Tarabel stood at the edge of Heaven and gazed down at the Mor, where Belragh herself had crossed. The corruption created a blight with a stench that corrupted even the air in Heavan.
Armored and armed in the gifts of the Mother the Father and the Spirit, Tarabel dove from Heaven’s edge. Visible only as a plummeting orb of light he lit the sky of both the Mortal and the Mor. Belragh herself was blinded.
Tarabel plunged the Sword of the Father into Belragh’s chest – the force of Tarabel’s decent carried both Belragh and he through the earth beneath them. They crashed through the tunnels and pathways the Shades and Draegons had dug to pass into the Mor. The last wall crumbled and they burst out over the ringed pit that was Hell. Tarabel opened his massive wings halting his decent and let Belragh slide off his sword. Her body fell into the endless blackness of the cold Hell beneath them that even all his light couldn’t penetrate. A heat hit Tarabel first, then all at the once, Hell lit up becoming an inferno, baked in pale red-orange light.
“Tarabel!” Disinner’s voice wrung heavily. “Be gone!”
Tarabel watched behemoths detach themselves from the Walls of the fifty-two rings. The Draegon spread their massive wings catching the updraft from the intense heat. Tarabel folded his wings and dove. The Shield of the Mother held off searing breath and metallic claws. His sword sliced their metal hides as easily as it would cut through water. The ancient Draegon fell.
Turning toward the angry center of Hell, Tarabel felt the Spirit touch him, filling him with even more strength. Tarabel’s armor began to show with an intensity that rivaled Hell’s core. Tarabel descended once again crashing like a comet into Castle Alrule bringing down walls and crumbling Ancient stones.
Tarabel arose face to face with Disinner. Now two feet taller than Tarabel, the ancient Fallen Arae did not look nervous or intimidated. He was cloaked in a robe that looked more like shadow than fabric; fires burned now were his eyes had once been. His Ravens wings gone – replaced with the leathery wings of a Draegon – They were blackened and ashen grey.
“Tarabel, you were sent here to die.”
Tarabel knew this. He swung his sword at Disinner’s throat. Disinner ducked beneath it, slipping in close to Tarabel. He pulled Tarabel’s head backwards and plunged a hand into his mouth – deep into his throat.
“Tarabel,” Disinner whispered into his once brother’s ear. “You are mine.”