Of Gods and Men

[Kyrisse]

Valkyrja, a self sustaining, bustling city that stood atop the highest mountain. The City of the Gods. A large tower that reached up into the sky stood in the middle. It was said to be the stairway into the heavens itself. Surrounding the tower were houses and structures that seemed old fashioned. But every structure, every stone, every grain of sand in this mysterious empire were infused with magic as old as the world itself.

This prosperous city was populated by god-like men and women who were imbued with the same magic that permeated the realm itself. Both genders shared the same magical attributes but a clear difference existed in their physical appearance. Women had platinum hair and white feathered wings. Men had dark hair and black wings. Differences in their innate abilities also existed. The men had the ability to retract their wings and hide them from view, an ability that the women didn't possess. They also excelled in battle and strategy. Women excelled in elemental magic and stealth.

Kjárr of the House of Valland, was Valkyrja's most respected warrior and captain of the Sentries. He stood taller than any of the male valkyries in the city and had long black hair and dark red eyes. The armor that he wore was made from the toughest of dragon scales the same shade of red as his eyes. His left hand was fitted with claws made of obsidian. His right hand rested on the hilt of the sword that was sheathed and strapped onto his waist.

Kjárr walked to the city's boundary gates. At his presence, the door slowly opened and the sentry walked out. Steep cliffs surrounded the city and to get to it, one had to trek on a very narrow and snaking pathway. The pathway was full of dangers that would turn away any who dared to journey through it. But time and again, several over zealous humans still dared to set foot on the path to try and get to the isolated city despite the obvious danger. The sentry's eyes swept through the area immediately outside the gates. Although his subordinates had already secured the perimeter, he always made it a point to give the area a once over to make sure that everything was as it should be. This was his everyday routine.

---

A ruined temple stood in the middle of the forest. The temple used to be a place where the people went to pray and bring offering to their gods, the Valkyries. But when the Gods have decided to abandon them, the temple became forgotten and was laid to waste, its name also forgotten. The once grand statues, depictions of the winged deities, were destroyed and now laid broken on the floor.

Michael Thomas jumped down from the marble pedestal he was standing on and began hacking away at the foot of the last statue that was still standing. It was a statue depicting Kjárr of Valland with his wings stretched out and his sword held high up in his right hand.

"Useless gods. Your statue shouldn't be left standing like this." He muttered angrily as he glanced over toward the great mountain.

[CorinTraven]

The forests surrounding Valkyrja, Early Morning.

Dew covered the lush grass of these odd forests, greener and livelier than any plant Lysia had ever seen before. The coolness of morning sent shivers up her spine, and despite the embroidered red cloak that protected her shoulders, she was still cold. It was not a place she was meant to be, but the young woman hardly cared, stepping with ease through these untainted woods. Alone, she'd traveled at least three miles away from the encampment of men her father was leading, and planned to turn back soon, before he'd awake and realize she was gone. Even as a young child, Lysia was a particular sneaky, and adventurous creature. With one of the Kingdom's most decorated general for a father, she had to be cunning to outwit him. Now, a woman of seventeen, her ploys only grew more elaborate, and she was surprisingly free despite his protective shadow.

Dainty hands held the silver clasp of her cloak, frozen fingers curling around it, and bright green eyes watching her breath crystallize in the cold. Her home was several leagues away, and there was never such natural forests as these in the great cities of her childhood. Nature enchanted the girl, and so she'd ventured off on her own, stupidly brave, and fearing being caught by her fathers troops than anything truly awful. All around her, white barked trees rose high into the sky, with red leaves forming a canopy above, mingling with beautiful golds and oranges. Everything here was larger than life to her, and as she ventured further and further in, the more alienated the girl felt.

Still, excitement drove her further, and that was when she stumbled upon a decaying ruins, fright striking her dumb when she heard movement within, and the low rumbling of a man's voice. She did not know there were people in these forests, and dressed in a highly distinguishable cloak of a high ranking army officer, Lysia retreated back. Beneath the cloak, she had a cyan-colored dress, a simple thing with tight sleeves and top, but flaring out slightly once it past her narrow hips.

The girl brought the cloak fully around her, it trailed nearly to the ground, meant for a man of better stature than herself. Standing still, and silent, she listened to the man muttering, and kicking around. Her eyes upturned toward the trees as a few birds gave warning caws, and raised from their roust. A chill overtook Lysia's veins at that, wondering what could of frightened the creatures, and praying silently that it was only the man, and not some beast of this grand wild. This is not good...this is not good. Tiberious is going to murder me if he finds out I left...Something-...does that idiot not realize? Something is coming! Excited thoughts provoked her mind, and instead of running, Lysia drew against the trunk of one of the trees, curling small, but sticking out sorely against the snowy bark. She did not care, her hood drawn, listening keenly, and peering with green eyes into the vast forest that had been to her behind.

If she was quick, she could run now, but a curiosity forced her to stay put, sometimes turning to peek at the ruins before quickly drawing back to hiding.

[Kyrisse]

Kjárr turned his gaze down to the land below after he was satisfied that nothing was amiss outside the gates. It had been a long while since their gates had been permanently closed off from the humans. And as a result, the humans have stopped singing praises to them and offering them tribute. In return, the valkyries have stopped lending the humans their strength, denying them access to the magic that abundantly flowed from their hands.

Kjárr's sharp eyes caught the movements in the ruined temple and he turned to watch.

---

Michael reached up and wiped the sweat off his brow. Hacking away with a small axe wasn't doing the job. At this rate, it would take him several days to topple down the huge statue. He threw aside the axe and lifted a huge sword that was on the ground a few feet away from him. With a heave, he lifted it and brought it down onto the statue's leg. Kjárr of Valland's statue shook at the force of the impact, a crack appearing on the stone. Michael gave out a whooping laugh. He should've used the sword earlier and saved himself the time and effort. As soon as one statue leg cracked, he turned and gave the same attention to the other leg. He swung the sword over and over, his face contorted in his effort.

"My family depended on your might their whole lives. Even when you 'mighty gods' decided to abandon us, my family still kept on offering their prayers to you." He muttered angrily in between swings. "Even in their deathbeds, they still had words of praises and glory offered to your names." The stone cracked beneath the sword. "Kjárr of Valland, protector of all that is good and just. You failed to protect those that needed you the most." The stone strained under the weight of the sword and the great statue trembled in its pedestal.

[CorinTraven]

The forests surrounding Valkyrja, Early Morning.


From her spot behind the tree, Lysia saw dust raise into the air, and she heard the awful crack of stone shattering into a thousand shards. Wincing, the young woman stood, and tried to gather the courage to approach whomever was laying waste to the ruins. She was a proud Elysian, not to cower behind trees while ancient artifacts were defiled. Taking a deep breath, the girl went to step forward, blinked, and then returned back to hiding behind the tree. I almost forgot-...not my statue! Has to be pretty strong to tumble it..I best stay here, before I get myself killed. That made much more sense, and so the girl was content with her spot against the tree.

Her father would wake soon, and she knew that she never would be able to make it back to camp in time. Lysia's best hope was to at least get back before he went looking for her, because he'd warned her repetitively of the dangers of these forests. That didn't mean she listened, but he had tried. And when he learned that all was for naught, he was not known for his cool composure.

She was a mixture of emotions, peering back at the ruins with growing curiosity, but an unease had taken root deep within her breast, and her better judgement urged her to leave. Unfortunately, Lysia was an expert at ignoring that annoying little voice that whispered sensible things. Joy and excitement rarely came from what was sensible, so she stayed, no words spoken, just reflecting silently on the monologue of that maniac that was making rubble of statues, and enjoying himself in the process.

[Kyrisse]

The statue teetered for a moment before it came tumbling down. Michael jumped away just as it fell to the ground, breaking off into several pieces upon impact. The blonde haired man smirked as he watched the great statue fall. "That's how it should be." He threw aside the huge blade and dusted his hands, satisfied at his handiwork. His reason why he did it was simple. He didn't think Kjárr deserved to have his statue still standing. None of them deserved to have statues erected in tribute to them. To him these gods were nothing more than a distant memory meant to be forgotten. He walked over to where he had thrown the small axe that he had brought with him.

He didn't realize that he had just gotten the attention of Kjárr himself.

It was the first time in centuries that Kjárr laid a foot on human territory. He stood on the huge pedestal in place of the statue that had just fallen, his blood red armor casting a reddish glow around as the first rays of the sun glinted on it. It amused him that a human would go to lengths just to topple a statue that didn't even have any meaning to him. He looked down from where he stood. Humans had always been fragile, proud to a fault and easy to anger. They were easy to dispose of. He had half the mind to dispose off this one with a flick of his sword but apparently, he wasn't alone. He turned his gaze towards the trees that stood only a few feet away. Another human hid there. A female. She hid herself well enough from the human male but at the valkyrie's vantage point, he could easily see her.

Michael's brow furrowed when he noticed his surroundings turn red. Was is already sunset? He looked up and took a step back as his gaze fell on the towering valkyrie that stood in front of him.

[CorinTraven]

The forests surrounding Valkyrja, Early Morning.

Upon seeing the massive winged creature climb upon the pedestal, a defiant mockery of the man's trivial attempts to destroy the statue of acute likeness, Lysia's expression changed from a fearful excitement, to one of utter horror. A Valkyrie. Though she'd never seen one in person, there was no doubt from the mere proportions of this gigantic man. At least four feet taller than the tallest man she'd ever known, if not more, with a mane of black hair, and jutting wings of the same dark shade. In his armor, he looked awesome, glistening in the sunlight, and casting shadows upon the lesser being. Her fright would be very palpable on her face when he turned his eyes upon this woman, girl even, discovering her despite her cowardice behind a tree. All Lysia could hear was the rhythmic thumping of her heart against her rib cage, blood flowing through her ears and drowning the noises of this accursed forest. No longer was it a game of hide and seek, a real danger now showed itself, and for this, Lysia was terrified.

It took a few moments of numbness for her brain to finally alert her muscles, staring into the eyes of creatures of her legends and peoples past. When they did, she ran, and she ran fast, long strides carrying the girl through the forests without hesitation. When she turned, the crimson of her cloak would be easily visible, marked with the recognizable sigil of the human army, and looking quite intricate at that. It might be a thing of at least interest to Kjárr, because the humans army was his natural enemy. To see a girl, one that didn't look particularly formidable to begin with, wearing the cape of an officer, it might provoke his interest. That would mean there was some sort of military presence around here, and that, indeed, would be something to behold.

She tore through the underbrush, not caring if she cut her cheeks, or palms in the process. Adrenaline fueled each quick stride, and she fled for her father, and life. To the girls extreme dismay, while running, it was nearly impossible for her to retrace her steps. She would need to slow down, and figure out a trial, but hyped up on fear, she just kept running, turning randomly, and hoping uselessly that luck would bring her home. Unfortunately for Lysia, it did not, and soon she was lost, cold air whipping at her reddened face, and her lungs sore from the heavy gasps she required to run for such lengths.

Stopping, the girl spun around, and searched for any signs that she had been followed.

[Kyrisse]

On reflex, Michael bent down and grabbed the huge sword that he had used to topple the statue down. He raised it up, ready for a battle. "I'm not afraid of you, Kjárr of Valland." His hands trembled with pent up anger and excitement. The valkyrie he had been hoping to get a chance to kill had appeared before him. No more hacking at statues and reducing them to rubble. This time, he would lay waste to the valkyrie himself.

Kjárr focused his crimson eyes on the man holding the sword towards him defiantly. Humans were not meant to fight them. They were meant to worship them and offer gifts as tribute. "A challenge?" He asked. If there was anything he respected, it was courage in the battlefield, facing an enemy that could destroy you with one flick of a finger without even flinching or showing any signs of fear. This human may actually be a worthy opponent. He unsheathed his own sword from the scabbard that hung on his waist. The blade glinted in the sunlight. In the corner of his eye, he saw the female fleeing. The cape and the uniform she was wearing didn't escape his notice. It was no doubt that of the human army. He had watched the humans march around like ants from his position high up with the clouds often enough to be able to immediately recognize the insignia.

Michael closed the gap between him and Kjárr, his sword coming down heavy.

Kjárr easily blocked the human's blade with his own. He lifted his free hand towards the direction the female had run to and a wall of flame instantly surrounded the whole perimeter, the flame unnatural that it didn't burn the trees or any plants that it transected. It created a circular barrier that successfully closing off any route of escape for the girl. He would deal with her later.

Kjárr blade clashed and sparked with Michael's.

[CorinTraven]

The Forests surrounding Valkyrja, Early Morning.

As she ran, flames leaped from the ground before her, curling up into the sky and a high wall of red heat making Lysia scream, and scurry to a halt. Her arm partially touched the flames, but quick to draw back, only a minor burn coiled up her scrawny arms, singing away the tight fabric of her gown. A red mark remained where it'd licked her, and in a hurry, the girl drew back. It took her a few moments to realize all around, a ring of fire trapped her. Her heartbeat only quickened in her ears, Lysia's eyes widening with every moment that passed, as the flames did not withdraw, and she realized just how gravely she was trapped.

In the distance, Lysia heard the screech of metal upon metal, and her green eyes flickered nervously behind her, knowing the sounds well enough as two men fighting. Furthermore, she was completely positive in the fact that the human man would die. Nursing her injured arm, the young woman settled down upon the ground, staring up through the flames, and panting heavily. Now she knew she was going to die, and hugged at her knees, with desperate resolve. Why didn't I stay at camp-...Tiberious has to be up now, maybe he's looking for me, maybe they'll find me! A bit of hope spawned, and quickly dispersed as she looked up, and around. No one was about, if they were, they'd of heard her scream.

When Kjárr finished his fight with the human man, and finally came to deal with her, He'd find her in a similar pose. Curled up tight, the girl pressed her face to her scrawny knees, and seemed to be waiting almost patiently for time to pass. What he couldn't see was the anxious look upon her face, or the tremble in her thin fingers. The cloak gathered around her, having burn marks near the end, but the insignia was still intact. Sewn with white threads upon a crimson fabric, it was a twisting sort of star-like shape. The ends however, were conjoined together, and a silver-lining of a falcon was settled in the middle, marking her house, and proclaiming the noble's own specific sigil. He probably wouldn't be so keen to recognize it as the old, but abandoned house of Elysian, for only two remained. And one sat right before him, thinner and smaller than most humans, but an adult, at least almost.

Her blonde hair was tied back only loosely from her face, but with the hood up, the ponytail hung over her shoulder, ending about midway down her torso. A battle raged within between screaming, crying, and sitting in a numbed silence. From her quiet it was apparent which had won, at least for the moment. She was stunned, frightened, and completely awed at the quick turn of her adventurous morning. Never in her life had she dreamed upon seeing a Valkyrie, let alone be captured by a creature that her legends painted as horrible, and she knew there was much strife between her race and her own. For this, Lysia thought she would die, and with her eyes closed, she at least hoped it to be quick.