"The Gates of Oraius Falleth!" – Akalan

A millennium had passed, a thousand cycles of the core light had run its course, since Deis the supreme god of Oraius wearied by the endless echoes of creation, descended into his sacred slumber. His divine breath, once the very wind that stirs the dust of the cosmos, now lays still. A silent promise of his return.

Yet in this sacred silence, a shadow grew, one ever so malicious, born of ancient grudge and unholy ambition. From the deepest abyss where light reacheth not, rose the Legion of the Damned. Their eyes burneth with lust for conquest. Their target – The Gates of Oraius.

The very veil of the divine realm, now guarded by a dwindling host of archangels. Their numbers thinned by ages of peace, their resilience tested by the silence of their Lord. Amongst the celestial beings stood archangel Akalan. His armor etched with the weight of ages. By his side, Uriel the steadfast, and Xarus the valiant. Their wings glowing with light that quells the rising gloom.

"Hear ye brethren! The Legion of Hades is upon us, their numbers swell quickly. They seek only but to defile these hallowed halls, whilst our Lord doth sleep. Shall we yield and let their shadow blot out our eternal light?" Akalan's voice echoed across the plains of Oraius' great gates. A chorus of resounding "Nay!" met his word. A symphony of swords drawn and shields raised.

Uriel, ever swift to action, drew forth his blazing blade. "Let them come hither! Though their legions be as the sands of the shore, our faith holds steady, our courage be our edge! We stand for Oraius!"

From the opposing end, a monstrous roar shook the realm. Lord Gorath, a behemoth of shadow and horn beckons, his voice as unto thunder. "Winged fools! Your god slumbers and your strength doth wane. This realm, long denied us, shall soon be ours. Yield, lest my vengeance render ye scattered like the dust of the cosmos!"

His words were met with a defiant silence. A stillness more potent than any decibel. The first wave of the legion of the fallen, grotesque entities of claws and fangs, surged forth with great malice. A tide of darkness against the celestial glaze.

The clash that followed was fierce. Swords of pure light met blades forged in the lakes of hell itself. The shriek of dying demons and the wail of ethereal angels tore through the realm. Akalan, a vessel of divine fury, carved a path through the rank of demons. His sword a beacon of divine justice. Uriel darted through the frontlines, his strikes swift and precise. Xarus held the line with unyielding resolve. His shield deflecting blow after blow.

Yet for every damned vanquished, two more seems to rise from the depths. Their numbers endless, their malice exhausts not. The angels though valiant, began to wane. Their form once shimmering, now carry the marks of battle. Their armor dented, and wings let out embers of hell's flames.

"They press us hard, Akalan!" Uriel strains as he parries monstrous blows. "Their malice knows no end! Our ranks thin on. The gates are caving under their relentless assault", Xarus warns. Days bled into nights. Though time held little meaning in this conflict. The Gates of Oraius once impenetrable now bore cracks, its foundation now caving under immense pressure. The angels fought with desperation. Their movement become more ragged.

Akalan stood before the main portal, a lone sentinel against the growing darkness. He knew this was the final stand. His eyes, filled with sorrow older than time, glanced across his remaining brethens. So few, yet so brave. "Stand with me, descendants of Deis! Let our last breath be a testament to our loyalty. We shall not yield whilst a single spark of life remains!" His voice echoed.

Gorath sensing the imminent victory laughed. "Fools! Your faith is a dying ember, and your god sleeps, deaf to your pleas! The age of light is done! The age of shadow begins."

With a final earth shattering surge, the demonic legion pressed their combined might against the Gates of Oraius. The veil cracks. The realm shook violently of malevolence. The very foundations groaned in protest. Uriel, with a desperate cry plunged his blade into the foundation of the gates to reinforce it with his very own divine essence. Akalan and Xarus form a desperate shield wall in support.

But is was not enough.

With a deafening crack that reverberated across the cosmos, a fracture appeared in the center of the gates. It spread like lightning, branching outwards, undoing the celestial veil.

"Deis! Why doth ye in this very hour, sleep?! The Gates of Oraius Falleth!" Akalan cries of pure agony.

The gates collapsed, shattering into countless fragments of dust, dissolving into the void. The angels, shattered and broken, stood in horror and dismay. The lights of Oraius once so vibrant, now replaced by the rising gloom.

"VICTORY!" Gorath proclaims. His monstrous form cast great shadows across the realm of Oraius. His legion pour into the sacred realm, a torrent of darkness. The unholy laughter of the legion defiled the halls. Akalan, Uriel, and Xarus, with their few remaining batallion stood amidst the ruins, defeated. Deis, the god supreme sleeps on, his realm now overthrown by darkness. Only his awakening casts a glimmer of hope for this realm.

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Other pieces by Valorian
"It Is Written" – Valorian
Kai - The Last Sentinel