Prologue

Narrow slits glared viciously at their owner’s angelic foe. The demon’s body wore a cloak of darkness, sheathed in an evil aura. The demon’s darkness ebbed around it in anticipation, eager to engulf all that stood against it. Bloodied claws clenched a sword of nightmares. Created from the very abyss that spawned the horrific demon, this blade reflected its owner’s malicious soul. In contrast, the heavenly body across from the dark warrior wore light for her armor. Shining sockets radiated from her perfect face. Ever-flowing white robes wove restlessly around the angel’s body and wings. The point of her long sword almost reached the dirt ground beneath her, and had she not been levitating, the blade would have hallowed the bland rocks.

The combatants’ hands tightly gripped their respective blades in anticipation. Narrowing the glowing red eyes even more, the demon leapt at the angel with no more sound than the lion trapping its prey. The warriors met, and their titanic battle reverberated to the depths of the ocean. The movements of the two flawlessly complimented the other; not once was there even the slightest opening. Every strike, every slash, was perfectly countered, and every counter was likewise countered. Through the myriad of metal, the angel’s glowing white sockets stared unwaveringly at her opponent with determination, while the black eyes of the demon glared mercilessly at his foe with hatred. Clash succeeded slash, again and again. The yin-yang battle drove its actors in circles, dancing across the entirety of the continent created for the sole purpose of this closing act.

The battle drew on and on, exhaustion playing upon the combatants. Blood began to be spilled, as the perfect styles of the fighters started to break down. Weariness began to defeat them both, but neither would concede, not in this ultimate match. They just simply kept fighting, longer than most mortals could dare to deem possible. Emotionless as only those resigned to end times can be, not even pain slaked the warriors’ battle resolve.

Deepened with the dark blood of the demon and brightened by the pure blood of the angel, the continent slowly began to drown. The demon waded exhausted in the ankle deep sea, whilst opposite him, the angel, breath coming in ragged pants, felt her toes grace the surface of it. The foes stopped moving and stabbed each other with lethal gazes. Slowly raising the demonic blade, wings meant to eclipse hope and smother the sun spread wide. The angel followed suit; wings meant to soothe souls and heal the wounded radiated purity. With otherworldly battle cries, the two champions leaped at each other with enough ferocity to shake the very foundations of the continent.

The charge; the contact; the final cry. It happened so fast even the gods the champions served had trouble following the movement. Face to face, voided malevolent eyes stared into blank white sockets. The two foes fell to their knees, but could go no lower; their weights leaned against the other and were propped up by the blades. The lifeforces ebbed reluctantly yet swiftly from the motionless cadavers.

Vildenisk, the god of demons and of darkness, watched angrily as the lifeforce that was meant to be the death of millions flowed away. Tialera, the goddess of angels and of light, watched helplessly as the lifeforce that was meant to be the savior of millions trickled away. The Battle of Avatars that was supposed to have doomed the world or saved it thus ended. Its fate would wait to another day.

A warrior in chainmail armor materialized from nothingness. Strapped to his back was a sheathed sword, but that blade would know no combat today. He shot a menacing and disgusted glare into the heavens where he knew the gods would observe it. The steel soldier focused his gaze in front of him. The lifeforces of the angel and the demon converged into one; after the dark void of blinding light, the chainmailed-one knelt down to pick up a baby.

The day the world would meet its fate was not far off.