Piercing Flame
Raguel nodded to Uriel and spoke softly, "It's time."
Uriel returned his nod and her expression became firm and unyielding. The Archetype of Piercing Flame descended through the atmosphere cloaked in the sunset's radiance. Above the cloudless skies of Ischuros, a glowing silhouette caught the awed attention of the city dwellers.
Anak struggled mightily in the arms of the mad goddess Shot-L'pav, to no avail. "Put me down! I have to go!" What he found especially frustrating was she took the time to drop Yothr in the slave quarter, but refused to release her titanic grasp on his waist.
"Go? Go where?" Shot-L'pav asked curiously, caring next to nothing about the urgency of his demeanor.
"I have to find my parents before it's too late!" Anak raged, furious but reluctant to attack the person who'd rescued him; especially considering how he'd done this to her in the first place.
"The stars wouldn't hurrrt them." Shot-L'pav giggled. "They still neEeddd you, after all." She winked with her hollow glowing eye socket at the desperate young man in her arms.
"The stars aren't the problem! It's the dead! The blood calling from the ground! The blood of the undead god and all the dead of Haskud with him!" Anak spoke what was revealed to him while in the throne room. He was forbidden from specifying, but he gave all the hints he could. Still, the king refused to listen. He wouldn't have listened even if the truth were told to him.
"My, my. Vengeance indeEed." Shot-L'pav cackled with glee at the thought of the coming chaos. Of the total number of dead buried in the Haskud Kingdom, more than half had been killed either by Gel-ad's hand or by his command. Any that happened to rise into undeath would certainly come for his head first. "Don't worry little one. I'll see you safely to your parents."
Shot-L'pav accelerated tremendously, vanishing into the distance far from Ischuros.
Crowds gathered with heads craned upwards, straining to keep their eyes on the miraculous sign from the heavens, or so the radiant female silhouette was being called. As the light of day grew dimmer, the red glow surrounding her dark frame grew ever wider, keeping the city brightly lit.
"It's a goddess!" One onlooker shouted, "A new goddess has descended to Ischuros!"
The rest of the crowd felt this to be true and fell prostrate in worship, shouting , "Hail, goddess!" over and over, save for a few reluctant or stubborn individuals.
In the slave quarters, beneath Yothr's house, every slave not bound to work at that hour was huddled around a dim light emanating from an enchanted stone. The rest of the usually well lit space was left in darkness. Anak had told them to expect this before he went to appeal before the throne, so they knew it was no goddess or auspicious sign from the heavens. This would be a disaster for Ischuros, one they all hoped for since the moment their oppression began.
Uriel looked upon the adulating masses with her hardened face of battle. "Fools, all of you. I will show you the impotence of your gods." The Archetype raised up her hand high above her head, palm facing upwards. The red light surrounding her began to flow like water into the upturned palm, forming an orb of brilliant crimson.
Sweeping her gaze across the city, Uriel marked with her eyes every location where a statue, temple, or shrine to the gods of Ischyros was raised. The locations locked in, and her weapon ready, Uriel whispered, "Fire."
From the rotating orb of light, thin beams of concentrated energy blasted outwards like a hailstorm, concentrating on the targets noted by Uriel before.
The people of Ischuros watched frozen as tall and proud statues of Osk, Lisma, Shora, and Horchal were pierced by blazing hot beams, their temples in the distance falling to ruin after experiencing the same fate. Houses that happened to catch glancing blows or walls that stood in the way of certain low lying shrines were also reduced to rubble.
The Archetype of Piercing Flame; This archetype was by far the deadliest any star could receive. It was not wild like the Raging Fire, nor volatile like the Incendiary Flame. The Piercing flame was a laser that burned hotter than any flame archetype, designed for turning tides against demon hordes in the battles on high. Had Uriel not brought her power down to its lowest degree, the entire planet would have been pierced by her flame.
Having done her duty and displayed the wrath of her Lord, Uriel vanished from the skies of Vinetum without a trace, the destruction left behind the only sign of her appearance. Cries of terror and fear erupted from the throats of the still prostrate crowd, as they begged for mercy from this unknown goddess with heads low to the ground. After a moment of silence and inaction, one individual marginally braver than the rest reluctantly raised his head to the now clear skies.
With a jubilant exclamation, he leapt to his feet. "She's gone! We're safe!"
The rest of the trembling masses also looked up with uncertainty, before they too rejoiced in their survival together.
Beneath Yothr's house, hearing the noise outside, the slaves understood the attack was over. Lighting the rest of the room up, they began to celebrate together. The first steps towards taking back their freedom were made today. They even sang various versions of Anak's refrain from his first Emuri, a verse that had only grown in popularity among the population.
A thin, wiry man with sunken eyes approached Yothr with a broad grin. "Yothr, you old dog. How was it with the hero? I hear you two are close."
"It was nerve-wracking." Yothr sighed in response before catching himself, "Forgive me, Elidam. I shouldn't spoil the mood."
"No, No. Tell me more." Elidam, also known as Amelserrudaku to a select few, responded brightly, eager to hear the story.
"Well, the king was as the king is, that much remains." Yothr began with a wry smile. "But even worse, there was all kinds of enchanting nonsense, that Urmu showed up, even the gods got involved. Madness and chaos, that's all it was." The old man sighed wearily.
"I'm somewhat familiar with madness and chaos." Elidam replied sympathetically.
"Ah yes. I heard about your son. I am sorry." Yothr placed a palm comfortingly on the man's bony shoulder. "Perhaps you could ask Anak to help investigate. He knows a lot of men in the city watch, I'm sure he could sniff out the culprit."
Elidam stiffened for the briefest second, before answering in a relaxed tone once more, "Yes. Perhaps I could."
...
Within the palace, Gel-ad looked out on the ruined statues and temples. "Is this it? Is this your devastation, Anak?" The king sneered with contempt as he observed what he considered to be miniscule damage in comparison to what it would do to his kingdom to end slavery.
"There is far worse to come than this, King of Ischuros." A female voice echoed from empty air, and the Oracle suddenly stepped in place at Gel-ad's side. "This was a prelude. A demonstration of the force that stands at the back of your enemy." The Oracle watched the king's face as she spoke, hoping for a good reaction.
"Hmph. Well that force wasted a perfectly good opportunity to kill me." Gel-ad sneered once more. His state of mind wouldn't allow him to view anything connected to Anak with anything but contempt.
The Oracle snickered briefly behind her palm, before clearing her throat. "Apologies. Yes, that is one way to look at it."
Gel-ad shot a look of frustration at this mysterious young girl. "Just what is it you want with me? With my kingdom?" Her behavior didn't make any sense to the king. She was a mystery in many ways.
"I just want to do my duty." The Oracle spoke cutely as she provided this vague answer, then with a smile, turned on her heel to depart.
"Wait a moment!" King Gel-ad called out to her back. "You say you speak for the gods. What have they to say about this!" He gestured to the destruction wreaked on the city. "This is a direct attack not just on Ischuros but on them. Do they have a response?"
Pausing in her steps to reply, The Oracle lightly chimed, "Lord Osk will not brook any attacks on his temple," before gliding away on swift yet gentle footsteps.
Gel-ad sighed in two kinds of relief. Firstly, he was glad to be out of the presence of that eerie
little girl. She was too off-putting. Also, it seemed the most powerful of their gods had not yet abandoned them, even after the recent disaster at the tower. "Lord Osk, hear my prayer." In one of his rare faithful moods, the king of Ischuros aimed a plea Osk's way. "Grant me the blood of my enemies, and the tears of their sympathizers. Grant me victory, and grant me vengeance."