[align=center]Adio smiled still his back arching slightly at Reita's touch as his fingers traced down Adio's chest before their lips met tongues intertwined..Adio's hips shifted lightly as Reita's hand worked against his 'lower' extremities a moan coming from his lips his free hand which had been on Reita's back moved to squeeze Reita's backside.



"Magical, you agree?"
"..he..he..Spectacular.''



He whispered his head swimming,so many thoughts oh Happiness was utter ecstasy to Adio.[/align]

[align=center]Adio closed his eyes shivering smiling softly the only true smile he had..Another soft purr like sound rumbled from between his lips.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."
"...mnh...Sorry,I had to take care of a few things before I went to bed unfortunately.''


Her breathed out softly his skin twitching at Reita's kisses as they trailed down his back.

"I love you, My Knight in Shining Armor."
"I love you too,As I always will forever more my Sweetest Reita-kun..''

He felt Reita lie down on top of him Adio let his wings move to fold tightly at either side as they vanished into a black angel wings tattoo something rather convenient..He let off a soft moan as Reita nibbeled on his ear,his whole body tingling,wanting more.


"Oh really now,DO show and tell.''


He said moving to where he was facing Reita now,Reita still on top of him,Adio having rolled over he moved his arms up lacing them around the back of Reita's neck pulling him closer to him.


He wanted Reita Badly.


He pressed his lips to Reita's closing his eyes running his tongue over Reita's,his hand trailing down Reita's back.[/align]

[align=center]Ｔｈｅ．Ｌａｎｄｓ．Ｏｆ．Ｂｌｏｏｄ．Ａｎｄ．Ｃｉｎｄｅｒｓ
ˑˑˑˑᴬᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵏᶤᵉˢ ˢʰᵃˡˡ ᵗᵘʳᶰ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏˑˑˑˑ


Scarlet pestilence and war--
has now refunded to the cold winds
The breath of all its peoples;
delivering now such ravenous gifts--
The decay in night's abysmal vault,
prepares all for departure.
From afar,
seest thou not the towering of wings,
like thunder on the sunset?
Eternally widening... those vans involve
and stifle half the light on the further stars;
Or worlds unknown of the outer infinite,
now intends the darkness of its course;
On planets haply poised,
making permanent the sable sun's eclipse...."

[/align]

Ｔｈｅ Ｐｒｏｌｏｇｕｅ


 Several moons have passed since their arrival here and yet it still went unnoticed by the inhabitants of the Old World. Changes and developments within Ayenee over the last few centuries had been quite severe. (Domini Noctis) The Shadow Warriors of Rydin had conquered most part of the southern lands and Amasia was in coccineus hands, much to the disapproval of the original sovereigns of these once powerful metropolis states.

Members of the Darkfire aristocracy were trying to gather support among the other Ayenian states in order to initiate an uprising against their northern Rhydin rulers and the Eastern Tenarian Empires. Cimmerii-Equinius, Western Imperials (Eden), under unified banners are preparing their campaign move against the rebelling Empires.


It was time to strike indeed.

[/size]


Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴇᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴛʜɪs﹐ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢs. Aɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ғᴀʟʟᴇɴ.


There are countless worlds, empires, kingdoms and lands that exhibit the blemishes of war. Numerous legends about the chaos caused by the tyranny of warmonger and monarch; and though this may beleaguer innumerable nations, the price is unavoidably the same, no matter whose head holds the burden of a crown. Yet, stirring in the helix stillness of shadow and harangue; and as if brought down from the very heavens like hungry ravens across battlefields, she was not a stranger to such things. Abysmal maws gaping wide, an unforeseen cavity that sprawled before the feet of marching warriors emerging from behind the ebbing mass.

Within the abysmally twisted pathways of the depths of her mind, memories of old came flooding back in silhouette reflecting the tumult of snapping banners in the tempests. At the forefront, Atra’Lamia, The Western Imperatrix of Eden, sat regally poised upon juggernaut, clad in vestments of battle. An unadorned archaic glory to behold, patent no doubt under stellar fortifications and weapons that ripped worlds to cosmic ash—still, a presence to be admired. The black demonic crafted warhorses' front leg ploughed impatiently at the earth beneath, parched and stained with the hues of rust… snorting at the air creating miasmic fogs like wandering spectres.

Chin ascended to the air, permitting the talons of wind to rake back the thigh length cascades of iridescent ebony exposing the achromatic contours of picturesque face, as if the stars themselves had chiselled her beauty from the sacrificed radiance of ancient suns. Leathers of attire constricting, moaning like a lover in conquest at the turn of svelte thigh and slender waist; knees digging in deeper against the carved pelt of her mounts saddle while feeling the warmth of the beast’s inner fire permeating through the thick covering of armour and adornment. Gloved hands tightening around the studded leather of reigns, pulling them back only to compel the mounts head to rise as a copious tendril of anxious exhalation burst into the oncoming coolness of the descending gloaming.

Lashing wreathes of onyx danced in whip-song round the frame of her pale visage, thriving over her diminutive shoulders like gorgon-vipers striking out to assail the elements in rebelliousness-- flaying over those feminine curves like thousands of tongue to caress the pelage of tourniquet. From behind then, a menacing pungent smoke billowing from censors swung by chains from the ‘Tainted Ones’ cloaked heavily in the tattered garbs of their ‘Dark Order’. Resolute chanting of dark conjuration, battle exsufflation, shadow-hound howls intermingling with ominous war drums accompanied by the clamour of Chaos armour, hoof, and the thunderous quaking reverberations of heavy artillery.

Nocturne-storms seeking the horizons of landscapes that rose from the light only to asphyxiate it to the blackness, like pestilence swallowing the sun. A staggering formidable line formed within the scintillation of smoke and miasma. Their banners displaying the burnished image of a Black Phoenix against blood red flames, snapped and crackled in the harsh arctic plague-winds which howled, gnashing around the blackened swarm of conjured fiends. Horrors not even the sickest of imaginations could ever create in frenzied bloody hand-painted portraits scribbled upon stone asylum walls.

Haunted figures crafted by the vilest and most twisted of minds ever to have stained the lands with their vicious insanities. Not even hell itself had creatures to the likes of these, hankering for the thick, crimson ichors of all that fell within their path or that was crushed beneath synchronized infantry bootfall.  Towering above the hording legions, ascending behind her, war-goliaths snuffed the lands with behemothic shadows; casting all within the eclipse of their bulk and majesty. Machines designed for siege and destruction. Trebuchet and assault ballista alike, lustrous in the skeletal design of contorted bone. Crafted by diabolical sorceries and umbrossis (shadow bone) “Osteomancy” bone-crafting fused with sciomancy (a form of crystallized psychic energy aka psycho-plastic/bio-construct).

Frontline formed that stretched the entirety of the horizon. Blades of hate gleaming with macabre silver smiles in the puce liminal hour- where even the skies ruptured to the slaughter, reflecting every single droplet of blood as it trickled along razor-edged teeth. Maddened from the mayhem laced in broken bodies and streams of inflamed vermillion, only one of a sadistic, perverse mind could marvel in such scenes of destruction and death. And only one of like-mind to her could ever comprehend the magnitude of intention behind the massacre.

The quietening before war was always the most disturbing sound of stillness, how it eventually decreased into nothing but that intimidating ‘dead’ readiness. Calm before the storm. From beast, hound to man all glared across the field below positioned in their regiment formations with their commanders lording over them from their mounts in regalia of their dark ilk and unholy devotions… ornate with blood-encrusted heirlooms of the lines of Edenic and Western Ayenee nobility. All armour bearing the numerous pitted scars of countless battles, festooned with the grim trophies of victory taken from the defeated.

Ekuxus Andel and Mephi'sax Arcius Cinderbane, the brothers of Chaos, clad in armours of insipid gold and blackened-hewed iron. The axe-yielding collector’s of skulls. The Lords of Cinders and Darkness. Appellations truly deserving  of Ayenee’s Chaos Lords, and Imperial son’s to the ‘Throne of Ash’ took their positions to either side of Atra’Lamia. Their father’s once great allies in the long forgotten civil wars between blood and  bond.  Helms depicting the beastly facades of the Chimera (the Griffin-head with Baphomet-style horns), burning eyes of crimson scourging the stage with heinous contempt.

To their flanks came the sightless masters of the Cinderhounds, draped in sable-cerements completely concealed and hidden beneath the obscurity of hood. Gauntlet fists grasping the metallic collars (ensorcelled torque highly resistant to magic or psychic influences) of their umbral monstrous canines. Sinuous obsidian oily pelts phosphorescent with a sickly verdant aura comparable to balefire. Maws dripping with saliva as they peeled back to reveal the glistening of manifold fangs eager for the carnage. Lambent orbs perforating the calignosity with an anemic-chlorosis iridescence.

It was the cold breath of death that plumed its awakening across the lands; the Gates of the Fallen releasing in shrill clanks as the chains of the underworld broke from their irons. Who dared roused the Chrysostomosian chieftains from their beloved golden drinking halls? Mysterious winds shifted, sweeping up the arcane chants of the battle mages swinging censers of pungent resins- causing thick grey discolouration within the gathering fogs, congealing mists and smoke to an almost impenetrable barrier.

Disorientation and confusion settling amongst the warriors trapped within the lowlands… high death magick and necromancy wove their supremacy and virulent sway within the cinereal vapours. Venomous shades coiling to seek their intended targets of prolific and influential commanders as more banners broke the colours of Ayenee and Rhydin… emblems and crests that even Atra’Lamia recognized in all the years of battle and siege within these lands. Instantly right gloved hand rose to a fist and the signal was given as the gyrating skies darkened with arrows smothering the last remnants of light that had managed to struggle through the onyx- gloom.

“There is no glory, only an eternity of slaughter and the mirth of thirsting conquerors. Cast down the heroes of Ayenee! Destroy the icons of hope! Slay the dogs! Slay the infidel! Show these fools that they follow nothing more than forgotten days. Show no mercy, only wrath!” War-cry, weapon against shield arose in deafening roar breaking the silence, and the wave finally broke against the shore. Where Lord, beast and hound lay siege to the multitudes. There was something wondrous and  magnificent about melee, impressively fascinating beneath the clash of shield against shield, and weapon against weapon, the mighty din of feet trampling terrain as bodies fall to failure of their measures.

Into the hellish roar her steed plundered, hooves assaulting the earth in heavy thuds, raping the soil of all its nutrients as it extracted all life-force and energy at its gait. Black hocks pounding only to rise and leap over the falling barricades which surrounded the outside of the village, burning to silvery ash then whisked away by the teeth of grinning winds. Right hand unsheathing the decorated, elaborate sword from her side, artistically sweeping it from side to side as Atra’Lamia carved her path through the multitudes of faltering men that dared and tempered to topple the Titaness herself.

The combined Western Ayenee and Eden army was approximately 500,000 under arms, 33 legions (182,000 legionaries) and more than 400 auxiliary units (around 250,000 auxiliaries of which around 75,000 serve as cavalry).

[/size]

He frowned. "Well, that's too bad." He moved his hands across Adio's wings. Reita's own wings were folded tightly against his back. His eyes closed halfway and he started to rub Adio's lower back. "Well, obviously, you came and saved me. Otherwise, I'd be getting a tentacle to the face right about now. I know that they wouldn't be so gracious as to allow me to be in the same cell as you unless they were killing you. What happened last night?"

Reita's hands moved almost like he was a professional. He kneaded away the tension that he could feel in Adio's back. Occasionally, he'd pause and blush. Reita's eyes opened suddenly and he looked around, stopping the massage. "There's...magic here." He then went back to rubbing Adio's back. "What time did you get to bed?"

He stared up at Adio. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that we were here. In..umm..this place." It seemed that Reita had no memory of what had happened after he changed forms. Reita turned to his side to face Adio. He laughed.

"Do you want a backrub?" He rose an eyebrow, then grinned. "I'll give you one. Do you want the happy ending, too?" He laughed, then motioned for Adio lie down and turn over so that he was on his stomach. Meanwhile, Reita began to crack his knuckles. He also searched for oil, which didn't exist in this space.