Obsidian Wings

The church was an architectural wonder. It was built in the 15th century for a forgotten king of some distant land. It rose to three stories; the church itself, the sleeping quarters and the priest's rooms. The main sanctuary's ceiling was carefully carved to depict the glory of Jesus' resurrection into heaven. The pews were made of imported oak, stained with the blackest of paint to show the sins of the world. An altar lay in the front of the non-existent congregation. The chancel table was draped in a blanket woven with gold. A Bible sat alone upon the table, garnished in dust. Upon the left was a wall decorated with filthy stained-glass windows, on the right of the church laid the foyer. Many halls branched off of the main foyer. These halls led to the choir loft, the bookstore, the chapter house, the museum and even places that had long ago passed out of memory. The museum is the only other place of great interest on the first floor. Behind glass cases were many artifacts of ancient times; these included the bones of a long decayed martyr and the spear that stabbed the world's savior.

The second floor was even less exciting then the first. Here the ground changed from hard untouched tile to a manicured wood. The east wing held rooms for silent monks, each room cozy and personalized for the individual. Here was also the kitchen and a place of dining, along with other rooms holding things necessary for human life. On the west wing there were classrooms and offices for teaching and learning. Rooms were also on this wing for those of a more prestigious position than the mere monk.

The third floor lay mostly untouched. Here were rooms for the priest. His bedroom, his office, his private kitchen, living room and dining room were all cluttered into a small space. There is but one thing worth truly mentioning here. In the darkest, furthest room of one of the most unused corridors was a staircase. The staircase seemed well used for little dirt touched the bare cold stones. It went up and up, twirling in circles upon itself many times before reaching the top. At the top, the room opened into a tower. Bronze bells hung in various places from fraying ropes and rusting chains. The musical interments were the only things that seemed unkempt. The metal no longer gleamed with light but tarnished. The tower also opened onto a small platform with stone carved gargoyles evenly spaced around the steeple.

From this small platform the surrounding environment could be seen. A thick forest of dead trees surrounded the building on all four sides. There was only one way to and from the cathedral and that was a pebble path before the large oak church doors. Behind the house of worship a fairly large cemetery lay. Ivy clung onto the gravestones and obelisks, pulling them back to earth.

There was an aroma of pure, untainted water in the air. It had recently rained, causing the building's stone to be both soaked and rather cold to her feet. She hesitated there for a moment, her gaze scanning the horizon before she moved to a crouching position. Her back was hunched slightly, curling herself forward so that she could get a better look at the ground. The tempest again stirred, shifting her locks of ebony around her flawless visage. A cold front was coming quite soon and with it, more rain.

Silence echoed in the forest of silent figures. This was the lull before the storm. Two things were indicated by this hushed night. The first spoke of excitement and adventure, the second posed a chance for bloodshed and immense woe. A judgment would be made here tonight. She would be both the jury and the prosecutor if any fault was found. At this thought her features twisted into a soft chilling simper. Her dark mahogany orbs again refocused onto the ground, intently watching the path for any movement. It was not long before she spotted what she had been looking for. Two silhouettes quickly moved across the pebble path, their feet kicking up rocks as they ran.

The church was also known as 'the lover's rescue. Couples often eloped here to be wed or simply come to escape from the world that opposed them. The latter was most likely the cause for the duo's retreat to this forsaken castle. She tentatively leaned out further, sniffing the air. For a moment, she lavished in the perfume of the couple. The second did not last long for she quickly recoiled.

The scent upon the air was a bittersweet one, one of the vilest stenches she had smelt in a long while. The female was pure in both her heart and intentions. She had not a single flaw in her. The male, however, was quite complicated. Currently he wore cologne of genuine love; however, there was a seed of incertitude deep within him. She hesitantly leaned forward again to single out his scent against hers. Yes, there was little doubt within her. He would leave her in but a few months and she, she would be devastated.

The cathedral doors below her opened with a creaking noise. It was a sound that reverberated all around her. The two disappeared inside and soon the door slammed shut with a satisfying thud. There was a treachery in her fortress and she would not let it go without being dealt with. She turned with a quick movement, moving down the staircase in such a way that her feet hardly touched the stone.

Chapter II

Rie

Astarael

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