Let Chaos be undone. [Sophia & Harina]

[Unter]

Harina's plan had worked. As righteous fire surged through the dark of the night, the smell of sweet victory over monstruosities enraptured Sophia. The moths, those devious and terrifying abominations that twisted the Light in their own weapon, were defeated. Their twisted wings were blackened by the holy flames that fed on the thatch houses, and in this moment Sophia knew that this was why they were here.

In an instant, the creeping darkness that poised over the village was breached. It was a beautiful thing. The sun light couldn't pierce the thick leaves, but Humanity managed to create a substitute to win over the dark : An inner fire, beautiful and dangerous. It would die down in the coming moments, maybe spread to the surrounding wilderness. But it didn't bother Sophia. But something left a black mark on this glorious moment : The stench. Dozens upon dozens of corpses lie piled on the roof of the buildings, some thrashing around in some grim manner. 

They had dealt with the moths quite successfully. But the note on the bounty board was quite precise : There was a cult there. But the notion of bringing one of its wretched member back for more pay was simply unnacceptable. Toustain and Volundr had cowered before Sophia and Harina's resolve. They wanted to leave ? Now ? Unacceptable ! The mere thought of letting this matter unfinished made Sophia retch. 

Let them. Let them cower in fear, let them cower in their darkness. They wanted to abandon the Light, they wanted to mindlessly plunder and burn this place to the ground. In a sense, the Sisters had done this. But for a much better cause. And now, they had taken care of the lower ring of the village. The cult was surely on a hill, were the old ruins of this place former's glory awaited them. Sophia opened her helmet, and said to Harina :

"Sister. With all that noise behind us, they surely know we are here. We must advance and take immediate action. They cannot be prepared to face our combined might. But, let us take the safest route. I saw them sally out to the village, if we strike them were they left, they will be weak there. The Light protects us. And they have only darkness to hide in."

[relentless]

|| Harina ||

In the cinder of ruin, the village, once corrupt and infested with horror beyond comparison, now slain and put under the boot of Harina. With Toustain and Volundyr forgoing the reasoning of their superiors, the ones who held the line, the ones who truly fought and bled, and fleeing in the shadow to avoid the hold of evil that was upon them all; Harina held inner vitriol toward the two who had fled from their ranks. Deserters, the lot of them, to forgo sense and stray from the light, to stray from the fight of good and into the field of neutrality. The field of cowards.

Bastards.

Under the hubris of the dawning sun, Apelion rouse from worlds edge with slowly increasing glory. The shadows that once donned the alleyways and streets became vastly more visible, the glow of glory showing the purged corpses of the winged ones. A heavy scent of burnt wood and strong ash filled the air as the fires began to settle, and the enemy in turn, ceased to be. From where they had fought last, it would have been near the church, a fabulous thing now free from the cultists reign, though sadly, Apelions home had to be returned to that of ash and ember as not to invite evil once again at his doorstep.

Near one of the burned down houses where like the others had became a skeletal corpse of what was a hovel, Harina was busy slowly crushing her heel onto the head of one of the moths that she had struck down like a fly with her righteous mace. It squeaked for a little while under Harinas oppression, its spindly insectoid arms reaching out to the sun, as if wanting absolution from the the Sun God. But with little time to bask in its glory, its small, frail insect head would suddenly collapse as Harina stomped hard with her boot heel. Dead.

Harina was worn, and tired from the battle, it would've been less hurting on body and soul if they had the aid they needed. But the job was almost done. Almost. From where she stood, she flexed her boot into the mud, savoring the purge of the cowardly evil that they had removed from this village, before her soft but cold features looked onto Sophia. Blackened streaks of what seemed to be smoke and ash resting on the surface of her face remained, the woman's expression clouded with fatigue, but eyes holding that unwavering flame, though likewise a hint of partial fear. The evil here was... vast, more vast than she expected. Weak, but plentiful in numbers, and the environment even more tainted than the things inhabiting this land.

The words were taken into account, in response, the Vestal, looked onward from where the lines of hovels had once been, looking over the many moths that had been reduced to piles of cooked insect filth. She took the sight in, before she looked down, and sighed through the nose, before she looked up and nodded at Sophia, stoicism apparent in her expression. Tense, serious, her duty overcoming her emotion and morality.

"Let us sally forth, Sister. The two of us, together, will strike them down in the name of the Griffin, and in the name of Apelion, shields locked, and swords raised!"

Harina gave a hard nod, no smile or positivity was had, but in the seriousness of her face, held a strong sense of trust, perhaps companionship. After all, they were both sisters that had fought evil in the view of the Sun God. With the book of the order by her side, she raised her bloodied mace up toward the dawning sky, its shape gave off the shadow in the mud, sun-like in appearance, a rally to the crusade that was at hand. Harina looked onward, the white of her hair glistened with glory, and her expression like marble. Glory made manifest.

"We march forth, let none stand before the might of hate, the power of anger! Let none stand before HIM!

APELION!"

From Harinas mace, the glow of her faith shined and illuminated the weapon with sickly incandescence, eyes shimmering a bright orange, before returning to their natural hue. The fury of what she was, the anger of her soul, and the might of her will, made manifest.