Pain. Oblivion. A void of a world filled with pain. And darkness. That was his world, empty of anything but pain and the absence of light, the other half of his being. Pain. Echoes and throbbing, pulsing, rhythmic feelings of pain. Until he gathered the will and the want to concentrate. The pain ebbed away, but nowhere near fast enough for him. The light came, but it'd never banish the dark within. And the dark within could never fully banish the light. It was a war, and he was the battlefield. With an intake of air, and a soundless explosion high in the air, there he was. Out of nothing, out of the very molecules of the air, there he was. And from there, he plummeted to the earth so many feet below.

His inert form went swirling through the air towards the unyielding earth below. Unconsciously he twisted in the air, trying to remember something in his current state. Voices that weren't his own assaulted his mind, screaming commands at him. But, alas, they were too many at once, too loud in his mind for him to understand. And so his form continued to plummet. Closer and closer he circled through the air, the wind catching up in ebony wings, and one voice stood out around the rest. 'If you wish to survive, act now!' And his eyes shot open, and act he did. With a powerful cracking noise, those ebony wings spread to their magnificent span of a bit more than fifteen feet. The air, caught in his wings, lifted him in an arc instead of straight down, and he just missed by a few feet as he soared right back into the air. Silence ensued, and was quickly broken by a powerful scream of defiance.

The scream echoed throughout the air around him, spanning across the countryside, rocking the very area. It also reached to the Heavens above and the Hells below, calling out to the ones who dwelt in such places. It called to them, letting them know of his pain and of his feelings. They'd answer, and the war would begin. He hovered in the air with hands clenched in fists of rage as the wind tousled ebony locks of hair and feathers. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground below, and stood there in the light of daytime to wait. And wait he did.

His wings spread out to a span of over fifteen feet, his tall frame reaching up a few inches past six feet. His form was well muscled and toned to show off each of those muscles, looking much like his relatives of the Heavens and Hells. All of them always looked perfect with their sculpted bodies. He looked nearly just as perfect, except for one little detail. His body was covered in a latticework of scars, every inch of his body covered. No patch of skin was left unmarked and he bore the scars well. He appeared to have been broken into a million pieces and put back together, and truthfully that wasn't too far from the truth.

The "holy" Angels of the Heavens above had cut him in various places, over and over, until he bled profusely in hopes that they'd drain the bad blood from him for he was a mix of two opposites. He was the fruit of a forbidden union between light and dark. He was the son of an Angel and a Demon, who died for their "sins" of loving each other. Their love brought about him, something that had never been done before, something that was unknown. They feared the unknown, and sought to either force him to their standards or to destroy him. The Demons, too, had a good hand in torturing him to try and make him fit their lifestyle. But, it did not work. He was Light and Dark mixed, and would not abandon one for the other. Both were who he was.

They shunned him from having a home, forcing him away and adding mental pain to the physical tortures he already endured. The Angels and Demons tried to kill him still; they hunted him whenever they could spare the time between their own bickering back and forth. Now it was time to fight back instead of running. So he put out the call with the scream, and he waited, now, for them to arrive.

As he looked to the skies above with pale, ice blue eyes, he saw them descending upon him. It was a group of Angels numbering at ten, splendid in their golden armor with flowing hair of sunlight. They landed off to his right, about twenty feet away, and the earth started to rumble. Off to his left, the same distance away, the earth exploded upwards and a group of Demons, numbering the same as the Angels, came forth with smoke and brimstone.

Each group was surprised to see the other, and moved not towards their target in the middle. Aeli Elros Belas held his arms to his side, facing neither of his adversaries, but rather facing off in the distance. Concentrating his mind and focusing his will, he brought forth the reason the feared him. He brought forth the powers of Light and Dark combined. Around each fist that hung by his side gathered an aura of power whose colors swirled like marble, white mixing with black to make powerful designs. As he concentrated, he first focused towards the Angels. Holding out each hand, the auras of power shot forth, growing as they went.

Before the Angels could react, his power had swallowed them whole and they were no more. They simply ceased to exist. And within a few moments, the Demons were gone as well, simply negated from existence by his awesome powers. Now they had more to fear than just his powers; they had to fear the fact that he knew how to use them, and he was willing. "It stops now. Now I am in control."

War was coming, and it was coming on his shoulders. They would pay dearly, each and every one of them.

::December 22, 2002 09:59 AM

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