Stone Tears(Book one)-The Love of Isis.-

Chapter Two

Chapter II
…Embraced Destinies…

The next day Titan brought Osirius to a large hall within an upper story of the awesome cathedral.
Osirius strolled around the room with great curiosity. He saw many boards sitting upright with pieces of chalk below them; he looked to his side to see a couple anatomically correct skeletons of creatures he hadn’t seen before. He looked at one closely to see a long snout resting upon the face of it, the other had a human face. It took him little effort to figure out that it was the female of the breed.
“Ahem.” Titan cleared his throat abruptly, drawing his pupil’s attention. “This will be the place where we will hold your lessons.” He turned his head to the right, “Your bed is there, or if you prefer to do so, you may sleep on the floor. It matters not to me.”
Osirius looked to see a bed similar to the beds in the barracks, with the exception of a black blanket that lay upon it and a small pillow atop the bedding at the head of its surface.
He looked back upon Titan and noticed a wall of assorted weapons behind him. He spotted a battle axe, war hammer, broad sword, and an enormous blade with a height that surpassed Titan’s. He paid most of his attention towards the battle axe, it looked beautiful in his eyes, and it seemed to be drawn to him as well.
Titan looked back at the weapon his student stared upon with such lust and picked it up with his right, displaying it for Osirius. “Hmmm, fine choice. The battle axe is often seen as a slow weapon.” Titan swung it about swiftly in his right hand, flipping it about. “Though used properly, it is a deadly tool that can be used with graceful speed and precision. But I am not the one to teach you the methods of this weapon.” Titan set it back upon the rack and glanced back at Osirius, “You will have to ask Damien for that service, he’s your combat instructor.” Titan strolled over to the large board on his right, “I am to teach you the knowledge needed to be high officer in our ranks.”
Titan began with the basics on the anatomy of the enemy, using sketches to explain all weak points and strong points of their bodies. He showed him how they mature and what disadvantages they dealt with, and the advantages they had over a demon soldier. He explained that archangels are nimble creatures with unmatched intelligence and perseverance. And using drawings for examples, he displayed to him how they moved and used their own weapons.
The first month with Titan passed by swiftly, and Osirius soaked up all the knowledge brought before him like a sponge. On Damien’s request Titan taught the young demon the etiquette of a high ranking demon, and displayed to him how to walk well balanced, though the practice would be in vein because of Osirius’ fast body growth.
Osirius found sleep a great luxury, it left him feeling invigorated each morning. He did not prefer to sleep atop the bed he was given, he could not sleep flat upon his back. He slept with his back leaning against the side of the bed, he felt most comfortable that way, sleeping upright felt only natural to his body.
Though ignorant of the new world about him, Osirius asked few questions, feeling that any knowledge needed would be brought before him in due time. Though one question still puzzled him, why was he given such special treatment, how was he supposed to turn the tides of the large war in the favor of the kingdom he was born within? He had already been briefed that he was to be a great general of Hell’s military, he also had knowledge that he had been given special attributes that exceeded that of any other demon. An instinct surpassed all of his curiosity and emotion however, it was trapped within his subconscious for as long as he lived. His drive to serve his king that looked upon him as so much of a blessing. He was not ready to let the one who granted him life and sheltered him down. Osirius could not, nigh, did not wish to do that.
Damien had arrived at the main entrance of the cathedral, and as Osirius exited the large structure he looked him directly into his eyes, not so much as blink out of order. They met within five feet from each other and Osirius stood, ready and attentive, now wearing a crimson robe that showed to all others that he was a student of the army’s hierarchy.
Damien gave Osirius a small bow with a nod of his head. When Osirius returned with a deeper bow, Damien turned about and began to walk with a fast pace. The ready student understood and followed.
Osirius increased his pace to keep up with his instructor, and within a ten minute period they reached what seemed to be the middle of no where. All that could be seen was a few stalagmites and rivers of dust that flew about in the dark air. A rack of carefully organized weapons completely sharpened and polished stood behind Damien.
Damien approached the weapon rack and picked up the battle axe with his right hand. “I have been informed of your interest in the battle-axe.” He swung it around gracefully, observing the architecture of the double-sided cleaver.
“Yes sir.” Osirius had some enthusiasm in his voice.
“If you are to use it, you will use it properly.” Damien glanced behind himself to see a large boulder, and with one fast throw the weapon whistled and flipped through the air wildly, chopping deeply into the dark surface of the large rock. He looked back at Osirius with a sneer.
“What?” Osirius was confused by his teacher’s actions.
“You will have to punch me in the face before you can so much as wield it.” Damien’s smile grew sinister.
Osirius widened his eyes at his instructor, wondering if what he heard was right.
“Shed your robe and stretch, your first lesson begins now.” Damien grabbed his sheathed battle axe and dagger from his sides and tossed them into the ground below him. Damien began stretching out his arm and leg joints, letting out sighs as he did.
Osirius flung his robe off of himself, unsheathing his bare upper body and imitating Damien’s curious actions.
Damien took a straight stance, “Now, come at me.”
Osirius felt intimidated by Damien’s large build and stature, he hadn’t a clue how to fight and was sure Damien was someone he didn’t want to test the waters with. He let out a big sigh, and bent his knees.
Osirius shot off towards his adversary, moving his untrained legs as fast as he could. Damien’s body grew bigger by each second in his vision and he became even more unsure of the circumstances he was under.
Osirius jumped up only a moment away from Damien, trying to match his height, and he threw a right swing towards his teacher’s face.
Damien merely ducked under his punch.
Osirius was mid-air, and within the split second he had, he realized…he didn’t stand a chance.
Damien got up with unbelievable speed and slammed Osirius in the chest with the palm of his hand while his pupil was still in the air.
Osirius flew the opposing way, scraping the ground as he landed with a hard crash. He lifted his body up, and his vision was shaking from shellshock.
“That was an excellent first attempt, yet it would prove little effect in a real battle.” Damien face went serious. “You were panicking; panic is the first thing that will get killed, right next to rage.”
In that first day, Damien taught Osirius basic punching and kicking techniques. He had a theory that you must train your body and learn your basic techniques before even thinking about using a weapon.
Day and night, all they did was train Osirius’ body, Damien had him destroy boulders and stalagmites each evening with the techniques he taught his student. Osirius felt his power swelling within him each day.
The final day of the month came and Damien had Osirius sleep most of the day. Unsettled and rested he approached Damien who was sitting upon a cliff top, looking into the dark sky above himself.
“You haven’t even been informed of why we are training you, have you?” Damien was aware of his student’s presence.
“I am supposed to become a commander of a large army, to bring the advantage to this kingdom, right?” Osirius asked, unsure if his answer was completely correct. ?” Damien’s intimidating presence always made him unsure of everything he said and did.
Damien laughed to himself subtly, “Have you not wondered why our father has asked for Titan and I to train you personally?”
Osirius looked down at his feet thoughtfully, “It has crossed my mind.”
Damien turned towards his pupil with the utmost seriousness on his face. “I was born from my Father. He is of a powerful species with only one other like him, he is an Omni Reaver. Abraham, the king of Heaven is the other, and is also the original. My being born from him has allowed me to be naturally powerful, yet like both of them I am cursed without passage into the holy battlefield. Only when I am challenged can I come, and once the challenge has been dealt with, I must come back to our kingdom.”
Osirius glanced at him, caught up in what his teacher was explaining to him, ever attentive as he always was then asked, “How are any of us to win if none can reach either king then?”
“The army must break through the other’s lines and get to the further edge of the battlefield, where the gates of that kingdom are, and once broken through the gates, they must kill the other’s king in his kingdom. Right now, they are pushing our lines back, and we estimate about five years for them to reach us.” Damien explained to Osirius.
“How long must I be trained Lord Damien?”
“Three years, in that time your body will be developed enough for combat. And by that time, you will have mastered combat in all aspects.” Damien had an ominous tone.
“But, why me?” Osirius fisted his hands.
“You are a new species we have made; you have within you some of the blood of an Omni Reaver, divine blood.”
Osirius didn’t completely understand.
“You have enough divine blood within you to make you very powerful, yet low enough so you may be allowed safe passage into the battlefield. You see Osirius, we are losing this war, and we are depending on you to allow us to get the upper hand, we do not wish to perish at the misguided hands of Abraham and his troops.”
Osirius took in every word as if he would empty the rest of his memory just to store them within his mind. The pressure now set upon him seemed overwhelming, but in some odd way, exciting. The thought of the challenge seemed to give him nothing less then joy within him.

Within a large hall in the kingdom of Heaven, Matthias looked into the eyes of his king before him.
The holy king had fair skin and wore a white robe, with pearl hair that fell from his head and face down to his feet. His eyes emitted sapphire flames as was usual from his overflowing power that flew about within him. His face was aged and wrinkled as though he had suffered many things throughout his long life, yet his presence felt warm to all who were around him.
The room they were in was a bright white, gleaming with positive energy anywhere you seemed to be. Five thrones sat on the platform that Matthias kneeled before, and standing in front of both pair of thrones on the opposing sides of the large, gold rimmed one in the middle, were male archangels of obvious high ranks.
Large feathered head dresses were upon their heads, and elegant white robes rest upon their bodies.
The archangel on the far left hand side of Matthias was Sir Reign. He had long dark fur that grew out from the sides of his face like all the other archangels of the high council. He had a large scar that drug down from the lower part of his right eye that could not be completely shielded from view by his head dress. He could only be described as one of the more optimistic of the High Council of Crowns, a council of high ranking archangels whose orders can only be overlapped by God.
The archangel that stood beside Sir Reign was Sir Xion, much larger then the rest of the council and by far the youngest. His judgments and new strategic plans were responsible for Heavens’ upper hand in their war with the kingdom of Hell. He had also been the one to create the miniature crossbow for all male foot soldiers to utilize with quick speed and precision.
On the far right hand side of Matthias stood Sir Kane, whom designed the tactics and maintained the female soldiers in their army. He received little respect from the males because of his duties, yet the females all enjoyed his judgments and new strategies he presented to them. Sir Kane had the most charisma, and could easily rally the female troops and turn any of their fleets into courageous fighting machines.
Next to Sir Kane stood Sir Gabriel, the oldest and wisest of the high council. He had invented the tower shield and lance within his long life, cutting overall casualties of the archangel fleet in half. He wore a mask behind his head dress that covered all the left side of his face, and never came off whenever any other soul was about him. None but God knew of why this was. He received the most respect and at few times criticism for his old fashioned tactics, for some believed that his age of six hundred and fifty effected his better judgment on how modern tactics should be dealt out. None dared question his judgments before him though; none were stupid enough to do so.
“I grant you these medals for your upstanding courage and devotion to your duties on the battlefield.” The king of heaven set a rectangular velvet box into the extended hands of the humble Matthias, giving him a loving smile as he did. “You should be proud of yourself, Paladin Matthias.”
Matthias looked up into the eyes of his king, unable to hide the regret in his eyes.
He gave Matthias a comforting look. The holy king turned about and sat down upon his large throne, all the council did the same.
Matthias rose and straightened his sea blue robe that lay upon his whole body in two layers, and began to walk down the carpet to the exit of the bright room.
Male archangel guards with bright armour were all standing in a linear fashion on both opposing sides of the gold carpet. They all had their sapphire blades above the newly ranked Matthias.
Matthias stormed out of the large doors of the bright room and into the grassy inner grounds of the large castle that rest in the middle of all of Heaven. The clear blue sky helped not with the guilt of his departed high commander, yet kept him from going insane the same. A female archangel with a white dress robe that covered all her body approached Matthias from the front and began to walk parallel to him when they met.
“What’s wrong my dear, why are you so angry?” The archangel asked her lover with concern in her voice.
“Please, don’t worry about it Breeanna, I don’t wish to speak of it right now.” Matthias responded to his soon to be bride defensively.
“My love, you have just been placed in one of the higher ranks of our kingdom, this must be a happy event.” They both held each other close as they continued walking to their destination beyond the castle walls.
“I only earned that rank from the death of my master, it was but a reward for the fall of a great man.”
“His death was not your fault, why can’t you understand that?” Breeanna stopped her lover before a hilltop outside of the castle walls, hugging him with all her might and touching her own lips to his. She lifted herself up to one of Matthias’ pointed ears and gently whispered, “Time and life has spared you and allowed you to become a better man.”
Breeanna released her firm grip on Matthias and her right hand floated into his left as she led him forward.
Just beyond the hilltop an entire fleet of archangels whom were put under Matthias’ order stood at attention.
“You are destined to be a great leader, that is why the council chose to make you a Paladin.” Breeanna’s eyes beamed into Matthias’. “Let these experiences make you stronger, put forth your anger and aggression into defeating our enemies. You are to become something great someday, do not run from your destiny, let it be your guide and never let it go.”
Matthias faked a small smile toward his loving mate and looked down upon his soldiers.
They all stood at attention in their white, glossy robes and moved not one muscle.
Matthias moved a few feet forward, took a breath of fresh air, and drew out his large sword, pointing it directly into the sky.
All the archangels then let out long howls and cries to show their loyalty to their new leader.
It gave Matthias an eerily warm feeling in the pit of his throat. He thought to himself, ‘Perhaps all I am meant to do is fight until my end, but while my end still stands a fair distance from me, I will bring glory and victory to my kingdom. And as long as our cause is that of good, I will fight with all my love, body, and soul.’


"...There is no good, there is no evil, there is only life..."-Paladin-