The Quest for the Dawn
The glass had shattered, the blade was swung. The youth could hear the metal scrap against the stone, before blood could be spilled; however, his vision faded. A dream had overcome him, this he knew. He was definitely asleep. Ahead of him, a path laid in stones, it twisted and turned up a blackened peak, the land mired with pestilence and muck. The trees soon came into view as though the world was being given form before his eyes.
The youth rose the stairs, one by one. With each passing step, the weight of destiny was felt upon his back. It threatened to crush him, to make of him nothing. And yet, the youth persisted, driven by a desire to see what laid at the top. Eventually however, he did make it. After struggling for what felt akin to ages in those stairs, he found the very top of the peak.
There, laid an old shrine, one adorned with a rusted cross of Lorraine, when one kneeled to pray before it, a great star would shrine through the edges in the night sky. The youth prayed, at the time, he simply wished for the wicked to fade. The star in the sky began to shine bright, ever brighter and it grew in size. Soon enough, it streaked across the sky, it lowered itself before him.
Bright colors dazzled his vision, wings unfurled themselves, revealing the Aengul of the lord, Raguel. Besides him, two other heavenly warriors soon appeared. The youth instinctively raised his hand towards him, as if fleetingly attempting to grab at something. The Aengul’s wing fluttered and a light descended towards his hands. Soon enough, a blade had formed within his grasp. It shone bright like the colors which had preceded the messenger’s arrival. No words were spoken, for none had been required. The guardian of the skies soon faded, the blade’s very essence causing the mired, cursed lands around him to heal just in its presence. Was this.. Courage..? He pondered to himself.
Vision at last returned, he rose from his bed, staring at the clouded skies outside, suffering and death had plagued the lands around him much like that mired accursed land from his dream.
“This must end..” He muttered. He had taken on the path of Owyn, of Redemption. Verily, he thought to himself. There was no greater act of good than to slay the greatest and most foul of Evils. Gashadokuro.