uracill Kalverya Johansson

Seraphina Beaumont walks two worlds, one hidden from the eyes of the humans, filled with danger and the other overt, filled with security. Her mission is to keep both worlds from knowing the other. As a squire of the order of PASA she never considered that she’d be a target for those of alien and supernatural descent. She knows that Angels, Demons, Harpies, Dragons and Zylarians are the least of her problems as a Nefaliem, but when the dark secret of forgotten her past has her searching for answers she’s forced into a battle she never expected.


Action Tout public. © Kalverya Johansson

#monsters #demons #angels
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Prologue

In the beginning of this tale, there were angels, demons and monsters with energetic magic. At first, these monsters kept to their respective worlds, never mingling with other races. Until one day, Lilith the queen of demons, created the first female born demon child with golden russet skin. This child was named Prador. Created specifically as a tool to be used in a war to destroy the Heavens at Lilith’s orders. However, five thousand years after the child was born, before any war, the King of the Angels called forth his superior commander Archangel Gabriel to return the Demon kings’ innocence in hope that he would make their separate worlds one. Gabriel left with a single goal in mind, to deliver the pages of the Codex to the Demon King, coded with a specific algorithm. Upon his journey, with his division of elite Holy Knights, Archangel Gabriel and his team were struck down by one demon in particular. Lilith’s first born child who was created over five thousand years ago.

This attack was orchestrated by Lilith without the permission of the King of the Demon’s—Agolas. For her insubordination, Lilith was stripped of her rank, tortured, humiliated and imprisoned. Though, this was considered an act of war towards the King of the Angels—Agarlos. As such, Prador was abducted and dragged to King Agarlos the King of the Angels. At his mercy and for her interference, she was infused with angelic blood ensuring that she could never return home staining her black hair silver and changing her crimson eyes blue.

Later, Prador was abandoned on a world filled with blood thirsty monsters. Until, she learnt to use her demonic and angelic blood to survive the harsh conditions. The woman battled countless monsters and among these monsters were fierce and terrifying dragons with elemental powers that she never knew existed. Prador with great difficulty slayed the dragons but one day her demon heritage became too strong and thereby became a mindless monster without any sense of feeling only the strong desire to live.

Her mind consumed by bloodlust, caused an increase in her primal cravings for flesh and blood. As such, she began to feast upon the carcasses of the slayed dragons. Little-by-little, she gained the powers of the dragons and over time their appearance. Blue scales covered her body from her neck to the soles of her feet leaving her face marked in claw marks textured like scales. Feeling a new power flow through her veins this demon-angel hybrid was the first of her kind a "dragon demon-angel hybrid" that caused the inhabitants of this planet as primitive as they were, to call her Nefaliem—a combination of the terms "Fallen" and "Nephilim".

As the species of this world, continued to grow and mature, the conditions of this planet changed to an ideal environment ensuring the survival of this new human-like species. The monsters that once roamed the Earth retreated into the shadows and the Nefaliem woman travelled this world in Paranella, a world that hid the monsters from these inhabitants and her from them. It was a world that sat between heaven and hell, it was a world only she could enter and exit at any time she pleased. This power caused fear among the angels and anger among the demons.

From either side, she was attacked over the course of the next several hundred years, Prador continued to survive, using her new and old powers. Until one day, injured from an attack by a superior demon who she'd barely slain. She laid at the base of a large tree in a forest that had spread across the lands. Eventually, she healed and rose to her feet. Unaware of another presence, watching her. She spotted well clothed man staring at her with undeniable fear and curiosity. Anger consumed the Nefaliem woman. Summoning a sword in hand, she struck the demon that she failed to kill and threatened to end the strange man that did not run at her presence. ‘What are you?’ he asked.

Prador hadn’t spoken to another person in over five hundred years. It was strange but somehow, she wanted to talk but no words formed. Instead, she turned her heel and walked away. He watched her leave with wonder. His golden hair shone beneath the bright sun as he followed after the woman. He was both curious and scared but continued anyway. Three hours later, she paused and said, ‘Why do you continue to follow me?’

The man said, ‘I asked you a question. I want the answer to that question.’

She stared him down. ‘What are you?’

‘I’m Zylarian and they call me Heric. What are you?’

The woman remained silent for a brief moment before declaring. ‘Nefaliem.’ With that encounter, a strong bond formed. His icy blue eyes were unlike anything she had ever seen and her hair was unlike anything he had ever seen. They both found beauty within each other regardless of their different appearances. Five years later, the Nefaliem woman walked the countryside and stopped before a stone house. Pushing open the wooden door she entered and inside a man sat with a day-old baby wrapped in blankets. Its scaly hand stretched out to the man and the woman smiled.

‘Welcome home.’ he said. She held out her arms and the man placed the baby in her arms and the Nefaliem woman placed a kiss on the child’s head.

‘I’m home.’

Years later in a land far from any town or village, the eldest child grew with her six other female siblings and the Nefaliem mother nurtured them all, equally. As such, the children grew to be strong and talented. However, their power must be hidden as there were people who would exploit or destroy them. It was something Prador had reminded her children as they sat in the forest on the edge of a cliff silently looking out at the forest below. Foot falls sounded from behind them, and seven girls glanced at the sound. ‘There you guys are,’ said Heric who graciously aged. The crow’s feet lining his eyes reminded the children of their father’s fate to age while their mother remained untouched by time.

‘Papa.’ they beamed, as he held up the fish, he’d caught for them. Prador smiled at the sight, it was often a comforting sight for her to see her descendants interact with the man she had learnt to love over the course of a few short years which to her was far too short. Every time, her eyes rested on her husband, she saw it, his fear to leave them. She wouldn’t voice this to her children as such, she remained silent when the youngest Talia would ask her questions concerning her father’s behaviour.

‘It’ll be alright.’ Prador said numerous times.

Out of the seven children, the eldest remained the strongest and as such Prador trained her the hardest. It was often reminded by her husband that it was improper to train a young lady, but Prador reminded her husband, of the dangers that would befall their children. It was power, that no ordinary Zylarian man could ever comprehend. The eldest daughter’s name was Zaharia, Prador had noticed Zaharia had a particular skill when it came to battle that none of her other siblings possessed. It was what Prador had called visual technique it was peculiar to Prador at first but when Zaharia had proven again and again her power to hunt she realised that this power could be used for battle.

One day, a group of soldiers entered their lands surrounded in lush green forests, rich clear rivers and clean lakes. These men Prador knew weren’t just soldiers as they looted homes, kidnapped children and abused women. To keep her children from such creatures Prador one day left their family home, in the pouring rain. Reminding her children and husband that she won’t be long. Talia ran up to her mother and asked, ‘Can you promise?’

Prador placed a hand on her head and said, ‘I promise.’

With one last look at Heric, she turned her heel and exited the house. As she wandered through the wet forest, she knew she’d be able to pick up the enemy’s scent and the strong scent of recent bloodshed. She summoned a silver cloak. Soon enough, her cloak had morphed into thick silver scaly wings. Turning her attention from the wings she walked to the clearing and her wings flapped. Soon, she hovered into the air.

As Prador soared the skies, she noticed patches of fire throughout the forest that had yet to be put out by the rain. The closer she flew the more she saw the village that was twelve clicks away from her home, burning in flames. She heard them, the soldiers’ footfalls and the screams of the victims. They were heading through the ravine. She thought, if they pass through there they'll be in danger.

Prador descended and landed in a clearing. She moved through the thick forest as silently as possible. Following the bloody scent of that particular group. There were twelve men she could hear each pair of foot falls. She heard the sheaths of their swords tapping against their primitive armour that she knew wouldn’t last against a real monster. The closer she got the more she was able to tell that these soldiers, were mercenaries. ‘Did you hear about the legends?’ one asked.

‘What legends?’ another voice questioned.

‘Apparently, there’s a beautiful woman in the mountains just further up this ravine with numerous daughters.’ Disgust twisted in Prador’s stomach, and her eyes narrowed as she saw torches light the darkness a few meters a head of her.

‘Do you know how many?’ a smaller man asked with dishevelled brown hair. Prador walked up behind the men and silently watched them as she listened to their conversation while they headed towards her home.

‘I’m sure enough for all of us.’

Laughter filled the path and one man glanced over his shoulder. ‘What’s the matter Hazar?’

‘I’m not sure.’ he said. ‘I thought I saw someone.’

All the men turned around to glance down the path that led to the village flowering in flames. Prador could still hear their cries, their screams as the flames that burnt them alive and the laughter of the mercenaries as they destroyed their home. ‘No one’s there.’ the leader said. He was a large man with a thick grizzly beard. ‘Let’s go before she can escape.’

Prador stalked the men through the trees. Silently, she watched each man and took note of the swords at their hilts. They weren’t getting to her home. She was going to ensure that. Prador, summoned a short dagger in hand and prepared to throw it at the leader but stopped. ‘Alright, you see those lights in the distance.’ Prador followed his finger and saw that he pointed to her home that sat on the mountainside. ‘That’s where she supposedly lives.’ He turned back to the group, ‘We’ll split up and surround the house. Keep your eyes peeled make sure those bitches don’t escape.’

‘Right!’

She allowed the men to turn their heel and continue on. When the last man that trailed after the group remained the furthest from the group, she knew her opportunity was now, before he caught up to the others. Silently, she landed on the ground and grabbed him. She jumped into the trees and sliced his throat. One down, she thought, another eleven to go. Summoning a chain, she wrapped it around the body of the enemy and strung up in the tree.

She knew further ahead the path would narrow and the trees would be a lot thicker. She glanced up the road and leaped from tree to tree. Most of them had disappeared inside the thicker part of the forest with tall grass and ponds. Prador leaped down behind the man who was hesitant to enter. Stealthily, she walked up behind him and pulled out her silver dagger. She threw it at the back of the man’s head and watched as he dropped to the ground. She returned to the air as she flew, she saw their torches were like beacons throughout the darkened forests. When one man stopped, Prador landed on a tree branch. ‘Juba hurry up,’ the man groaned.

Prador watched the stranger silently, her blue eyes glowed in the shadows as she smelt the blood in the air. She followed after the man as he moved back to the clearing filled with shrubs were the body of his comrade laid. Before the man could notice the body on the ground Prador leaped and she wrapped her legs around his throat then flipped him, sending him headfirst into the ground. It was a crushing blow as she climbed to her feet. She saw the man wasn’t moving and noticed blood pooling beneath his face.

Hearing her daughter’s voice Talia, she knew they were close as she asked, ‘Papa, what is that?’

Heric didn’t say anything other than. ‘Stay back Talia. Etna and Malica take your sister to her room. The rest of you come with me.’ After that, Prador tried not to focus on their voices. So, Heric saw it too, she thought, he knows they’re mercenaries. As Prador rushed through the forest, she took down one man after the other, not caring for their desperate plea to live. ‘Please, spare me.’ The leader said, the one she deliberately left last.

‘Now why should I?’ Prador asked.

‘Because I can pay you! I can make you rich.’ Prador’s eyes darkened as she stared down at the man. ‘Isn’t that what you’re . . . after?’

Prador smirked.

‘Only a man like you could assume a woman like me would be after money.’ Prador stepped closer. Ignoring his protests and summoned her sword. She raised her hand and the shrieks of the man’s pain bounced throughout the dark forest. Prador yanked her blade away, smeared in blood and guts. The man that Prador killed laid on the ground meters from her home, beneath the light of the moon that shone throughout the darkness, revealing Heric.

‘There you are,’ he said and paused. His eyes rested on her cloak smeared in Zylarian blood. Heric turned around and told his children behind him to head inside. Regardless of their protests, they saw their mother’s face, and knew his word was final. They turned their heel and headed inside deserting their summoned swords. He turned back to his wife, who stared at the forest behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and asked, ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No. I’m fine.’ His arms tightened around her and Prador glanced over her shoulder to eye her children’s father. ‘What ails you?’

‘Those men, they were coming for our daughters, weren’t they?’ His wife remained silent. He removed his arms and said, ‘Prador answer me.’

‘They were and more will come.’ she said. ‘You need to get them out of here.’

‘But where will we—?’

‘—To the caves higher in the mountains. Do you remember?’

‘I remember.’

Prador gripped her husband’s trembling hands. ‘Take them there and only come out when you see me.’ He nodded and Prador removed her hands from his and turned her back on him once more. Silently, he watched as she disappeared into the shadows. When she was gone, he turned his heel and took his children through the forest and into the maze of caves higher in the mountains.

Prador landed at the edge of the town centre. Pulling up her silver hood over her face, her cloak concealed her form from head to toe. The last thing she wanted was for the town’s people to realise who she was. They would run in fear of her if they knew—explaining why Heric was the only member of her family to enter the village.

Prador walked through the village and eyed the flickering flames and burned lifeless bodies. Prador stopped as she heard a woman’s scream cut the silence surrounding the village. Prador ran around a house and glanced around. She was near the source, but she couldn’t see the woman. Blood dripped on her cloak and Prador glanced up, the woman she heard was stung up in a tree with little clothes. She was battered and bruised with a large cut across her stomach. ‘Help me!’ the woman screamed as she was pulled higher and higher into the trees.

Menacing laughter caught Prador’s attention. ‘Look what we have here boys.’ A man on a horse said as he trotted towards her. Soon she was surrounded and Prador glared at the man high on his horse. ‘What are you a man or a woman?’ He reached for her hood and Prador stepped back out of his reach. ‘Grab him!’

Prador avoided the men and deflected their attacks. Soon enough, she turned her heel and sprinted down the dirt path. Passing the many stone houses. The men mounted their horses and chased after her. With her cloak revealing her physique, the men laughed. ‘We have a woman folks!’ They cheered and pushed their horses harder. Prador knew she’d have to get out of town if she wanted to end those monsters. She ran into the forest and vanished. The men stopped and scanned their surroundings. ‘We’re did she go?’

To the leader’s surprise, Prador swung down from a branch and kicked him off his horse. She landed on the horses back and summoned throwing knives in her hands. She tossed them at the men, piercing their throats, heads and unarmoured chests. Soon enough, she mounted the captain’s horse and headed back to the village aware there were more mercenaries nearby. She knew their camp had to be close by otherwise they wouldn’t have the numbers they did. After, she was done with the village, she’d wipe out the camp.

As she rode, she pulled up the horse. There in the middle of the flaming houses and the abandoned street was a man with white hair and black eyes. His tanned skinned glowed its usual shade under full moon. His dark eyes rested on her, and he smiled, ‘Hello sister dear.’

‘Lucanios.’ Prador greeted. ‘What brings you here?’

‘News. You know our mother is being torched by a purification spell at this very moment.’

‘She can’t die.’ Prador said and steered her horse around him. ‘Or have you forgotten she’s the queen of the Underworld and the mother of demons.’

‘I haven’t forgotten but that’s not the reason why I’m here.’

‘Then why are you here?’

Lucanios was silent for a moment and walked up to her horse and stroked its dark mane, his dark eyes locking into her blue ones. ‘There’s a rumour that on this planet there’s a prophet with the power to slay gods but apparently, he disappeared, and no one knows where he is. I was wondering if you would know.’

‘I don’t know and even if I did. I wouldn’t tell you.’ Prador seethed. ‘Last time I checked, when I needed help. You didn’t bother. You just watched and laughed when I suffered. So last time I checked, you’re on your own brother dear.’ Prador pulled her horse away and Lucanios jumped in front of her horse.

‘I know you hate me and your siblings for being punished, especially for something that wasn’t your fault. However, I do think you do know where the prophet is.’

‘If I’ve met a god slayer I would know.’ Prador’s horse brushed past her brother, and he stood there with a smile and said:

‘You know him better than you think. After all, isn’t he the father of your precious children?’ Prador froze. Her mouth gaped as she stared at the back of her brother’s head. He turned his attention to her and smiled. ‘What didn’t he tell you? That’s a shame . . . ah well. Now you know—I guess.’ Before Prador could say anything, he vanished and the last thing she heard from his linger voice was. ‘I wonder what will happen when you wipe out the prophet and its children?’

‘Lucanios!’

Prador abandoned the horse and her cloak morphed into long silver wings, she then flew towards the mountain where she knew Heric and her children would be.

The closer she got, the more fear bit at her. She was uncertain what would happen but all she knew was that she had to save her children. Once Prador arrived she landed on the stone ground and ran into the cave using her nose, she followed Heric’s scent mixed with blood. When she arrived, what she saw froze her in place. Heric was chained to a cross, bloodied and bruised. Sitting at the top of the crucifix was none other than her brother. ‘Glad you could make it, sister dear.’

‘Lucanios! Release him.’

Heric regarded his wife with shock and shame. His eyes drifted from her to the ground. ‘Prador.’ he whispered. ‘Please forgive me.’

‘Heric,’ she in turn whispered. The painful expression masking his face tore at her heart.

‘Aww, isn’t that sweet?’ Lucanios teased.

‘Lucanios. I’m warning you—release him.’ Summoning a sword in hand, her wings returned to her usual silver cloak and she glared at her brother. ‘Or . . . I’m going to end you.’

Lucanios eyed his sister’s hostility and anger. It baffled him how much she—a demon—cared for one of the prophets chosen by Agarlos. Then again, he thought, she’s no longer a purely bred demon but a hybrid. The hybrid and the prophet what an interesting mix.

Lucanios gripped Heric by his hair, tilting his face towards his. ‘I can’t believe you’re the man who fatally injured Agolas.’

‘So that bastard isn’t dead.’ Heric spat.

‘Hmm, no. Not yet but very close.’

Lucanios turned his attention to his tense sister. ‘Don’t make me repeat myself.’ Prador barked.

Lucanios remained silent, his eyes narrowing on her. ‘Is it a fight you want?’ He rose to his feet and stood on the top of the crucifix. ‘Then it’s a fight you’ll get.’ He vanished and Prador kept her eyes peeled.

She felt a presence beside her, before she could react, she felt Lucanios’s fist back hand her into the cave wall. The stone cracked under the impact and Prador grunted in pain. She pulled herself from the stone, rocks and debris fell to the ground as Lucanios walked towards her. Prador turned around and faced him. Blood dripped from her skull and Lucanios laughed. ‘And here I thought, you’d be stronger but looks like you’ve gotten weaker. I wonder if that’s because of the offspring you have.’ Prador could hear Heric’s cries of warning, but she ignored him.

‘Prador!’ Heric called.

Prador stood tall and bared her sword at her brother. He stopped before her and said, ‘I can make this as painless as possible—’

‘—What do you want?’ Prador asked.

Lucanios fell silent and tentatively regarded his sister. ‘I want Imperium.’ he said.

‘What?’

‘You heard me. I want that power of yours.’ His eyes bore into Prador’s, ‘If you refuse to give it to me. I’ll be sure to make this as painful as possible.’ Prador’s eyes narrowed on him. ‘So, what do you say?’

‘I say . . . go to hell.’

Enraged, Lucanios shoved Prador’s head against the stony cave wall. ‘So, I guess it’s going to be painful, eh?’ Prador with utter hatred glared at the man. Disgusted by her brother she cried out in pain as Lucanios’s hand heated. He squeezed and Heric yelled at Lucanios.

‘Let her go!’ Heric growled and within a moment. A throwing knife soared through the air and severed Lucanios’s hand from his wrist. Prador yanked her brother’s hand off her head while his attention rested on the person who he never expected.

‘Back away from my mother.’ Zaharia said and that was the beginning of the Nefaliem, the world of Paranella and the war between the angels, demons and monsters.

6 Octobre 2022 14:26:58 0 Rapport Incorporer Suivre l’histoire
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