The Warring States of NPF - Nephilim Chapter One

Theta. That was what they called him. It was not a proper name for he was not a proper man. Normal humans didn't have skin so pale, teeth so sharp, or eyes so blue. It was the blue of his eyes that stood out the most. They were so clear, so pure, so bright. His hair was short, straight, and colored a dark brown that seemed almost black. He was not strong, though he wasn't frail either. Instead he occupied some strange middle ground that wasn't too noticible, but allowed him to be quite intimidating when the situation called for it. Theta was also beautiful, his smooth face and sharp features complimenting eachother perfectly.

Theta dressed to impress, though he didn't really seem the type to care what others thought of him. Silky, ebony gloves kept him from dirtying his hands on the world around him, and a dark gray jacket over a white shirt and a crimson tie, to give him the look of nobility. His black, leather shoes, picked to match his smooth pants of the same hue, shined marvellously in the moonlight that shone through the clouds. A passerby would assume him a count, or at least someone from the court of one, rather than the traveling merchant Theta was.

However, of all the wonderous things that Theta wore, the most remarkable was his smile. It was the sly smile of a trickster with something up his sleeve. It was the meditative smile of a wise man. It was the joyful smile of an old friend. Which one of these you saw all depended on how well you knew Theta, and even then, which one he wanted you to see.

For a rare moment, Theta was frowning. His mouth turned downwards as he watched the rain run between the gray stones of the street. His mood darkened as he looked up at the clouds which were so rude as to get him wet. He seemed so taken in by his frustration at the elements, one would think he had not noticed the empty, tattered robes that floated behind him silently.

"I always hate when it rains before a mission," Theta told the gray wraith behind him.

"Do you consider the weather an omen?" the thing asked in an ice cold voice as black smoke emanated from its cowl.

"No, I don't like going into a mission soaking wet. I like to maintain a certain image, and going into battle soggy kind of ruins it."

"You know why I am here?"

"Well, if the undead are contacting me, either I'm dead, or you want to send me on a mission. So, unless I died a few minutes ago without noticing, you have a job for me." Theta's frown turned to a mocking grin.

"We sense an object of great power within the castle. We need the castle empty by tomorrow morning so that we might obtain this item."

"What about people who aren't in the castle?"

"We'd prefer it if you could avoid killing the townspeople."

"And what's my prize?"

At this, a blood-red gem manifested in the space between them, floating and glowing faintly. Theta, without even turning around, snatched it from the air. "Why can't you guys go in? Sending me in seems like a waste. It's overkill."

"Someone has put up an extremely powerful spiritual barrier. We could destroy it, but it would take time, during which we would be vulnerable."

"So, send me in to purge the place, and even if that doesn't get rid of the barrier, you'll be able to take it down without putting yourselves at risk?"

"Correct."

"Sounds like fun. See you in the morning."

The wraith faded and Theta laughed as he looked at the gem in his hand. They must have been quite desperate to be willing to give him one of these. This might actually be fun for once.

The courtyard of the castle was little more than a mud pit. Over a hundred dripping wet soldiers in steel, plate armor, with longswords at their sides and small, metal shields welded to the forearms. All of them bearing white crosses crudely painted on them, and all of them trained and ready to fight undead. Before them stood General Kent, a veteran of the Holy Wars and with the scars to prove it. Kent himself was in armor similar to theirs, except obviously of higher quality metal and make. A broadsword was strapped to his back and a large, golden cross was welded to his armor where his left arm would've been if he'd still had it. Unlike the others, he wasn't yet wearing his helmet.

Kent's face was rough and addorned short, brown beard with several gray hairs. His mouth was a permanent frown. A large scar wound its way from his left ear down to his throat, attesting to what a miracle it was he was still alive. He had shaved his head bald, which seemed to somehow match his large bulbous nose in a way that just seemed right, though no one knew why. He glared at each soldier through his green eyes. They were the eyes of a leader.

"We have recieved intelligence that the undead seek to take this castle from us, and each and every one of you is to defend it with your lives. Luckily for you spineless scum, their is a spiritual barrier. For those of you too dense to figure it out, this means that the only things you'll have to worry about fighting are the corporeal undead, meaning ghouls and the like. The archers should be more than able to handle any wraiths that try to bring the barrier down. Now are main point of defense is the outer wall. There's only one gate, so they'll have to funnel their forces in. This will give us an adv-"

"Knock-knock!" Said Theta, rudely interupting Kent's speach. Soldiers and general all turned to look at the strange gentleman standing outside the wooden gate. Theta waved in response to the stares. Kent squinted his eyes and walked up to the gate.

"I know you. Your that merchant who sold the porcelain doll to my daughter a couple years ago. You gave her quite a discount."

"Well, I was feeling particularly generous on that day, I guess. I wouldn't know. I don't really remember this happening. So, how is your daughter?"

"She died last winter. The plague took her." Rather than frowning, Theta seemed to smile wider at this.

"Well, that's a shame. Can I come in? It's raining out here."

"It's raining in here."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should come in and check, just to be safe."

"Listen, I appreciate what you did for my daughter, but it's late, and the undead are going to attack any minute. Whatever you need, it can wait till tomorrow. Go stay at an inn." Kent wasn't truly a mean person, he was actually quite agreeable. He just had to be that way with the soldiers, because that's how it's done.

"Oh, don't be silly. The undead aren't going to be attacking any time soon."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because we're attacking now." Before Kent's mind could process this statement, Theta put his hand on the gate and it exploded, sending wooden shrapnel into Kent and into the group of soldiers.

Kent flew backwards and smashed into the muddy ground, losing conciousness instantly, a particularly large splinter of wood piercing his armor through the gut. The soldiers raised the arms to protect themselves from the blast and escaped it relatively unharmed. Archers all along the walls readied their bows and the soldiers in the mud drew their swords as a laughing Theta stepped forward, wielding an onyx scimitar with glowing runes carved into the blade.

Just as the archers were about to fire, the knights charged forward to avenge their fallen general, and the archers were forced to hold back, for fear of friendly fire. As the first knight came within reach of Theta, the merchant slashed, his demonic sword cutting through the armor as if it weren't even there. Blood sprayed into the air and Theta's eyes widened with glee.

"You know-" He slashes to the right, "this really begs the question-" slashes to the left and thrusts, "how you knew-" then blocks and runs two men through, "we were coming." So many of the men had come after Theta at once, that many were forced to watch in horror as he blocked and dodged every attack that came his way and cut down their comrades.

Theta leapt into the air, doing a completely unnecessary backflip in the process, and finished his trick by slamming the blade through the helmet of one man, then proceding to use his position to kick one man in the head knocking him into a puddle. Dancing, he hacked and slashed, unharmed and unafraid, and reveling in the fun of it all.

"That's the problem with armor, you see. It's too heavy, and against something like me completely useless. All it does is slow you down while I waltz through you. You're all making this too easy."

It reached the point where the archers could not hold back any more, and let loose a volley of arrows into the knights. Theta dodged easily enough, leaping into the air, stabbing his sword in the wall, and hanging there as he watched in amusement the arrows running through a fair few of remaining men. Leaving the wall, it took only a short flurry of slashes, with breaks as he dodged more arrows, to bring down the remaining swordsmen.

Arms at his side, Theta dashed up the wall, each step fitting perfectly into the crevices between the stones that composed it, until he reached the top, and found himself face to face with an archer scared out of his mind.

"I will say you are all quite brave," complimented Theta as he shoved his blade through the young man's skull. "None of you have run. You should be very proud."

Theta hurriedly cut down the remaining archers, leaving the courtyard defenseless, only pausing a moment to notice the disappearance of the impaled general. He shrugged. Not his problem. All that was left was to march into the castle itself and cut down some nobility.

"Victory is mine!" Theta shouted, trying to frighten whoever was inside, as he walked down the steps leading to the ground level of the courtyard. Blood and mud covered him and everything else, and, although he didn't like to be so messy, he felt it gave off the battle-worn hero look, which wasn't too bad.

Theta was strong, fearless, and had never known defeat. These were his downfalls. Had Theta been a bit more humble, he would have sensed the aura that formed behind him. Instead, he could only go wide-eyed and gasp in pain as an ivory sword pierced through his heart.

Theta's blood poured freely from the wound, the blade pulling slowly from his heart, and he stumbled and began to fall down the stone steps, smashing violently into them throughout his descent. His world spinning erraticly around him, Theta caught a glimpse of something he had never seen before. Something with snow-white skin and grandiose, white wings spread wide. Something with blond hair and silver eyes, and wearing silken robes.

"Seraphim?" was all Theta could manage to say as he landed head-first in the mud. Her name was Lianfel. She was just a measly seraphim, the lowest rank of angel, but after she killed this demon, she would become an Arcurim. Arcurim were a special group of angels dedicated to the eradication of the undead. It was they who had kept the undead from winning the war so far, and soon Lianfel would join their ranks. She smiled as she walked slowly down the steps, preparing to slice off this abominations head. Even as she smiled, however, he began to push himself up, coughing up blood as he did so. She had underestimated him.

"That was rude," he told Lianfel. She began to hurry down the steps, intent on cutting off his head before he could recover from the wound. He rose to his feet, barely able to stand, a weak, vile smile on his wretched face. She pulled a silver dagger from her robes and launched it, catching the thing in his left eye. He staggered and cursed holding his wound with both hands as blood seeped through his fingers. He was hers. As she moved quickly, her bare feet splashing in the mud, he began to tear the dagger from his face. His stubbornness was starting to irritate her.

"Give up and die!" She commanded, loosing another dagger that slammed into his throat. Gurgling and letting out a shrill cry of pain, the demon tried to say something, but instead began to hack violently as he slid the second dagger out. Her robes stuck to her skin from the rain and mud and her hair hung messily. Her eyes were full of loathing for this murdering beast, and she was determined to erase him from her sight. Clenching her teeth tightly, she swung the sword, slasing open his gut and he fell over, twitching and bleeding, though his first wound had already healed. Kneeling by his head, she raised her sword, and prepared to bring it down, decapitating him in one fell swoop.

However, she paused a moment as he held out his closed hand to her and looked at her with a faint smile on his blood soaked face. As the hole in his neck closed up, and he looked at her with a friendly smile, he managed to force out the words, "I remember you..."

Opening his hand, a small, glass eye with a green iris, fell into the mud, and she gasped in surprise. "Theta?"

"Hi, Lia," he said, and pulled something else from his pocket, which began to glow bright crimson. Stunned, she didn't know how to react, when the red gem in his hand suddenly exploded, engulfing the entire courtyard in flames.

Theta, his clothes burned, but himself showing no wounds or any sign that he had been hurt at all, kneeled at the feet of the ghostly thing that had spoken with him the night before, visibly tired and worn out. In the daylight, the fact that the robes were empty and cobwebbed, and floated by means unknown was even more obvious and chilling, though this fact didn't faze Theta.

"You should not have had to use the Demon Blood gem. What happened?" It's voice seemed disappointed. That was a frightening thought.

"There was a Seraphim. A girl named Lianfel I knew when she was human. She snuck up on me and I came very close to dying," Theta replied without looking up at the shade.

"So, she is dead?"

"...Yes..."

Meanwhile, Lianfel awoke in the woods, tied to a tree, a letter lying next to her.