The Roof

No Ralen lifted his face and released a breath, before turning to the demon and lifting his bow, he pulled the string back and aimed at the creature. As the string was pulled an arrow formed and flowed, liquid in it's elegance, yet diamond in it's hardness. No Ralen said not a word, he only looked with empty eyes and clear mind at his target.

The demon, so named by No Ralen did not move yet the shadow continued to whip violently around the archer's would be target. Nothing was said and nothing was done, the only noises the wind and the audible keening of the creature that No Ralen now held at the point of an arrow.

No Ralen continued to aim at the creature, his face impassive and silent. And yet.... He held the position, where another might fire and unleash death to the creature.

No Ralen Continued to aim at the creature, his face impassive and Silent and yet... He held the position, where another might unleash death to the monster.

He seemed to be waiting for something from the beast before him.

The man within the swirling shadow remained stoic, unmoving. After some seconds had passed the evil looking man spoke. "Do you doubt your first instinct? Is it not prudent to judge a book by its cover and so pass judgment on something that may be evil? If such evil be out of your league to deal with then the initial strike may be what is needed to achieve victory.", the man spoke with a harsh, gravelly voice but despite the harshness there was greatness and the man's voice could be heard easily.

No Ralen's silence was unbroken, but the arrow never left it's target. He might as well have been a statue, a part of the monastery for all the movement he showed.
In fact... He was indeed far too still. A moment later the double that had appeared to be No Ralen crumbled to dust, even as seven Iron chains attached to silver stars flashed from nothingess and wrapped around the creature, attempting to bind it to the place it stood.

If the creature, named a demon by No Ralen held an expression it was not seen. The iron chains came, unhindered by the swirling shadow that still enveloped and broken fragments fell to the ground even as contact appeared to be made with the man within the tempest. What permanence do links of iron have when faced with such strength? Would it have mattered if the chains had wrapped around the creature? An observer would be left wanting for those answers.

The creature did not turn to No Ralen's true position and had not appeared to move. In truth there had been movement and yet no weapon had been drawn. It had been the creature's gloved hands that had rent and torn asunder the iron chains and scattered their fragments upon the monastery roof. "Shameful.", the man muttered. "Iarann." The last word seemed to vibrate the air.

From the heavens above the crystal arrow sank into the shadows of the creature. A bright, ethereal light filled the crystal, the strength of a thousand souls. Should the arrow come in contact with it's target, the souls of ancient heroes would grasp it with chains of fate and drag it to the ground.

At the same time as the first arrow fell, Two more came from either side of the creature, and another from far in front of it, as though the being who fired the arrows was in all places at once.

Arrows flew and for an instant No Ralen may have had hope that one of the arrows had connected. That moment in time came and went and no thud sounded to indicate that an arrow had found its mark.

Spiritual light blossomed, eclipsed by the writhing shadow. Clicks and growls issued. The ground cracked, buckling under the forces set loose. The many struggled against the one and found they could not make adequate contest. Heroic spirits were scattered like a dragon’s tail scatters pines. The writhing void ballooned out, coiling through the air like windblown smoke as dark as the space between stars. The light was murdered, cut down, and devoured.

Those chains of fate that found purchase were shrugged off easily, grating against links many times thicker, many times stronger. This creature had purpose and a fate not so easily changed. She may be fickle at times but the stab of her spear and the sting of her whip are more painful than any weapon yet wielded by No Ralen upon this roof. This creature had a terrible fate in its future but this was not the day.

Then all at once there was a blood curdling cry as if the daemon had been dealt a fatal blow. The shadow retreated, falling back into the center, collecting, recoiling and fading until it was no longer shadow. There stood a man, cloaked, hooded, and cowled in ivory patterned with black script in the form of chains. His right hand lowered slowly from a ruby and gold clasp upon his left breast. In his left hand, between his fingers were the three arrows that No Ralen had fired. The arrows were cast away to fall off the roof top.

Now it had been that the arrows had come all at once or apparently so. The arrows had come from three different directions and three apparently different locations. If those arrows had truly come all at once or just very swiftly in succession the man in the cloak would know for even though the outside observer could not locate No Ralen, the man was glaring in his direction with cold steel eyes and could clearly observe him.

The initial illusion had not deceived him and No Ralen would find that wherever he moved, whatever attempt at swiftness, stealth, or trickery he made it would go unrewarded unless some vast amount of preparation of personal sacrifice was paid to achieve it.

As long as he remained in the man’s presence the archer would fail to escape his gaze. The air vibrated and cracked stone and tile rose into the wind, not bound by gravity, caught up in the cloaked man's aura. His predatory eyes narrowed and his right hand was brought near to his left hip. "Fine. If this is what you wish."