@Jollan@Rai@geurlsJust as Mason had originally expected, surveying the land made him feel much better. Soaring high in the sky had a way of calming his nerves; the tension that had been building within his body slowly began to dissipate. As Mason continued to glide about, his now carefree mind began to wander. The soft golden light of the midday sun illuminated the vast landscape below, this was the first time such a beautiful sight had graced Mason’s eyes. As a slave in Nero, the world he had come to know was darkness, cold, imprisonment, and pain; a tormented existence, a far cry from the warm, free, and vast world now before him.
Warmth. That word pulled Mason into memories of the past, a past not quite free of pain, but one before he knew the true meaning of pain. Closing his eyes, he saw small group of young seraphim slaves huddled in the corner of a cold, dark room, a soft light radiating from the center of their tightly knit forms. The source of this gentle warmth was none other that the hands of a seraphim toddler that had an array of infantile nub-like horns sprouting from its head. Between the child’s palms floated a pale flame, reminiscent of a star in the night, it was this flame that gave the children their only consolation,
warmth. Though this memory was not to last, as images of fire, death, torture, and pain raked Mason’s mind. As he fell deeper and deeper back into the darkness of his past, a loud yet frantic voice broke his trance;
”Mason! Get down! Get behind me!”
Suddenly snapping back to reality, Mason realized his party had been ambushed! An arrow grazing his cheek as it whipped past him.
”Shit!” he hissed as a single crimson bead rolled down his cheek, dodging the flurry arrows that followed. Without warning, a sheet of darkness fell over the area around his comrades, and for a moment, the arrows ceased. Through the dark sheet, he could barely make out what appeared to be Dremmick felling a group of their sudden assailants, but a pair on horseback remained.
Bringing his wings close and entering a dive, Mason drew his sword, igniting it with a black flame. Swooping down nearly all the way to the ground, he opened his wings once more, halting his decent, but continuing his momentum forward towards the men on horseback. By the time they realized their impending demise, it was already too late. Looks of horror came over their faces as they raised their swords in vain to protect themselves. In mere moments, blades became puddles, and a pair of bodies on horseback rendered headless. Lifting back out of the darkness, Mason prepared to make another strike, only to be startled by a mighty roar.
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