Birth of Chaos 3

Destruction

         The fires of hell surround him, the screams of the damned filling his ears. Smoke clogs the air, and from the darkness two gleaming eyes stare out at him...
         Slowly he regained consciousness, his vision blurry at first, but clearing up after a few moments.
         He was...somewhere else. The village was gone. Now he lay in the middle of a forest, sunlight filtering in through gaps in the branches of the surrounding trees. He sat up, blinking. How...had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered had been the terrible pain in his arm...
         His arm! He looked down at it, feeling it all over with his other hand. It...seemed fine. The pain was completely gone, and his arm looked none the worse for wear. But then...what had happened to him?
         He stood up, swaying a bit as he gradually got his balance, keeping his wings folded up. He looked about, seeing only trees and darkness all about him. He had no idea where he was, nor how he had gotten here. What had happened to the village? His eyes darkened a bit at the thought that some of those people might have escaped his wrath...
         Yet, he had this feeling, a satisfied feeling from the center of his body, that, though he had not dealt them the fatal blow, the remaining people in that village were most certainly dead. A smile touched his lips at that thought. It pleased him.
         He looked about again. He'd have to get to a more open area before he could take wing again. Picking what looked to be a likely direction, he headed off, picking his way through the thick undergrowth. He spent no time dawdling on taking in the sights. Such things meant nothing to him. All he wanted to do was get out and kill again. He wanted that sensation of overwhelming power filling him again. He longed to see the dead and the dying lying helpless at his feet as he prepared to finish them off. Only that would be good enough for him.
         Yet...he sensed that he was also looking for someone, someone who shared a certain bond with him. He had to find this person, that was one of the goals of his existence, he was certain. But there would be time for that after the killing had begun again.
         Reaching a suitable open clearing, he looked skyward and crouched down before leaping up, powerful wing beats carrying him up and up, high enough so that he could begin to glide again. He soared above the trees, seeking out beings upon which he could unleash his wrath.
         Tireless in his efforts, he searched and searched, until he came upon a village not unlike the one he had seen before, and smiling, tilted downwards into a dive, flying downwards, his heart already pounding as he thought of the mayhem he would cause.
         He delighted in seeing people flee at his approach, women taking their children and retreating back to their homes while men took up whatever might be serviceable as a weapon and brandishing it at the descending 'angel'.
         Landing on the outskirts of the small town, he summoned forth to his hand his burning blade, and eagerly awaited the carnage to come. Men charged at him, wielding their weapons, running towards their doom as he easily dodged their frail attempts to harm him and hewed them down, slicing through steel, wood, and flesh with ease.
         The village now rid of its puny defenders, the rest of the cowering inhabitants were now his for the taking. With a sweep of his arm, he sent wooden structures tumbling and fleeing people sprawling. His fiery blade cut through all, leaving a burning swath of destruction behind him as he advanced upon those few still left alive. He relished seeing the fear on their faces as their doom slowly approached them, a merciless killing machine.
         Yet before he could so much as slay one remaining child, the pain was upon him again. The burning, horrible agony consumed his left arm once more, this time spreading to his torso, constricting his chest as he was forced to his knees in front of his captives, eyes bulging as he tried to deal with the incredible torture that laced his upper body.
         He forced himself to look down at his arm, eyes seething with rage and agony. His...his tattoo...was glowing! The black-scaled coils of his serpent tattoo were now aflame with some ethereal light as it spread over his chest as well. Forcing himself to grab his left arm with the opposite hand, he fought with all his strength to stop this insanity, raising his face to the sky, mouth agape in a silent scream, features contorted into a mask of pain and agony as everything suddenly became white...

         Eyewitnesses were said to report that, on the day of April 29th, at approximately 2:45 p.m., a massive explosion consumed the village of Drisdrall. Onlookers said that the town and its surrounding countryside were engulfed in a fiery white light before a great roar sounded, the ground shaking in a huge shockwave. Many whispered rumors that the demonic being that had destroyed Carnallassa was behind it. None would approach the site, however, for fear that foul magic still hung in the air. The people simply prayed for a savior to deliver them from this oncoming evil. Their prayers were answered, in the most unusual way...