18: A Pure Past

http://mgefanon.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:Flodoomable/The_Adventures_of_The_Travelling_Ranger_(Link-Hub)

A Pure Past

=Chapter 1: Through the front door.=

The dawn of a new day had not even appeared before Florandus Vindivicus left the inn of a small town near the capitol of the mainland, a story wiser of an old man who had seen the destiny of his ancestors. The ranger prepared for a trip beyond his own world as he set out for the largest city known to the mainland. He dressed himself in a grey robe, taking only his backpack, his sword, and his bow. After a walk through heavily defended lands the young man stopped at the city gates of this great city and admired its incredible walls which seemed to be made from solid steel and a buffer of intricately complex stone masonry that hid the metal from the far seeing eyes. He was quickly stopped by one of four Valkyrie guards that held watch at the gate. The battle maiden looked him over and drew her blade, her eyes where squinted as she seemed to be looking over his body for something specific. “A simple human tainted by horrid deeds and infectious mana, such is the summary I expect you to confess. What is your name and what is your quest.” The ranger stepped back from the blade that was dangerously close to his neck. He raised his hands in the air as if to give up. “Woah, wait… I am Vindivicus, just a simple hero in the making. As you can feel, I have yet to receive my blessing. As for the source of the demonic energy you feel, it isn’t mine.” He took out his demon steel and silver blade, a smirk on his face.. “This is what ruffled your feathers. You see, I didn’t see much harm in claiming an opponent’s weapon before my actual rite of passage.” The Valkyrie’s blade lowered at seeing the weapon and her wings moved behind her back as if to be embarrassed from the remark. She could not help but look over the craftsmanship to the annoyance of the other three guards. Her eyes drew up in disbelief at the young man. “Who did you kill to claim such a weapon?” The ranger shrugged and gave the blade a couple twists in the air. “Not really sure. I killed a succubus with some kind of fancy armour, a clean shot in the back of the head with a simple bow and arrow was all she could take.” Taken back from the reaction the Valkyrie held her own head. “You have not the slightest idea of how dangerous your enemy was, do you? That shot signed your death sentence the moment you fired it. Was it a monster with white wings?” Florandus faked a confused expression and sheathed his sword. “N-no, her wings where purple, does it matter?” The battle maiden gave a relieved sigh. “You are not dead yet then. If her wings had been white you would have brought peril to us all. Go on through, you need someone to protect that empty mortal head of yours…” Quick hand gestures spurred him to move on into the city, one of the four guards flew ahead to spread the word of his arrival. Florandus would have rather had not to be announced to the countless guards and soldiers he could see roaming the streets, but at least he now had an excuse for the Demon Energy that partially made up his weaponry. For the first time in a long while he was stared at by those he passed, every angel, Valkyrie or Hero stopped their chit-chatter to look at the hooded man in the grey robe. He had pulled up the cloth of his robe to hide most of his face; sadly it didn’t help much for his sense of privacy, with men dressed in incredibly looking armor holding back any civilians from him as he walked.

=Chapter 2: A life saver from the past.=

The young man entered a bar which emptied out at his arrival. Normal civilians quickly scrambled out of the door after receiving a signal from a hero near the entrance, and military units pouring into the bar keeping a close eye on the man. The only plus point Vindivicus had in this was that his robe hid most of his body apart from his shoes, hands and his eyes. A man clad in priest wear sat down on a barstool next to him, his sharp voice seemingly familiar. “Do my eyes deceive me, if it isn’t the specialist? It was odd when I reported back to my superiors that they had never heard of a Vincus… That was the name, was it not? I would certainly not have expected you to be an actual hero in training, which would be the case if I were to believe the strange announcement a Valkyrie just made at the recruitment center.” He looked over the young man with judge full eyes. “There is nothing any of us know about you apart from the name I scribbled down on my paper so long ago. Is it perhaps a self-proclaimed right of blessing?” The ranger pressed the tips of his fingers together to seem nervous. “Perhaps my assumption of worthiness was drawn a bit too quickly... But I’m sure there is hero material in me” Behind him the ranger could hear loud laughing and moving armor, as the judgmental group behind him disbanded. Florandus realized the priest was a man he once met and helped with a monster infestation in a small village. The time hadn’t been friendly on him as the priest seemed greyer and with a few more scars on his face. The priest chuckled to himself. “That is not a new story for young men like you, though it is entirely new for such men to carry weaponry from a high-class monster.” To his uneasiness Florandus was once again stared at by the priest. “Had I not put in a good word for you, you might have been executed on the spot. There have been men that came before you with such hard to acquire weapons, telling tales of heroically battling and killing lilim. They all turned out to be incubi that tried to attack the Order from the inside. What they fail to realize is that a Valkyrie has but to stand next to them to figure out their Demon mana emitting identities, they never even make it into the city walls. You however do not seem to have any demonic energy inside of you, merely in your weapons and thank god that they don’t emanate it all around the place.” The ranger got rather uncomfortable, noticing how awful it would have been for him if he had tried to sneak into the city. “I see, does that mean I won’t be allowed to enter the higher parts of the city?” An amused smile came from the saint. “I could give you an estimate on your chances to become a hero, look at me.” Florandus turned his head to look directly into the priest’s eyes; the holy man placed his hands on the side of the ranger’s face which was kind of strange. The priest breathed in and out, a light beginning to glow in his hand which made Florandus scoot backwards away from the priest. “W-what are you doing?” The saint gave him a puzzled look. “My son, I was merely inspecting your soul. I am not trying any tricks on you, my apologies if I frightened you with my actions.” Vindivicus sighed, sitting back down on the stool next to the priest. “Tell me in advance before you do something, okay? I’ve heard of mages tricking others in such a manner, brainwashing them for obvious reasons.” Florandus could immediately feel the judgmental eyes from those around him again, probably suspicious over his lack of trust. Chuckling was the only thing the old man did. “You call yourself a hero; you are more frightened by a simple reading than an imp in a light oven. To be honest, for the little time I could inspect your soul you definitely have something. You seem to not feel guilty after taking a life, if that is good or not is for our superiors to judge. Why don’t you rest for a day, I will go talk to the recruitment office and see if I can get you a performance survey right away instead of having to train at their grounds for a year or two.” The priest smiled brightly at the young man. “You can rent a room in the inn opposite to here, I will send my assistant to keep you company for the time being. We can’t have a stranger roam the streets of our fair city unattended.” Before the ranger could object the priest stood and walked out of the bar. Florandus rested his head on the bar, feeling as if he was being pushed around like a sheep. He spoke to himself, loud enough so that those around him could just barely hear him. “I’m surely hero material, if only I could get a blessing..” He grinned to himself as a soft hand stroked his hand, a young female hero feeling pity for him. “Everything will happen in due time.” The hero left as well, meaning for the ranger that she would now further strengthen the thought among the city’s populace that he was a self-proclaimed hero instead of a spy for the Demon Lord. He got up from his place and left the bar. On the street he noticed a huge difference, most of those that initially stared at him while he walked by now looked him over and resumed his business. It was as if he was already accepted as one of their own, apart from the one or two soldiers who still had their eyes on him. Feeling a bit more at ease he looked around him. A fine inn stood opposite of the bar, a net for any drunk that would barge out of the bar’s doors.

=Chapter 3: Taking dessert before dinner.=

He walked in and without a word was given a key and a pen by the man behind a counter. “Sign your name please.” The ranger wrote Vindivicus on the book page and continued on to his room. In the room he crashed down on the bed. A load fell from his mind, not having to be wary all the time. He could rest there for thirty minutes before his door opened and a little angel holding a platter full of food entered the room. “Is this Vincus’ residence?” The young man far positively surprised with the little girl’s appearance. He smiled, taking the platter he set it down on a nightstand. “For now it is. Who is this little bundle of joy?” The angel giggled with a blush on her cheeks. “I am Vallera, but you can call me Valla. My master ordered me to take care of you for the time being.” Florandus patted the bed for the angel to join him. “I’m Vindivicus, nice to meet you.” He blushed a bit. “I know this is sudden, but can I feel your wings?” The little angel hesitated, but skipped to the bed and hopped on with her back to the stranger. “O-okay, but please be gentle, they are very sensitive.” The ranger smiled and expectantly moved his fingers between Valla’s feathers, sending small sparks down her spine. Her feathers jerked a few times while the angel tried to endure the strange request. The stranger soon stopped playing with her wings. “They are really soft and the feathers are beautiful, sorry did I bother you with my actions?” The angel leaned backwards, resting her back against Florandus chest. She had a cute smile on her face. “No, I have had stranger requests. The priest asked me to model for an artist once, when he left the room I had to take off my clothes. That artist made a silly picture and was taken by the guards and his painting was burned, I wonder what happened to him.” There was an awkward moment of silence from the young man. “…Taken by the guards, yeah that was to be expected. Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to undress or anything.” He got a curious look from the angel who slipped off her dress to reveal herself to him. “I am fine with it, see? I don’t know why you would want me to though.” She yelped as the stranger suddenly pulled her in a tight embrace. Florandus tried his best to resist the nudity, softness and innocence of the angel, but he was too weak and ended up making lip-to lip contact with the angel. Her face turned completely red and in a blind panic hid her face in his chest. “W-w-why did you do that?!” The young man tried his best to keep his now extended pole from getting close to the angel. “I don’t know, okay? It just happened. I couldn’t resist.” Two clear blue eyes looked up between the blond that was pressed against the young man’s chest. Only lovers do those kind of things..” Florandus eyes turned to the side. “I know.. Are you mad at me for doing it?” The angel thought of this for a moment before getting on her knees and smooching the man’s cheek. “No, it was nice... In a way.” For a moment Florandus forgot there where hundreds of soldiers and holy angels outside. “Want to… Ya know, do it more?” The angel sheepishly nodded, she was hugged by the man and the two of them began kissing again. This went on for a little while with the young man exploring and teaching the undressed little angel more of what lust and love had combined.

=Chapter 4: Earning an angel’s wings.=

Florandus and the angel had played their adult game for a large portion of the day, making it mid-day once the two had finished. The young man laid in his bed with Vallera sleeping in his embrace, quietly snoring while resting her soft blond hair against her lovers chest. Florandus was worried about how he would explain this course of events to the priest; it was like sleeping with a friend’s sister after meeting him after a long time. He noticed that the adult game had caused loos feathers on the angel’s wings to fall off, covering the bed entirely with shameful evidence. Surprisingly enough the angel’s wings seemed like they were still complete, as if they never molded in the first place. He carefully stepped out of bed, making sure not to wake the young maiden. He sighed, looking at it all made him worry for what he had learned this innocent little angel the night before. He began picking up the feathers, stuffing them into an empty pillow case. The sight of the girl snoozing peacefully in the bed made him smile, he could only barely resist hugging her again. He placed the pillow in the closet at the back and hoped no one would ever notice. With the evidence gone he laid back in bed, with body hitting bed two small arms locked him in an embrace once again. He held back a laugh as he could see the angel’s adorable drooling face laying their own the pillow during the reflexive hug. Later the angel jumped up from her spot, she seemed worried as her soft wings couldn’t seem to keep still. “Vindivicus, I forgot the time. We are going to be late!” Florandus shot up and hurily dressed himself. “Where do we need to go then?” The angel dressed herself and grabbed his hand, her soft skin making him flushed. “We need to go to the Recruitment office; I was supposed to tell you.” The angel felt a slight jab of guilt as her little wings tried to move the man she was dragging with her. The young man ran along with her, having only a sword and a bow made him feel vulnerable to the many trained soldiers and Valkyrie in the city, but it had to do. With the angel’s wing as a boost, the two made a silly-looking mad dash through the many streets. Passing temples and marble pillars left and right, the houses were built in a roman style, giving off an air of superiority. Shortly they reached a building that had a walled off training ground where young men and women clashed sword and shield. The angel stopped in front of a doorway and motioned inside. In the building was a desk visible with three individuals behind it, one with two tucked in wings that would probably expand to great sides and another with six much smaller wings, in the middle was an old grey-haired man with a set of glasses on his long nose. The ranger breathed in and out deeply before humbly walking into the building, into the sight of the three judging eyes. To either side of the desk where a few soldiers seated, one of which seemed familiar. Florandus squinted his eyes as he tried to recognize the back of the head till he realised that it was an unfortunate meeting. His eyes had met a hero from the past that had seen him commit a grave deed, one the bearded man would definitely not have forgotten. Vindivicus sighed and refocused on the desk of man and angel. The two angels seemed to be locked in a fixed frown, while the grey-beard seemed amused, like seeing yet another student at his doorstep ready to prove themselves. “Is your name Vindivicus?” The ranger bowed to show his respect. “Yes, my lord. Vindivicus is my name.” The greyling laughed and held his hands firmly together. “A man with honeyed words, that could make a fine addition, but we need to assure that you are what you say that you are. Any man can tell me he is a dog, when in reality he might be a wolf. Are you ready for the survey that might change your life?” The young man swallowed, having possibly taken too much hay on his fork. The grey-haired man’s smiled widened at seeing Florandus swallow with build-up nerves. “Oh, this will be a fun one to do.” The man and the two Valkyries stood up stretching out their arms to the ranger; the angels spread their wings for him, beginning to glow in a beautiful silver light that made the ranger feel pleasant and warm throughout his body. After what seemed like a century the warmth dissipated, giving the young man a chill down his spine. He looked at the three figures who sat back down, the angels keeping their frown without change. The old man shook his head in a disappointed manner. “No, no. It’s all wrong.. Your physical body is strong and fit, but your muscles are slender, any monster could overtake you like you are. And together with that there is something else that made it clear as day.” He held his hands to the sky as if to declare to the heavens. “You may be skilled enough to be a hero in the future, but your heart cannot tell lies. Your heart does not lie with mankind. You did not come here with the desire to become a hero, nor will you become one because of it.” He sat back down and placed his hands on the table. “Your silver tongue may fool a kind Valkyrie, but it cannot fool the ears of the silver city.” The old man motioned to the door. “This place is not your home but you did not come to cause harm either, so for this one time you are given the chance. The chance to leave this city alive.” Florandus was shocked, his body language, his words. It had done nothing for him, with a hung head he made up his mind and submitted to defeat. He turned around and walked to the door.

=Chapter 5: A trial by combat.=

He barely made it to the door when his shoulder was grabbed and pulled around, painfully so as he winched. His eyes went big as his gaze stared into the eyes of the bearded man from before. The hero glared at his face and spoke with a thunderous force. “It is YOU!” The man let go of Florandus shoulder and stepped back, drawing his sword. “You are the ranger, the coliseum shooter, the murderer of my king!” Florandus stepped back, out of reach from the sword and holding up his hands innocently. “Wait, don’t kill me. I don’t know who that is, but it isn’t me, I swear!” He tried to keep up his vulnerability, making a bloodbath among the countless heroes and angels would certainly be his death. The only way was to spit on his pride and play a coward. Instead of the exit, the ranger ran to the desk. The angels stood up drawing their weapons as well, but to their surprise the stranger merely hid behind the wooden furniture. As the beard came closer with his sword at the ready, an angelic hand was outstretched stopping the hero. “Halt in the name of the Chief Goddess, explain thyself.” The Hero pointed his sword at the desk. “That man committed a horrible crime and must be punished for it.” At that point the ranger jumped over the desk and ran out the entrance, cutting the bearded hero’s explanation short and forcing him into giving chase. As Florandus ran, he could hear the clattering of armored feet. He ran past the angel, who was politely waiting and talking to the female hero from before. The young man ran onto the battlegrounds, the commotion he and the bearded man behind him caused made the trainees look up in surprise. They cleared the way as the sword from before together with a shield where pointed in his direction. “I won’t let you escape, you hellspawn! Battle me like a man.” The ranger grinned as he heard some trainees mumble between them. “Did he not hear the rumors?" "The demonic energy is just a weapon?" "I heard that the guy is not an incubus..” The ranger’s grin angered the hero as he ran forth with his sword drawn. Florandus quickly drew his own demon steel and silver blade, but after blocking one slash and nearly being sent into the sky he understood that the hero’s strength greatly eclipsed his own. After taking in his enemy the young man could see that the bearded hero was clad in thick armor all the way up to his neck, the joints between heavy armor were covered in thin chainmail. Having taken in the weak spots he dashed forward, jabbing and stabbing at the hero. More than once was his blade pounded away like a rubber ball against the hero’s shield. He had to slump through his knees to not receive a slash in the side. The ranger made a quick stab into the hero’s dominant elbow and scuffled back, jumping back to his feet and inspected the hero’s composure. The hero’s arm shivered uncontrollably, the demonic energy and the hero’s blessing causing the wound to fester and heal at the same time. The demon steel seemed to cause a battle for control over the wound’s healing speed, tearing skin that was healed just a second ago while the demon silver had given the arm a lot of fatigue. The hero’s hand gripped more tightly onto the hilt of his blade before it was released. It seemed the ranger had cut the nerves in his arm. The bearded man spewed a line of unholy curse words as he resigned his arm, making the angels look more than a little surprised. But before Florandus could celebrate he was charged by the shield. Even after putting the blunt side of his blade against his unused left arm, still was Florandus launched back by the sheer force of the shield’s barge. He was easily thrown to the floor. He tried to get up, but could see something strange to his opponent. The bearded hero was shivering all over, and it wasn’t due to the corruption. It looked like some light emitting aura around him began to waver; the man became slower as the heavy armor weighed down on him, as if his strength was seeping out of him. The hero was about to collapse, running at Florandus again and bashing the shield against his face. The ranger instinctively struck forward with his blade, impaling the bearded man on top of him and feeling faint from the face-bash. For a short second it felt as if something from the hero passed into him, warmth that relaxed his muscles and stripped them of fatigue. This was short-lived though. Florandus coughed, feeling a man as heavy as a stone statue crash down on him, with this the ranger shortly lost consciousness.. For that moment he saw only a bright light among a large darkness and a faint voice of a stern maiden. “Come to me.”

=Chapter 6: A unique invite.=

The young man opened his eyes and noticed he was laying on the ground, the hero atop of him a mere corpse with a blade through his chest as he washed them both in a pool of blood. The warm feeling from before had passed and the fatigue had found its way back as well. He squirmed under the heavy load that weighed him down; soon enough two recruits pulled the dead hero off of the ranger. The demon steel kept cutting the wound larger and larger as the demon silver sipped out the last of the mana that once gave the corpse life. Looking up the young man’s eyes met those of the trainees, the angels and the old surveyor. The man kneeled next to Florandus and spoke with an unsure tone in his voice. “It seems that your enemy was stripped of his blessing before you were killed. He fled from stopping a grave danger before, and so it is no surprise. But I felt it, for a second the blessing waved over you. It has not perceived you as worthy to wield it, yet you must have felt it. Did you hear a voice, a command, or maybe even a declaration?” Florandus still felt pain in his face, he questioned whether he had broken his jaw, luckily it appeared not with him being able to move it without problem. He did not feel clear enough to think and simply stammered out his answer to the old four-eyes. “Come to me?” He grumbled, holding the side of his face with a hand. The angels gasped. “What gender did the voice belong to?” The ranger sat up and shook his head in an attempt to shake off the wooziness. “Female.. I think.” The old man pondered this answer over deeply. “I see, perhaps that means you are to enter the silver city after all. Maybe she feels she can convince you to be a hero herself.” The young man was helped to his feet by the trainees, covered in blood and sore from a short one-sided battle. Florandus regained his focus, seeing a small crowd that had gathered near the entrance of the training fields. The to-be heroes, soldiers and civilians oogled at his bloodied posture, the dead hero beside him and the demonic blade in his hands. At this rate the whole city would come to believe he willfully killed the hero, he at least felt some safety in that he was not the one to start the fight. Before he could retreat to the inn, a hand pulled him by the arm back into the recruitment office. One of the angelic warriors had dragged him inside and gave him a glaring stare. “Take off those rags, you look like an amateur butcher who cut an artery and forgot to not let the blood hit your face.” Florandus grumbled, not feeling like he could laugh at the silly description while taking off his now red-stained robe and chestplate for the valkyrie. The holy guard glanced over his figure, pointing with a judgmental finger to his undergarments. “Those too.” The ranger went red and held his underwear with both hands, preventing it from being stripped. Behind him came the old surveyor, chuckling at the display. “Don’t worry young man; unlike those monsters she has no interest in the desires of the flesh.” The young man looked confused to the grey-haired man. “But why take off my underwear too?” The surveyor walked to the back of the room they were in and took out an outfit akin to that of the trainees. A white tunic with crosses knitted onto the shoulders and an emblem of the capitol fitted onto the chest. He put a hand on Florandus shoulder and held it firmly. “It would be better for you to wear this than bloodied clothes, your opponent also called you a murderer of a king and the shooter of some coliseum. One of our trainees just told me that fits the description of someone the order has a particular interest in. The ranger was set down at a table after changing his clothes, to his concern the ranger was now lacking the length of his robe to avert some attention off the two corrupted weapons he carried. As if the aura wasn’t enough, the blood on the sword accentuated its presumably evil origin. He was dressed in a sturdy tunic, armed with a sheathed sword and a hung up bow with a quiver of improvised arrows hanging on his lower back.

=Chapter 7: White lies.=

Florandus was sitting in a chair; the two Valkyries at either side of him while the grey-haired surveyor from before sat opposed of him. The old man began the conversation with a serious look of concern, he was brought a caricature of a man dressed in a green robe and sporting a bow, the face was hidden in the shadow of the robe, presumably to cover the fact that nobody was left to give an accurate facial description. He slid the sketch to the ranger. “Some time ago there was a robed man with a bow. He was told to act as executioner in the coliseum by shooting down monsters that were about to misuse the souls of the fighters there, but instead of killing them he released werewolves to the audience which resulted in the death of countless men and corruption of women. More than a quarter of the city’s populace was either killed or converted, among which the king and queen. The hero you killed was supposed to have stopped that hooded man, but chose to throw his pride into the wind and decided to flee. That same hero pointed at you, a robed man that just entered the city for no reason and that cached like a hero. That got him killed, this is quite the coincidence. You even have a bow like that evil coliseum shooter. How will you defend your plea?” Florandus took a deep breath and looked down to his hands, formulating the words in his head. With a straight face he looked up eye-to-eye to the man. “Look.. I’m just a man who bought a robe because it would shield me from heat, cold, rain and snow. A simple adventurer that uses his bow for hunting and a sword for averting monsters. That hero would have attacked any poor sod that would have worn such clothing; his mind was worn by the guilt of abandoning all those humans in the coliseum after all. That I’m alive is mere luck and my training against the wicked monsters, nothing more.” The surveyor kept up the stern look for a little while longer, then his facial expression visibly calmed. “Your eyes tell me the truth, though we’ve learned before that you are a good actor. As we have no evidence we will let you go for now, but don’t expect that we won’t be watching you. After all, you were ordered to pay our lady a visit.” Florandus hurrily rose only to feel one of the angelic warriors pull him back on his chair. “Wait, I thought you would let me go?” The old man chuckled his trademark laugh again, motioning to the young man’s tunic. You already wear the traditional clothes that show your humbleness to god, we can order you to do anything or execute you as the supposed coliseum shooter if you refuse. You were ordered to go to heaven, pray that you do not stay there.” Florandus felt a shiver down his spine as he retraced the strange threat.

=Chapter 8: A one-way passage.=

Soon thereafter he was escorted back to the inn where the angle from before waited, something seemed to be wrong with her mental state. She took a few steps back from the ranger as he was taken to his room. Florandus waved his hand to follow her, but once she entered his room and noticed the large-winged Valkyrie guarding the door inside the room she meekly stayed in the doorway. “Sir Vindivicus.. You took the life of a good man. Why?” He sighed and patted the bed next to him as he sat down. To his discontent Vallera did not comply, keeping close to the door with the quick escape route. “Valla, didn’t you see him? He was trying to kill me; he was completely out of his mind.” She angrily flapped her wings as she yelled. “He was a good man; he did not need to die! You could have run around till someone stopped him for you.” She got small tears in her eyes, sniffing for a lost life. The Valkyrie standing guard shook her head and stroked the hair on the little angel’s head, calming her down. Valla stopped fluttering her wings and became quiet from the petting. Her little sniffs stopped too and she went to sit on the bed seeming down. The ranger moved his hand around her waist and let her rest her head against his shoulder. She looked up at him with her beautiful blue eyes. “You won’t hurt anyone else anymore, will you?” Florandus gave his little angel a sweet smile and a peck on the head. “I won’t hurt anyone anymore..” His little white lie worked as Vallera closed her eyes to doze off against him. When looking up he noticed the Valkyrie was glaring at him, judging him in the presence of a pure innocent child. She glanced between the angel and his demonic weaponry, huffing when he was about to speak. He quickly forgot about the death of the intrusive hero and got a mischievous smile back on his face. He patted the bed on his other side, hoping the Valkyrie would accept, she shook her head and tipped her hilt. “It is my task to guard, not amuse." The ranger cooed to her as he patted the spot again. “Please? You are still close enough to guard me and Valla would like having a wing around her shoulders other than her own.” The Valkyrie shook her head dismissively, making the ranger pout. “Well, you’re no fun..” He looked around the richly decorated room, even for a simple in it is still a place to stay in the capitol of the human lands. Ornaments featuring holy figures were everywhere. It made the young man slightly uncomfortable, but he had not been asked for a bill yet, so he couldn’t complain. He decided to rest for now, with his angelic watch hound keeping him in the room. It hadn’t been long before there sounded a knock on the door. The six-winged Valkyrie let herself in to the pleasure of the other Valkyrie that had seen nothing more than Florandus waiting for an hour. “Sir Vindivicus, if that is thy real name.. It has been confirmed, thou are called to the Silver city. We will depart at once.” She meant it quite literally as she stepped to the bed, laid the angel to rest on the bed instead of the man and pulled the ranger off along with her. The six-winged angelic warrior spared no second to let him prepare, dragging him out of the inn while closely followed by the other guard. The two escorted the man to the middle of the city; they passed into a building through several heavily guarded large doors. There they came into a large room which had a huge spherical structure that coursed with a gentle light. The light was so dense you could not see beyond it, yet it did not blind any who peered directly into it. Florandus felt his composure ebb away as he was pulled closer to the strange device. “Hold on.. Wait. I’m not sure if I want to go in there.” The large winged Valkyrie giggled girlishly. “Tis merely a portal, you mortals are so easy to frighten.” The other Valkyrie grinned as much as the other giggled. “Whether thou are hesitant or not, thee were ordered to enter. So it’s either thine head into this gateway or on yonder block.” Florandus sighed as he was taken into the light. “For angels you are far too morbid..” As soon as he went through the portal, pleasant warmth flowed over his body, seeping into his pores. The light diminished and his eyes were greeted with the sight of a huge city. The roads where painted in gold and the many stones in every buildings seemed like pure silver, much like the wings of the angelic warriors themselves. The city was built like a mountain, nine large walls with each dividing the city up into 9 different districts. To the right directly next to the gateway he could see a barracks with a training ground much alike the one in the Order Capitol, there he could see Valkyries sparring with men and women in gilded armor. It was most likely here where heroes where trained after receiving the blessing. The first step Florandus took on the sacred soil announced his presence, the gilded stone under his feet turned black. The Valkyrie and heroes in the area stopped their sparring, their attention drawn by the corruption that was unmistakable in this land. The ranger took his second and third step, each turning the golden soil to black bedrock. Behind him the black spot where he once stood slowly turned the bedrock back into gold; this place was not so easily corrupted. His demonic sword and bow trembled at each step in this strange place, the energy inside having only its density to thank for not shattering or breaking under the pressure of the heavy purging power present in the air. If an incubus where to enter this place he surely would be turned back to his human state on the spot, for monsters however it would be a worse fate. Not having spirit energy at all would mean the creatures would be torn apart from merely being here.

=Chapter 9: A divine sight.=

Florandus was escorted through the many gates that led to the centre of the city, silently he was led by a Valkyrie at either side and at the back a few more who had deemed it necessary with the corruptive weaponry in mind. The ranger tried to ask the angelic warriors on several occasions about the things he saw on his way through the gates, but the angels did not answer. The young man could see the increasingly better way of living with each gate he passed. The first few gates showed a normal city with normal angelic citizens, female forms as far as he could see with each having two or four wings. They had markets and stores like any city had, surprisingly modest for a city literally made of silver and gold. Most where dressed in simple Valkyrie battle gear or well-made tunics and dresses. The later few gates showed bath houses, large manors and coliseums and many warriors or fancy dressed angels with six smaller wings wearing the finest velvet and other such commodities. Once the ranger reached the last gates, his entourage was replaced with six silent, fully armored Angelic women larger than him. Their armor glowed a faint light and their six silver wings were long and majestic, the angels carried large spears that seemed as much decorative as they looked deadly. The young man stole glances at the voluptuous females, only to receive glares of disgust through the barely visible eye-holes in the hefty impenetrable armor. Once through the last gate the ranger’s eyes met with a huge cathedral, though if seen from the side it surely would have looked like a palace. A long walkway lead into the beacon of purity and along both sides of the path stood the same heavy armored angelic paladins in strict formation. Walking on the path and leaving blackened footsteps in his wake, the young mortal was escorted to the palace door. There the escort stopped and one of the paladins pushed open the door on a creek, motioning for the ranger to enter on his own. Intimidated by the long walk and the silence that was paired with it, the ranger sheepishly glanced around the cathedral’s interior. Along the walls stood statue of voluptuous angels, dressed in only silk that would have been their only cover from the world. Even though these were just statues the craftsmanship was tremendous and the bodily features were clearly visible through what was meant to look like a silken nightgown. Looking up he noticed that the ceiling was almost entirely made of glass, not mere glass, but glass that had different colours and portrayed many tales including one image where a naked maiden with a halo and a scantily dressed maiden with horns, wings and a tail stood opposite of one another. The image captivated Florandus for a moment before a soft, but dominant voice echoed through the cathedral. “Thou deserveth praise for coming to thy master bearing corruption-clad arms.” The ranger looked away from the image in the glass ceiling, but his eyes widened so much more at seeing the appearance before him. On an altar in the middle of the cathedral stood a beautiful pure woman, she seemed barely thirty years old with blue eyes and golden hair. Her body was surprisingly undressed, showing her female features through a thin see-through silk that covered her body like a nightgown. Her breasts and female-genitalia seemed untouched by all and a faint smile was seen on her lips. Florandus stared in amazement at her naked body, but the longer he looked the worse a sudden headache grew in the back of his mind. It forced him to look away from her exposed body, earning an amused chuckle from the woman. “To walk the earth as thine life showed thee is praise for the soul, but to look upon it with lust is a sin nonetheless.” The headache quickly faded from the young man’s mind, but knowing how it grew he kept his eyes to the ground.

=Chapter 10: Visiting mother above.= The gilded maiden stepped closer to him, stopping to cover his eyes with her hand. The hand felt warm to the touch, though it felt cold whenever he tried to enjoy the moment. The woman raised his face so she could inspect him, her hand moved to his forehead so he was forced to keep direct eye-contact with the goddess. “we are what thine mortal species calls ‘The Chief Goddess’. We have called thee to see what has become of a seedling that sprouted too soon.” The ranger looked into her eyes, which seemed so deep he could become lost in them. Once again this alluring sight brought a headache to his mind, making him close his eyelids. “Such a pity, the fruit bares nothing from its tree as thee can only see us with lust-filed eyes.” This was what the ranger reminded of his quest, the sole reason he came to the order city in the first place. “M-my father, the tree?” The goddess smiled and took back her hand from his forehead. She took hold of the demonic word that was sheathed in the ranger’s scabbard and pulled it out of its protected cover; the weapon trembled in the hold of the goddess, but did not break. She stepped back from the young man and moved her finger over the weapon’s dull side. “Thou arth in the possession of a Relic of the Gods, activate it for us.” As if on command the ranger put his hand in his backpack and took out a small rune-covered ball, he squeezed it in his hand and a fine red mist began pouring out of the ball. The red mist spread itself around the room in a sphere as the room itself was far too large to completely fill with the red mist. In this sphere around Florandus and the goddess some of the mist accumulated and formed into a see-through version of a ranger, a man looking older and more experienced than Florandus. The young man opened his eyes and stared at the red misty ranger. The misty form soundlessly spoke to another form of red mist that formed itself into the Chief Goddess. The gilded maiden smiled amused as she inspected her own red misty version and that of the elder man. “Marvelous, no other words are more appropriate for this Relic’s inner workings.” While the two misty forms spoke, the real Goddess motioned to the elder man. “Thine father was a fine man after he abandoned his earthly binds.” Florandus looked confused as he looked over the misty ranger. “Is that my father?” The goddess spoke in a delighted tone. “It is indeed, Vincus Vindivicus, the hero of the Silver City.” Florandus tilted his head, inspecting his father’s form. “So I am the son of a hero, and you brought me here to become one too?” The goddess stepped back to the young man, her bosom jiggling ever so slightly as she walked. Her hand rested on his shoulder and once again radiated pleasant warmth over him. “Heavens no, that man released himself from thine peasant mother after spreading his seed in her womb. Only after he cut contact with her, was he ready for his blessing to join the other protector here. It was disappointing at the least to see him struck down in his prime.” The ranger looked to his side over the goddess alluring body up to her eyes. “How did he die?” The goddess pulled him close and whispered into his ear in a soft and calming tone. “Don’t worry our child, there are dangers beside that vile Demon Lord, but you wouldn’t understand.” At this the red mist broke up the two forms and drew back into the ball. The gilded maiden promptly released him and moved another finger over the demonic blade she was holding. “Such corruption, sadly it is no secret who gave you this weapon.” She sheathed the weapon back in the ranger’s scabbard and behind them the door of the cathedral opened. “Don’t let impurity become thy core.” At the doorway an angelic paladin entered holding a long rectangular silver box; the guard walked the steps to the young man and the goddess and bowed to her master. The Chief goddess stepped back to her altar, moving a hand through her long gold locks of hair. “Thou arth not worthy of my blessing, yet Vincus blood still flows in thine veins. Take this gift and do as thee wishes, know that thy father did not die in vain.” The angelic warrior opened the box, showing the sword and bow within. Holy weaponry that could not be held by corrupted hands. Florandus was hesitant to accept. He took the sword and scabbard and fastened it to his belt; the bow was placed on his upper-back with the demonic one. To his discomfort the ranger could feel the angelic and demonic weaponry on his person fight a small battle over whose energy was the dominant one, luckily it did not take long before he got used to the feeling. The goddess gave the young man one more unintended show of her beautiful body and a strong headache to match it before waving him off. “We no longer require thine presence, may luck deem thee its companion.” The ranger was taken by the arm and quickly taken out of the cathedral by the box-bearing paladin.

=Chapter 11: Making a break for it.=

The ranger was led back out of the city and back into the Order capitol where a small crowd had gathered around the building housing the gateway to heaven. Florandus hid his face with his hands and tried to keep as little of his face visible as possible from those that stared at him. Once securely outside the building the Valkyrie left him and returned inside. After that it took the ranger a few hours pushing through the crowd and trying to get away from the mob that had a hundred and one questions for him. With pushing, pulling and the help of some Valkyries who had seen heroes being ‘eaten by the crowd’ before the ranger finally reached the outer gates of the city, running away as if someone had stuck a hot iron in his firm bum. After a bit of running the ranger hid in the nearby woods, panting heavily from the stressful experience. He quickly checked if his holy and demonic weapons where still there, to his ease they were. One thing however was now stuffed under his tunic while it wasn’t there before, Florandus looked at the item and went pale. What he was holding was a small bag of angelic feathers and a note inside that read: “We know what you did to poor Vallera!” The ranger sighed awkwardly, putting the small bag in his bigger bag. Now loaded with the new items he set out to get his ice-picks and green robe back so he could once again resume travel.