The rain abated not in its furious tears as the winds' howls intensified, causing the green shrubberies to shudder against its wrath. The accompaniment to such an orchestra were the heavy metal clangs of the boots from the patrols who scoured the drenched city day and night; like wolves, the ninran footmen would devour their helpless prey without as much as remorse or hesitation. Aside from the soldiers, the streets were bare of any individuals, surely afraid of the tyrants who trampled upon more than just their bones, but, more importantly, their very humanity. It has been four years since the Ninrus Elders have made the proud nation of Vualranur fall on its knees and not once were the cries of murdered vualranians erased from the symphony that plagued the fallen land every night. One might think that a rebellion would be imminent but with the iron fist of the commander, Jabaha, and the military elitism of the Ninran Corps, not many rebels saw much hope other than the usual hit-and-run. On this particular night, the moon's light pierced ever so softly upon the rainy locale as two cloaked figures strode through the rain, their footsteps lighter than most.

"Keep up." the taller person rasped angrily as he quickened the pace with the shorter figure shambling clumsily.

"We've been walking for hours now... I need to rest!" a feminine voice quipped in retort as the two began to rapidly walk towards the inn yonder. They had been travelling from the city of Rakkia with a few stops here and there but when night began to set in, Akriel, the tall traveller, knew that they had make up for lost time. As they neared the location, three soldiers appeared from the shadows, barring their path whilst the icy rain continued to bathe them.

"No civilians should be out this late. You know the curfew." Nelarth, an aged soldier, crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Off with the hoods."

Akriel and his companion didn't budge as the guards began to get agitated by their lengthy defiance of four seconds. "If you ain't gonna get rid of them hoods, I'll do it fer ya, scum!" Ator, a chubby guard, came up from behind the two as his stumpy fingers grabbed the tip of their hoods and abruptly pulled it down. As the cloth unveiled the two, a flash of golden locks greeted the guard from both the male and the female. The man's hair fell to his neck, the strands sticking to his face due to the rain whilst the woman pushed aside hers, revealing the visage of the forgotten princess of the fallen Vualranur empire. However, the grunts didn't seem to recognize the treasure in front of them as what they saw was a mere tool to sate their lust.

"She's purty, ain't she?" Garuga, the lankiest of the triad, licked his lips. "They did break the rule, din't dey? I guess a punishment is in order, don't you?"

"I guess she can help me with the blues, eh?" Nelarth grinned as he stepped forward and grabbed the woman by her wrist. However, never could the lascivious guard expect a flash of green to soar through the air, stilling his veins before he could react. A spurt of blood gushed out from his mouth as his companions tried to process the glowing blade that had been swung at the man's throat, illuminating the droplets of rain into a grimly visage of death and decay. In a moment, Nelarth dropped to the wet ground, dead before touching the earth. The two guards snapped out of their trance as they began to unsheathe their blades.

"YOU GON' PAY FER DAT, FILTH!" Ator roared, raising his rusty blade in the air and heaving it down immediately. Akriel blocked the blade by raising his sword before pushing Ator's weapon up and slashing the fat bastard's belly horizontally. The last guard attempted to flee but Akriel dashed forward, knocking Garuga's blade out of his fists as the enraged Seraph survivor placed his blade on the ninran's throat.

"Oh, don't worry." Akriel whispered grimly as he placed the tip of his sword inside the man's mouth. "This will only be... extremely and brutally painful." The Seraph's blade liquefied into a green substance which entered Garuga's mouth and, effectively, his system. In a flash, Akriel pushed the man away as he pulled his hood over his head with Azrael doing the same. Then... they walked away. Garuga was left speechless, not knowing what had happened. He only knew that something was inside him and, that, it would be the end for him. Still, he tried to run as he got up and began his escape. However, from the corner of his eye, he saw Akriel raising the hilt of his sword. Instantly, a burst of green liquid ripped out from the man's torso as he was left lying on the ground, his eyes opened in shock. The green liquid reformed on the hilt, the sword's blade solidifying once more.

"You didn't have to kill them, you know? You could have just knocked them out." Azrael mumbled quietly, probably not expecting for her cousin to hear.

"You didn't have to leave the throne when Vualranur needed you the most." Akriel replied darkly. "If you don't shut up, I'll cut out your tongue."

The two began to walk quickly once more for the inn that strangely shone brightly as the only light in this eternal night.

---

The two arrived inside the rather warm inn as Akriel wasted no time and went to the innkeeper. "I have guests tonight. Allow them into my room." Akriel instructed as the burly man grunted in response. Akriel and Azrael hurriedly went to the second floor and approached the last door in the corridor. After unlocking the door, they stepped inside and took off their cloaks, throwing it aside in the small basket. The room was quite simple, two bunk beds across each other and a few sleeping bags strewn across the floor. After drying themselves, Azrael sat on the bottom side of the bunk, still drying her drenched hair. Meanwhile, Akriel went over to the window, moping at the depressing sight of such an immense rain. "If you try to escape again, Azrael... I will kill you." Akriel glared at his cousin, though he had hidden that fact for a long time. "The other seraphs might spare you but don't make the mistake of assuming that I will."

The princess' eyes surveyed her cousin. They looked very much alike with their blue eyes and golden hair, still... even if they looked similar, they acted differently. "I understand."

"Good. We'll wait for the others." Akriel hummed his response as the symphony of thunder and lightning shook the skies, accompanying the silent litany of each vualranian-- a hope for liberation, this was their prayer.

The white robed figure slowly walked down the rain drenched street with what appeared to be a wrapped sword resting on his left shoulder. Lightning flashed across the sky revealing that the man wore a light blue mask with a matching plate chest plate underneath his white robe. It had been two years since he had been in Vualranur and he was tempted to just leave again before things got to out of hand, but he had made a promise to his brothers and sisters of Seraph that he would avenge them no matter what.

After another thirty minutes of walking the town finally came into view through the haze of the continuous rain and it took another twenty minutes to reach Rakkia. His feet made little sound as he had his way down the dark street toward his destination when suddenly two armored figured stepped out in front of him. They looked confused for a moment at his appearance before composing themselves and placing hands on their swords.

"You know the law. You are not allowed to be out this late." The taller of the two spoke up.

"Your laws are none of my concern guards. I am not from around here and if you get in my way again you will not be around much longer." Zen told the two as he pushed past them. He knew that they would not let an insult like that get away from them and started to unwrap his sword.

"I told you to freeze. You'll pay for disobeying us." The taller man said as they both drew swords and started to edge around the masked man to come at him from two separate directions. All Zen could do was give a sigh as he grasped the sheath with his left hand and tightened his grip on the handle with his other hand and dropping into a low stance. Zen dodged the first sword and in a flash of motion the owner of the sword slumped to the ground with a head missing.

The Seraph returned to his stance as he faced the other guard who now looked terrified as it had appeared that his friend's head had just fallen off. The katana seemed to have stayed sheathed the whole time as the ground started to become stained with the pool of blood. "I would like you to tell me some information about the Ninrus Colony." There was an arc of lightning run along the length of his arm and leap to his sheath before there was another flash of light and the last remaining guard fell to the ground convulsing as electricity ran through his muscles.

A quick torture session later and Zen was walking into the inn where he was supposed to meet the others of his party. "I'm looking for the room of Lord Nemamiah." The innkeeper grunted and gestured in the direction of the room allowing the man to pass to get to the room. As Zen quietly entered the room he noticed he was not the first one to arrive and smiled under his mask as he slide his katana into his belt. "Glad to see I am not the only one left." He said in a light voice as he sat down in the corner facing the room and the door.

The shadow scampered through the night, with his eyes aimed towards his soaked shoes. At first, it was to make sure he didn't step on anything, but now it was due to fear of making eye contact with any ghouls lurking around in the dark. The silhouette's body froze and trembled at the thought of bumping into creatures of the night, and in turn, his umbrella shook.

"Itzal!" the raven perched on his shoulder screeched, before digging its talons into him. He responded instantly by putting his umbrella away and starting to sprint. If the monsters didn't notice him before, they definitely did now! Itzal sprinted through the wet muddy street as if he was being chased. The pain in his shoulder was nothing compared to the nonexistent beasts he thought could harm him.

"Shit! Mochni why'd you have to do that. We're gonna die probably... No. If I keep on running we'll be fine. The mons-"

Itzal's mumbling was interrupted when he darted into a pair of soldiers, effectively knocking both him and one of the troopers onto the ground. His vision still blurry, the other soldier wrapped their fingers around the young boy's throat and forced him to the ground.

"Yer the wrongdoer who killed our friends aren't ya?!"

"What the-" Itzal couldn't respond as the soldier's grip tightened. He hesitated to grab his knife. Mochni, tired of Itzal's pussyfooting, flew towards the strangler before deftly removing the soldier's eye. Itzal's lips curled and he let out a small chuckle. As the soldier reached for the empty socket, Itzal kicked the soldier off of himself and ran away. His raven followed, after consuming the pretty orb it just plucked.

---

Exhausted from the journey, Itzal slouched into the inn without his usual enthusiasm. Breathless, wet, and tired, he barely managed to say, "Uh, Nemamaiah." The innkeeper led him to the room, and Itzal gladly entered. Noticing the other Seraphs here, he gave them all a wide grin and a wave, before letting himself collapse onto one of the sleeping bags.

"Not a single lick of subtlety or thought of consequence. A wonder that the Elders haven't caught all of them already," Korvus said holding up a glass lantern. Rain fell around him, sputtering on the ground in droplets. The metal light source he held creaked back and forth with the wind.

Three dead bodies were illuminated in front of him. The corpses were mutilated and somewhat dissolved. He could see another in the corner ahead.

Korvus' frowned under the hood of his cloak and shook his head. His face carried an expression of disappointment and irritation.

"In fact, I wonder if the Elders already know and I'm just headed into some elaborate trap. It could explain the dead men before me. Some of those brats have Aethers truly fit for murderous purposes. They probably wouldn't have gone down without a fight," he muttered nudging one of the bodies with his boot.

"But if that was the case you wouldn't be here would you Korvus?" he thought.

He heard a caw above. He looked up and saw a flicker of movement. A raven circled above him.

Korvus sighed.

"Time to get on with this. I wonder what remains after two years," he thought.

He stepped around the corpses and brought up his free hand from a warm cloth pocket. Silver-colored rings glittered from his fingers. He waved his hand and twisted his fingers in elaborate and complex movements then moved it back under his cloak. Another light shone in the road ahead. He knew what it was. It was where they agreed to meet two years past. The Drabanon inn.

Behind him came the creaking sounds of wood being bent unnaturally. Tree roots sprung from the sides of the road. They wrapped around the corpses and dragged them under.

By the time the traveler was out of sight the bodies were gone and only cold wet dirt remained.

The peals of lightning and thunder soared through the skies as a deafening boom informed Akriel that one of his brothers had arrived. Two years have changed a lot of them, some for the better, some not so much. The seraph survivors entered one after the other, prompting Akriel to raise his eyebrow in confusion-- didn't they meet each other on their way here? Still, Akriel couldn't stifle as a smile when it has been quite a while since he had seen them. He had heard rumours of his team, some of them being deemed as criminals and, some, humble vendors and all. They were a ragtag group of avengers, that one was for certain. Vualranur's last hope was contained in a single room with a group of people rallying under a single cause... at least, that's how Akriel would have liked to perceive it. Two years wasn't enough to change everything entirely but in those two years, the mind must have shifted one way or another. Not all of them still believed in the treaty of the Seraphs and the monarchy. If there was something that Akriel knew and understood, it would be the mere fact that they're now here not under the guise of avenging their kingdom; they're here for their own reasons, purposes and motives.

"Korvus is on his way. I've seen him from the window." Akriel replied nonchalantly, his eyes tracing the outline of the survivors. Zen was the first to arrive, the man's visage hadn't rusted one bit. His mask still hid his emotions perfectly, Akriel wasn't so sure if he had solidly seen the seraph's face in the past. If he did, it had long been erased from his mind. Still, Zen looked as capable as ever and the seraph knew that he could count on him. The next to stumble in was Itzal, the most naive in the entire group aside from Azrael in Akriel's opinion. The lad didn't look that much dependable but, then again, two years might have changed the ways of this timid disciple of the guild. Oh, and two years did change a lot in Akriel; it could be said for the majority of them. The next he saw were the Crowley brothers, Darius and Oswald. The two were friendly back in the days but they were more confined to their own world than anything else. Out of everyone, Akriel was wary of the brothers. After all, one brother's knife in your back meant that the sibling's knife is in front of you. Korvus, the oldest of them, could likely be a reliable fellow. While he had a bad reputation of stepping over boundary lines, in these times, Akriel couldn't care less. He would take whatever weirdo in the Seraph was alive.

"Gentlemen." the lad began. "It's been two years since we last gathered like this and, this time, I've brought along someone whom you might be familiar with." Akriel's eyes went over to his cousin. "The last of the Zaazenach bloodline, Azrael Nemamaiah. The cowardly monarch who left Vualranur to burn to cinders." The monarch's cousin walked towards a drawer and pulled out a parchment. "It seems that the Ninrus elders will be visiting Vualranur to inspect their new colony. I heard that the five elders will be toured at different schedules with body doubles also deployed to add to the security measure. Jabaha, the military commander, would also be roving the streets at that time. The most powerful ninran people are out in the open and this could be our chance to take back the kingdom. If the figure heads would be destroyed, chances are, riots will break out and the ninran grip will weaken. However, I don't really know where the routes would be... that would only be my dilemma." Akriel pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing in the process. "If we stir a battle, more or less, rioters might join us." The seraph turned to his cousin who had stayed silent during the ordeal. "But, I guess, our monarch would like something to say."

Azrael raised her eyes to the men surrounding her, she made balled her fists as she exhaled deeply. "I-I know I've done a lot of bad things in my life. I have let a lot of good people down. But, please, don't think less of me. I ask for the strongest guild to lend me their strength so that I can rebuild my kingdom into the shining beacon of glory that it once was." the princess kept her voice moderate, making sure that her words wouldn't leak outside. "Lend me your strength, please. I know we can win."

Akriel rolled his eyes before turning to his comrades. "So, what has transpired in your lives during those two years?"

Korvus opened the door and took a step into the tavern.

His nose twitched as he breathed in the faint musk of wood and smoke. The common area was bustling with discussion and conversation. Wanderers, travelers, and merchants sat among round tables, finding shelter from the storm outside.

"Nobody should notice us among this rabble. Looks like little Akriel planned ahead. That is promising. Maybe the brats learned something in the last two years," he thought.

He blew out the candle in his lantern. His hand went up and removed the hood of his cloak, revealing messy brown hair.

He walked up the inn-keeper. "Just a mug of ale please, and I believe Lord Nememiah is expecting me," he said.

The man eyed him curiously and slipped him a mug of brew. He gestured him to follow.

Korvus' eyes widened slightly. A cold shiver went down his spine. "After all this time, it looks like it may happen after all," he thought.

He was led to a room. He could hear the muffled sounds of conversation. Korvus entered and the inn-keep closed it behind him.

"Well, it has been some time," Korvus said looking at his old guildmates.

To his right were the Crowley Brothers. Or as he remembered them, the Crowley Thugs. "Darius you certainly improved physically since the last time I've seen you. Has your language improved too? You know the common accent isn't befitting of a Seraph."

He turned his eye to the smaller figure next to him. "And Oswald, you are as lithe as ever," he remarked.

He turned toward his left to the figure in white. "And Zen. Your expression and stance just beams with negativity. It has been two years since we've last seen each other. Cheer up! Be positive, you are after all among your last comrades."

He noticed one more figure sleeping in a bag next to the wall. Korvus' attention however moved to the two figures standing in the back of the room.

The two that were the center of this insurrection, and the only reason Korvus returned.

His face was stern as he regarded the man. "Akriel, " he said stiffly before turning to the young woman next to him.

Korvus smiled and his expression softened." Your grace, milady Queen Azrael. It is an honor to be in your presence," he said then he bowed in the traditional Vualranur manner.

Zen looked out at the gathered people in the room through his yellow tinted lenses. These were his brothers who he had served with two years ago as a soldier of fortune. He had spilled blood with these men and yet he did not feel the same sense of loyalty that he had felt those years ago. The reason he had truly returned to the remaining Seraphs was to enact revenge on the Ninrus Colony for the slaughter of his closest friend and mentor, a Seraph who had fallen during the final battle.

This was the first time he was seeing the princess and she did not seem all that impressive to him though he had to admit she was good looking. He listened to all that was spoken in a quiet manner thinking about the information he had gained from torturing one of the soldiers on his way to the inn. The man had not known much but what he did know was that one of the Ninrus elders would be passing through this very town making him a prime target.

"The last two years I have been out of the country working on farms in Jindack. As for the Ninrus elders, I know for a fact that one of them will be passing through this town with his body doubles." Zen said to the group as he rested a hand on his sword handle. "I am not sure when he is coming through but it is supposed to be soon that's why there are so many guards out."

With the mention of Jindack, the masked swordsman's mind soon drifted back to those memories. The land was a small country two weeks travel from Vualranur where he had found plenty of work on farms. He had covered up his mercenary background as he traveled as he tried to run away from his past to start a new life with no fear of fighting ever again.

Closing his eyes and yawning, the weary boy readied for slumber. Itzal's keenness to interact with what remained of the Seraphs wasn't enough to stop him from dozing off; however, the talk between the Seraphs was more than enough to wake him. Although he would have loved to rest, the candlemaker got out of the homely sleeping bag and opened his eyes just enough to see what was happening. The tired teen started to take in his surroundings, which comprised of: beds, his raven awkwardly walking around on the floor, and the two that call themselves the Crowleys. They looked and—from what he had heard—acted frighteningly; now knowing the brothers would be his allies, he grinned.

His black eyes darted around for a bit until Akriel spoke, and the birdkeeper's attention was now directed towards his fellow Seraph. The shadow's eyes were wide open and he listened intently, his lips curling as the discussion shifted to assassinating the ninran figure heads. The idea of letting them experience the same agony that his brother had filled his mind before the princess started to speak. Itzal listened just as keenly to Azrael and gathered this much: the princess is really pretty.

"I was a candlemaker. Still am sorta." He replied then opened his bag and pulled out a medium sized candle whilst smiling. The boy looked at the rest of them wide eyed, curious as to what his allies were up to during those two years.