Blood dripped down from his sword, the blood of my
brothers, and sisters. A pool of it was collecting on the ground where his blade touched the floor. I stared at the thickening pool as it swirled with feathers of their purity. The screams came then, roaring back into my head. Their piercing cry’s pleading for help, for a savior. I became angry. Who was this man to pass judgment on us? He was no angel, had no will of God, he shouldn’t have
been able to murder my kind and yet he had. He had killed so many with a single swing of his sword.
The sword screamed out in pain as it was slowly dragged across the floor. I unfolded my hands, praying to God had gotten my sibling killed and I’d be damned if I let this murderer do the same to me. I pushed myself from my kneeling position. My once white clothes were stained red but the blood had not come from me.
I reached for my own sword with my hands still slick and stained with Mercy’s blood. Her murder would not go unpunished. With a hard tug I pulled my sword out of its sheath. Darkness clung heavily around him like a second skin, but his murderous green eyes still shined through. Bloodied feathers licked the floor as he began walking towards me.