Chronicle Blade Heavenly Relics

In the beginning there was void, the Lord High-father breathed an everlasting breath of life into this void and created life. His will was absolute and the living heaven was created. The High-father’s will formed a planet, one which is nameless yet goes by numerous titles. Produced to serve his holy purposes were the Angels of the Will of The High-father and through them the first to dwell within this earthly paradise, the Zealot, here created in his image. High atop the promised land of floating continents they lived without sin, without fear, without death - their only ordinance was to never leave their human heaven for the strife of the icy planet surface. However after countless generations, the Zealot fell from grace - coldly turning their back to the light and embracing Mammon, false gods created by them through sin. Advanced beyond imagination, they stormed down blocking out the sun to make war with the dwellers of the surface for it came to past that some of the Angles had fallen to jealousy and hate of High-father’s children . . . the Zealot. Under false pretenses they manipulated the Zealot into coveting Mammon and traveling to the surface while the Head Angel molded another race in his image, sending them to the surface as the Dragonese.

He banished all the fallen angels including the leader to the pits of eternal torment and fire, and for the first time Evil was created, Demons. Heavily saddened by the events the High-father abandoned the overwhelming sin of his children and servants, he created the Humans, the Dwarves, and the Elven -Angels that fought hard during the war and given their own culture. Made so that when the Zealot and the Dragonese destroyed each other through war, they would take dominion over the world. With the warfare between Zeal and the Dragons at its climax, the Demon’s - under the new banner of The Legion after becoming horribly disfigured and mutated from the pits of brimstone - evil, treachery, and deceit knew no bounds. Whispering lies and wickedness, they tricked the Dragons into freeing them, The Elven into creating Anti-Soul and Anti-Spirit magic, and the Zealot into creating creatures for the sole purpose of exterminating the High-fathers new people, bred only for killing they are The Clan - Goblins, Orcs, Imps, Ogres, and Trolls all under one faction for slaughter mankind.

Eventually with both factions decimated to near extinction, the century’s old war between Zeal and Dragon ended . . . none of the other side’s forces were still left alive. However with the Legion still running ramped, the Humans, Dwarves, Elven, Alubath - mermen creatures evolved naturally from the oceans depths, and The Will of The High-father all banded together and once again banished the brimstone soldiers into the pits of hell at the cost of almost the planet itself, not before the demons unleashed their final mark on the world, the Anti-Soul and Anti-Spirit magic of the Elven -the magic that was the horde of the Undead . . .

-Inception Book

Book of the Living Heaven

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Humans

Post-Enlightenment

A dying forest flooding by a frigid torrential downpour in the dead of winter, 6 years ago

“Is he still alive?”

“Yes just unconscious, she’ll be fine once we return. His parents were turned however . . . together their bodies show they had started devouring each other. They weren’t taken under control, it seems as if there is truly no Whisper here . . . ” said an older voice.

“Maybe so but we must hold true to our faith. We now have another orphan because of the walking dead. We should hurry before the flood causes even more of a danger toward us, my sister”

“Aye, return with this boy . . . we will cleanse the grounds at the center of this forest. There will be living dead on your way, hold true to your aim and your faith.” the older voice answered.

“And you Elder Sister, High-father be with you” the two voices are given form as the lightning crack flashes in pitch black bitter winter night. There are two people, one taller and seemingly older. Both are cloaked in the same uniforms; a long, flowing, all black shroud that covers all of their bodies as it flaps violently in the storms’ wind, the collar is a scarf that covers the entire face under the eyes. The three details that clearly distinguish the how ever is the nun hood they fight to keep atop their heads that’s black while all white on the inside, their long crystal and obsidian design cross necklace, and the mussel of a long, massive firearm rifle that protruded brilliantly out of their cloaks - they were Clerics.

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Present Day

In this living planet on the large collection of northwestern wasteland islands off the coast of the Ix continent, the mysterious Archipelago of Ix, rests an elderly, towering, gothic Basilica of unknown origin. The islands themselves are said to be cursed because of there desert condition despite being surrounded by ocean, some say the land is cursed because of the demon graveyard said to be buried under one of the islands.. This is a cathedral unlike any other, occupied and ran by the leading High Priest and nuns, every member is there is blind and practice marksmanship to combat the undead and evil with the use of multiple firearms. While the priest is generally unknown, all of the sisters; the White Mages who practice holy and healing magic, and the Clerics who combat and banish evil with the use of firearms are all female with ages that strictly range from sixteen to forty-two and exhibit goddess-like beauty, a blessing from God. When not battling hell itself the House maintains itself by excavating lost futuristic technology, relics, thought to be made by the demons themselves and put the to heavenly use. The Worship House Upon arrival the nuns are blinded as sacrifice for their psionic powers, abilities, and senses given by God. They carry a sharp design tattoo, sigils, across their chest just above the breasts and on the lower back just below the waistline and also make themselves completely hairless, and in the process - bald, signifying their unending belief in the High-father. One of these nuns however is neither bald nor blind and her mysterious ability to use the lost relics as well her almost unnatural eyes showcase something much more than human...Elder Sister Brinitium Gaspar.

“...and six years ago I brought you here, I was sixteen at the time and you were twelve, it was my greatest accomplishment” she spoke to the young man upon ending the story, she wares a common thick nightgown upon revealing she was the younger nun from the flashback and processed a more mature tone of voice from the her younger self. She is beautiful and gave show to her bright long emerald hair though the thick gown still hid much trace of her figure. Her skin was a darkened tan with a near orange hue which matched the almost inhuman, bright topaz template of her pupils.

“What happened to the Elder with you, Sister Brin?” the young man asked. Together the two sat alone in his bed chamber as she stayed silence for a moment.

“...Elder Cresecens continued her mission after sending me back...s-she died in the process. She died as a mortar for the High-father, our religion forbids us from honoring her or speaking of the dead for we all know she guards us from evil” she holds her two long cross necklaces “The High Clergy allows me to ware her rosary in remembrance of my mentor and her title was held empty until I came of age”

“W-why cant I leave this place...” he seems to mock a caged animal

“We’ve already gone over this! Our location, our relics, our goal, all the fundamentals of this great Basilica...you know of these things Lan!”

He roars to his feet “Do I! There are too many secrets to this place for it to be ‘holy’ do you know how it feels to have mostly all of the sectors, wings, rooms of this monastery blocked off by bald headed blind sisters because I’m not a nun! I’m caged in here, the rest of my life!-”

A slap to the face silences him “...I know how it feels...I myself am not from this place, Sister Cresecens saved me one faithful day as I, you.”

“Y-Your nothing like me, the

only

thing same is we are not blind!”

“Have respect for the workers of God!” Brin sighed “He have been friends since we met, I am one of the few who understands you” she stands “I realize that you are still a teenager with untold emotion and nothing to set it to, I will give you this night to less and not pass judgment.” Brin turns to the door a starts to leave the room though Lan stops her.

“You always thought you were better than me! I am not a child!” Lan starts to slightly growl as he grabs a bronze candle and attacks Brin with a full force swing into the back of her head, he knocks her to the ground hardly conscious. “F-Fuck you! You holy bitch!” Lan is more frightened than raged, his dilating eyes sake with madness. Lan slammed the chamber summoning an echo that storms through the dark halls of the old Cathedral.

Brin is dazed but not bleeding as she raises her and by grabbing her throat rips at the collar of her robe with his other hand unsuccessful. The Elder sister regains some feeling though her arms tingled, her legs weakened, and her neck burned, she grabs at his arm attempting to free herself but the blow had knocked reality from her. With the old holder still in hand to backs her in to a wall a backhands it into her face cutting a gash in her forehead and to the left of her left eye and letting the blood run. Brin still fights, slamming her foot into his kneecap which would have surly broken it if not in her weakened state. It is still heavily painful however yet Lan ignores in his frenzy. Lan tears at the collar once more a reveals her cotton support band underneath the tattered cloth. Too weak to cry out she is blinded by her crimson mask and begins to taste it as the blood reaches her mouth. Lans’ growling continues, he licks her blood from he cheek, his grip tightens nearly lifting her from the ground while removing the last of her torn gown and leave her with no more than her support band and underwear.

Elder Sister Brin has a gorgeous body, thin with longs legs, perfectly rounded ass, and flat, thin stomach. He dropped the candle holder, tugged as his trouser belt then tugged at his growing excitement when removing her band. Brin’s breasts aren’t large but defined enough to know they were spectacular small nipples within small aureoles. She nowhere near arousal by his acts and according to her, he would have to pay with his life.

Lan trailed his tongue from her cheek, across her mouth, down her chin and neck, then suckled her breasts. Biting one then the other, pulling them with his lips, or sucking and pulling them, circling them with his tongue or rubbing against the tip; always alternating with every deed. She now fought him with extra effort as she found herself moistening then finally managed to brake his grip. Using her lifetime of training she skillfully and swiftly ducked, grabbed the holder and swung it as hard as she could up between legs; Brin collapsed again in weakness as he howled in pain then his outcry stopped. As she squinted through the blood drowning her eyes and collected her torn gown he was nowhere in the room and the sounds of approaching footsteps down the hallway grew stronger.

To be continued...