He took a step forward, a rage twisting the features of his face, his eyes flowing with a overflowing intensity.

"I am a Fallen. They are no friends of mine."

She laughed lightly as he insulted the beings above their heads, or wherever it was that they made their cursed realm, thinking it was a perfect paradise, when in fact it was their fault that most of the population would seem be against them, and an army at their doorstep. She relaxed the blade slightly and placed it against her shoulder, the flames dancing around her shoulder as they pleased; the flames were almost like the pulse of the blade, and eager to simple kill the being in front of her, but she was assured that he would make a great enemy to the Angels. “Everything you spoke is true…They are more wicked than the Shadows, though they think they are greater than any other being; even sometimes they think they are greater than the Gods and Goddesses.” The wind whipped this way and that as they pleased, and soon enough she shoved the blade into the scabbard on the horse’s side and relaxed her hands in her hood once more, letting her eyes flash again inside the hood. With the spell she had cast on herself, she could not see everything correctly, but could see heated frames, and she could still sense the aura of anyone around her and she sensed the evil hiding in a shell inside this Fallen Angel.

The wind had picked up once more, and she let the hood of the black cloak fall to her back, revealing dark black hair and large, pointed ears; her hair was thin, and her eyes were golden and her skin was as pale as the snow that would lay upon Imythess soon enough. The cloak did not reveal anything else but her face, and one would look upon her and possibly say: It’s impossible for her to be so evil and still have that beauty about her; do you think she is really evil? Well, it was obviously possible as it had just been proven that one could still keep her divine beauty and do such evil deeds that in her eyes seemed right. Perhaps one would become confused, not knowing that she was a Goddess and thinking her as a normal Elf; but how could an Elf be evil? Weren’t they those perfect creatures hiding in forests and trees and not coming to aid others in their time of need? Yes, those would be them, but she was neither an elf nor a human: she was an Erinyes and a Goddess, though few ever knew this.

She inclined her head slightly towards him, and let her voice come out in its normal tone, which was like the tone she was using earlier, except lighter and more feminine in a way. “My name is Ranewen, if you’ve ever heard of me,” she finally said and nodded her head towards the horse she had been previously riding on. “And that is Sedhel; my dark steed; we, too, are enemies of the Angels and are seeking their destruction of their perfect world, though how we are going about this we cannot tell you. I would have to kill you as soon as I end the first sentence of my speech,” she said with a smirk and looked about her for a moment, black hair contrasting oddly with the deadly-pale skin she had upon her face and she then let her smirk fall back to a firm line when she turned back to look at the Fallen Angel. Snowflakes began to fall from the sky and land in her hair, though they melted as soon as they touched her as if she was able to melt them with her mind, which is what she had thought of doing, but it did it anyways.

The snow also dissolved in the waters below her feet and melted instantly upon the steel shoes she had been wearing instead of her leather boots. She was riding to war, not to a tavern, and the tips of those steel boots ended in a sharp point, making a weapon of their own if she lost all other means of weaponry and magic. Then again, she had unlimited magical powers, being the Goddess of Darkness, but she hid that behind a mask of what seemed to be mortality, and her guise was that of an Elf. Perhaps Elves were immortal, but they could still be killed, unlike the real Goddess beneath. She drew herself up to her full height, reaching a good six feet and ten inches as she stood there, though her real height was probably a good foot and a half shorter. “Whether you choose me as an Enemy or a friend, that is up to you, but our beliefs are the same, like it or not, Ethstar, Fallen Angel—a betrayed life you have led, and now they are probably up there laughing at you talking to a mere mortal instead of talking to those worthy of your presence, or would have been if their ways were really just.” Her words were like a slow poison, though not many knew of this, and she had that voice that could be friendly or seductive, good or bad, depending on the side that someone was on in this war of hers that was brewing at Istan, though the attack had not been launched yet.

His eyes remained as deadly as ever as she laughed, the rage burning deep within his heart still going strong. He had meant every word he had said, and he did not care how the beings above took it. It was true, and in his mind, it was starting to form his very own definition of right. He let out an inward sigh of relief as she brought the blade back to her shoulder, his own grip on a blade loosening somewhat. He still left his fingers there, not completely comfortable around her, but his distrust had lessened somewhat. In the back of his mind, a cold voice taunted his actions, calling him a coward, calling him fearful. He shouted back his own replies, protesting that he had been betrayed once. Never again. He had promised himself that. The voice in his head quieted, beaten down for the time being. Or perhaps it was just regrouping, getting ready for the next assault upon his broken mind.

When she let down her hood, his eyes immediately changed, instantly reverting to the wide-eyed innocence of a child. His face nearly crumbled, the dull look twitching once before settling back into position. If he hadn't managed to keep his face neutral, he would have been much like an awestruck man. First surprise was that she was a girl. He had never really talked with one, and the ones he had normally seen weren't warriors. He didn't really discredit her for it, he actually respected her for it. Second surprise was that she was beautiful. It didn't really effect him as much as the fact that she was comparable to the female angels, if not prettier. He had been taught that the Angels were the most beautiful beings in creation. Were they not aware of whatever race this girl was, or were they simply feeding him another lie? It haunted him for a few short moments, but then drove her beauty to the side, trying not to reveal that he had been awestruck.

As her voice came out, he noted the change, the feminine tone clearly portrayed now. He wondered how she had changed it, perhaps she was talented in the ways of magic? The sword certainly seemed to be enchanted, as did the horse. Perhaps the armor as well. He made a mental note, completely convinced now. The evidence added up, and he was surprised he hadn't noticed before. Yes indeed, she certainly was talented in magics. He committed both of the names to memory, neither one ringing a bell in his mind. He hadn't studied any other beings in his work, for he didn't need it. Magic and swordsmanship were the only things that had been required. Most had been put to waste, his angelic powers being stripped before he had escaped. He still had the knowledge of the spells, but he couldn't cast them. Not that he wanted to.

He listened quietly to her words, his eyes narrowing slightly as she spoke. The blue orbs changed yet again as she uttered the word "kill", the pupils dilating then snapping back to normal in a matter of seconds. He didn't take any offense at her proclamation at having to kill him, for he knew her reasons. At least he though he did. He knew that things were such dark secrets, that any who knew of these things were quite dangerous. Plans to kill such an order of beings could only be given to the most highly trusted. The first few flakes of snow began to drift down on his body, bringing a slight chill. The cloak and underclothes provided some form of warmth, but not enough to permanently keep him comfortable. He would have to start moving soon if he was too keep warm. He noted the instant melting of the snow upon her form, yet again another show of her magics. How many enchantments and spells did she have going, and how was she able to control them all...? Who WAS she?

His eyes started to take in her face again, this time, a complete study being performed instead of a mere surprise at her beauty. He committed the face to memory, labeling at the first he had met in this plane. No there notes were added, except that she seemed to share the same goals as him. The same "right" as him. He watched her face carefully as her words continued on, searching for any trace of emotion, trying to find out exactly what she thought behind those eyes. His own eyes were locked onto hers, holding her gaze almost stubbornly. Underneath the cloak, his grip began to loosen even more, not considering her as an enemy any longer. She was still a threat yes, but he was sure she would always be a threat. That was just the impression he got, just by listening to her voice.

Her words seemed to seep into his mind, not a hint of her intentions being revealed to him. His voice came out ragged and rough, harsh to the ear as he spoke his mind. "Anyone who is against the Celestials, I am a friend of theirs." His face spoke volumes, once again twisting in the unleashed rage. It seemed every time the Celestials came up, he seemed to change drastically, going from an innocent man to a horrifying angel. "I swore I would destroy them, just as they destroyed me." The eyes changed once again, his voice low and threatening, yet the intimidation not aimed at her. "I swore I would kill them."

"And when I say I will kill you... you WILL end up dead."