Czarrov remained balanced upon the tip of the spire. One foot had been lifted slightly to his knee. Green eyes gazed out from the top of the cathedral, observing the lands far and near. A sharp gust of wind rushed past his body, kicking up the long tendrils. They connected to his shoulders, trailing down into a thin black wire and then reaching the feather at each tip. It had been a dark dreary day and the wind seemed to signify it, bringing a final confirmation to an approaching storm. Czar remained un-phased by the winds and the rolling thunder, having been only intent with being secluded to the beauty of the surrounding landscape. His eyes slowly drifted shut, contemplating his next moves, unsure of where to go from here. Things were quite puzzling since he finally declared his independence from his demon brethren. During his stay in their watch and care he had been told what to do and constantly put down when things hadn't been done right. It almost had been like he was just a puppet, but he had been far more than that, but it seemed it made no difference to his brothers and sisters.

Czar’s red bangs drifted lifelessly in the light breeze, causing strand by strand to tussle about his brows. Without warning it had hit him. The memories, the flashbacks all flooded his head. A faint ringing noise emitted throughout his head, as flashes of his previous life adorned his thoughts, brandishing a sharp blade along side each picture. Visions of his dead family members and the girl he gave his hear to in the end and strived to protect in his final breaths of air. Upon dying it had been in vain, he took a blade meant for the girl in the chest by interference, which rendered him defenseless and immobile, nearly killing him upon striking. The girl on the other hand suffered a fate far worse than death itself….First she had been abused and abused sexually before the initial slow torturous death she suffered. All had been captured by his own eyes during his final hours on this planet, bleeding his life away. And then his parents….His brothers…His friends….All beheaded and the rest of the townsfolk also suffered the same fate before the town was burnt to the ground. The raiders held no remorse for those they’ve slain, or the deeds they’ve committed during the town slaughter.

Dark crackles of energy flickered across his forearms, almost like live worms, which scattered across his arms. The dark energies gathered inside of him, generated by a grave hatred for those who defiled his town so long ago. The worm-like crackles of energy flicked across his forearms once more, this time giving off a black radiant glow, which seemed to cast a silhouette of darkness across his frame. Green eyes changed in their variance of hues, differing from dark black to a deep violet. The energy coursed throughout his veins with each pulsation of the heart, having been fueled by the hate against those of his former life. Eyes fluttered for a moment, before drifting shut, shielding everything from his dark malevolent eyes.

Velien's mood had turned even darker than it was when she saw the coming storm. Not only had she been here for weeks without even a scent of her target, but after speaking to Ves'vor'eis he had told her she only had three more weeks. How was she supposed to find one man in this large land? She had expected to find him within two weeks at most. She had also expected to find clues and follow deaths to his location. And yet, there were none.

She had been in the ruins to speak to Ves'vor'eis, her adoptive father, who had come to see her at the hidden gate to Celestia located in the ruins. With the stom's coming, she decided to find a place to take shelter, the closest being the old cathedral.

As she headed to the cathedral's once beautiful wooden doors, she paused, though, when she noticed the strange silhouette of a man above. Who would stand in a place like that with the coming of a storm? she thought vaguely. Already she could hear distant cracks of lightning and thunder. Then, with a shake of her head, she realized that was a somewhat stupid question for her mind to ponder. Who would be up there at any time of the weather?

Someone would either have to be very foolish or not normal to do so.

The storm continued clashing, flashes of light and thunder growing with each passing moment. Silence befell upon the cathedral before the initial downpour. The droplets of water streamed down the contours of his face, trailing down along his lower mandible and falling weightlessly to the rooftop. Dark eyes fluttered open, dropping his gaze downwards upon the walking being bellow. A woman….Young woman for the matter. Such resemblance to that of Celina’s…The hair…The figure and the eyes….Had he been seeing things, or had this been a true vision? Impossible….There was no possible explanation to the reason she could still be alive. The eyes never lie…Least they hadn’t thus far…Many years back on that fateful day, he saw Celina cut down by those filthy dogs. It brought a stir to his stomach as he was forced to watch this inhumanity; they shed no remorse, nor held any second thoughts to the crimes they committed.

The dark silhouette deepened in its dark hue, expanding around his form, as splinters of the dark matter broke off from the rest drifting off before dissipating as it arrived, into the emptiness around him. Long flowing locks of black hair stirred restlessly behind him as another breeze rushed by him. Czar teetered precariously upon the spire, suddenly leaping off towards the left side of the roof. Landed with a patter of footsteps the initial grinding sound emitted from the roofs surface, as he slid down the angled roof to the edge. Held his crouched position and upon reaching the edge, he leapt off from the roof. Momentum carried him a few yards from the cathedral, finally landing with a sickening sloshing sound upon the water soaked ground. His knees were bent and his feet were spaced heavily apart from each other, his left hand planted upon the ground to prevent him from slipping upon the slick earth upon his landing. Malicious dark hues shifted upwards, gazing off at the lining of the trees. Slowly he pushed himself back to an erect stance, bringing his feet side by side. He turned towards the Cathedral, staring at it with a blank expression. Cautiously he moved forward, sloshing footfalls propelling him forward step by step. Slowed to a near stop, as he reached the front side of the Cathedral, his left side facing the large wooden doors. Turning his head slowly, casting his gaze over his left shoulder at the woman standing near the doors, “Celina….?” A quizzical expression crossed the features of his countenance, unsure of whether or not he was right about what his heart was telling him. It had been near ages since he last saw her, perhaps he already forgot what she looked like? Once again impossible….Her image was etched into his mind, burned with the very hex fire that consumed them both in the end.

The soft patter of rain drowned out the ringing in his head during his time of recollection. The dark aura, which shrouded his image soon dissipated, fading just as it had came. Strands of crimson hair stuck against his forehead, matted down by the heavy downpour of rain. Intent had his gaze been, his hues fading from dark purple to a light green, “….I…I can’t believe this….It’s all…Surreal, there’s no way you could have---“ His thought was interrupted, stirring once more over the situation. Few moments passed before finally reaching a conclusion. He decided to await her reaction, knowing that would be the truth he would be searching for. If he was wrong, he would be sure she would inform him, though….What if he was right?

Even as the man stood, she had taken a fighting stance and her scimitar was in hand. She was thrown off, though, by the fact that he looked at her with an expression of recognition and hope. He even called her by a strange name: Celina. It was not a name known to Velien.

She kept her scimitar up, though, the blade at a height with which to kill if she decided he posed a threat. The falling rain made her hair damp and cling to her back and shoulders. Her silvery eyes tried to place him, but failed. She did not know him.

Slowly, Velien shook her head. "I do not know who you think I am. My name is Velien Eld'thys, Planeswalker native to Celestia. The name Celina... It is not mine."

It almost hurt her to tell him this. He seemed so hopeful. Almost happy. In a quiet whisper, barely audible above the pattering of rain on the ground, she added, "I'm sorry."

Whoever Celina had been had been very important to him, whoever she had been or was.

Czarrov stared blankly upon the woman, Velien. His hopes, his dreams had been shot down, but it was his own fault for setting them so high. Celina had been a very important influence in his life and also the woman he wanted to die for though he knew not of how she felt towards him. A simple crush had it been, nothing that far out of the ordinary. And now….Now she was gone, hopefully in a place far greater than he ventured to after death. The reasoning for his trip to the pits of hell was still unknown, even to him. All throughout his time spent down there, his demon brethren had shunned him for being kind of heart at times, which usually singled him out quite the few times. It hadn’t bothered him really, up until the final days he was content with keeping his space. But then the memories persuaded him with another decision…And he ended up rebelling against his brethren leader and became an exile….A fugitive..

Green hues focused upon her face, studying her features, “…Velien Eld’thys…..” He had originally hoped repeating the name would help with the acceptance process, though it was in vain. It only brought a wave of emptiness across his body, feeling hollow inside without the one he loved by his side. And instead…He had no one…The blade caught his eye with its glimmering sheen surface and cuts of the metal, angled sides coming to a sharp and acute point. The blade itself had been arced upwards and to a point, almost like a crescent. The blade didn’t appear threatening, but he was willing to push the woman to the extents she had planned to use the blade for. Czarrov slowly turned to face the woman, before heading forward. The sickening slosh of the mud reigned up from the ground, the patter of rain still imminent with its heavy downfall.

Upon reaching the woman, his right hand lifted up to the curved blade, digits extended and curling in slowly. Felt the cool steel of the blade against the palm of his hand before initially clasping his fingers around it. Carefully he brought the tip of the blade up towards the left side of his chest, planting the tip of the blade firmly against his exposed skin, “Do you think I would fear your blade? …..Go ahead and show me what you intended to use it for…After all, there would be no use for it here and now…If I really would have wanted to cause you harm, I would have done so before making myself visible…And…As you could tell, I am unarmed.” He had been slightly right about the unarmed part, seeing as he brandished no weapon at the point, but instead keeping it hidden within his attire. Hues focused in, dialing in on hers in a deep empty stare, “…Forgive me for not introducing myself in the first place….But the welcoming I received, wasn’t what I would consider pleasant to say the least However…My name is Czarrov Syllvente.”

She saw the loss in his eyes, whether he had wanted to show it or not and it pained Velien, but safety was her main goal now. The man was dangerous. She knew that easily. On the retrospect, though, he did appear to be unarmed and she had no desire to harm someone who did not have a way to defend themselves.

...And yet, it was then she caught the stench of evil upon him. She felt it against her aura and made her stomach churn and the hairs at the back of her neck stand. She had a difficult choice to make. To either trust this man and hope that if his intentions were ill she could redraw her weapon fast enough, or she could keep her weapon out, or outright kill him as she sensed his evil. To the celestials eyes, all things evil had to be eliminated. Velien had always been too tolerant in her foster father's eyes, though. Ves'vor'eis had always drove her harder, trying to harden her heart to evil, believing her to be too gullible for evils tricks and ploys.

Honor, though, was also an important thing to the celestial peoples.

With a sharp movement, she drew her weapon from his grasp. It might have cut her hand, she didn't know and didn't much care. If it did, it was a warning that she would harm him if he tried to do so to her.

"My blade is sharp and precise. It is also not good for such a stabbing motion. It is more effective at slicing someone's throat, not stabbing out the heart. But I will do neither unless the situation grants it," she said, the warning clear in her words, pulling her weapon back and sliding it into its scabbard at her left hip. "And I apologize for my harsh reaction to your approach. It is better to be cautious than dead."

Lowered his eyes down to the palm of his hand, observing the slit in his hand where the blade pierced the skin. Crimson liquid flowed from the open wound, stinging as the air came in contact with the exposed folds of skin. Droplets of crimson fluid trailed down along the side of his hand, coming to the back of his hand before dropping to the ground just as the rain had done. The rain began diluting the deep crimson color of the liquid, turning it to a light red tint. Green eyes altered in color, distorting to a deep dark color, fairly close to that of violet. It had been his other personality to put it bluntly.

His past was long and complicated for the reason he solely spent his time in the pits of hell, but it had been for a purpose. It had been the fact that he killed seven people total during his time amongst the living. Each of the men closely related to the other, through some sort of pact or bond…Its what had initially set off the strike against his homeland during his final hours on the earth, tormented by the fate deemed him. Taking the blade which had been meant for her was a foolish move…..But a noble act in his final moments. Although he didn’t realize he was the cause of Celina’s final tormenting hours. The torrents of hate that overwhelmed him during the time he had to watch and then death itself, all because of his own stupid fault. If he would have just let it play out, she’d been dead on the first strike and hadn’t been so delayed upon receiving salvation from her torment through death. The whole ordeal had been over treachery as well…A pact…A peace agreement had been made between the two warring groups. The village offered one of their men’s death during a month to two month period of time. And it had been Czarrov’s turn to sacrifice himself for the village. He had been willing to do so, though the thieves on the other hand, had not been. The thieves knew Czarrov needed a more fitting punishment after his rebellion against their own men. So they ended up killing the villagers and burnt the town to the ground. It had been a foolish action since in latter years’, the thieves and bandits soon suffered a fate much worse than death, starvation. The village had been the only thing that provided the bandits with food, upon the agreement of their own safety.

Czarrov’s eyes drifted shut, listening to the patter of rain around them, inviting the soothing noise and holding it dear. He loved the rain and it was rather obvious that he had. Slowly his eyes fluttered open, darting from side to side for anything out of the normal, before shifting his gaze upon hers, “Until the situation grants it…” His voice had been dry and rasp as he spoke, but sharp and full of meaning as he continued to speak, “….Suffer what I’ve suffered and see if the situation grants it……I’ve wanted such relief for a lifetime…In fact two lifetimes….But it seems I can’t do anything about it…These memories….This pain…And this longing desire…All created by the filthy creatures that killed her…” Lowered his chin down and to the left slightly, casting his gaze over his shoulder and away from her sight. Not only had the memories bothered him, but her features…Everything about her seemed to remind him of Celina. Hell, even the attitude did…..Unless his thoughts too were deceiving him into conjuring up something else instead of what he actually was seeing. Like clouded judgment, or sense of perception towards reality having been mixed with his thoughts. Maybe he thought he was seeing Celina for a reason…..It could possibly be some sort of sign; however, it had been an absurd thought in the first place. For the first time he was without an answer for his question, a question that had bothered him this entire time after meeting this woman.