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Everything seemed to move too fast. The world spun on an axis prevalent towards the perils of the mind. It's complexity lingered in the state of things that always were and would always be. But this time it spun too quickly. Eternities passed over the angel in quick jolts of flashing light as the hellish imps of past generations clung at his heels.

She prayed, or at least she appeared to pray. What thoughts swam in her head were as mysterious as her origins. The black rose of the field held the allusion of all that was beautiful in the world of darkness. Odd that, even when Nayko found himself in the coterie of the Grigori, he still held his archaic views of the Choir. It took a simple battle during a unique tournament to show the angel how skewed that dogmatic ruling is.

Nayko sat against a knoll and clasped his hands to his chest. "My life is meant to serve those in need; or at least that's what I've come to believe." He bowed before his friend and rose smiling. "What is it that you need of me, my dear friend."

The object of his attention is a curious invention that he possibly heard about before. It swirled like the orbs Nayko created for decoration, but held a much less homely appeal. This wasn't for display, clearly. It possessed a certain elegance that only weapons of battle harnessed and put forth on the field. This orb, as it were, contained the essence that made all men yearn for battle.

"I have heard," Nayko began, taking a closer look at the blood red jewel, "of an ability to utilize one's own blood and focus it as a weapon. Many demon and human alike have learned to manipulate their own blood into truly dangerous weapons. Could this be one of those weapons? I've never before seen one, nor have I seen anything quite like this." A perfect position to help one's friend. If Nayko was unable to identify even something as this, how could he hope to aid his friend in this dire time?

The shriek of the monstrosity shook Nayko through the marrow of his bones. Instincts, or what were labeled as such, took hold and he began drawing upon his aura. His body shook and the sweat now forming out of nervousness froze onto his skin. Nayko searched for some trace of himself in this form about to lash out, and he found one remaining tendril of sanity. He touched it gently with his mind, and a roaring voice poured over him. His body stilled and his sweat thawed, and all the while time seemed to stand still. Calm took control, and that shred of control traced to something beyond the angel. It stretched farther than his wings, farther than his eyes. He could feel home; he could feel heaven.

Too long did the angels pass judgment over others while keeping their gaze averted from home. Too long have the righteous been praised and the wicked damned in such callous terms as to denounce something beautiful. Rykono knew the beauty of all creatures. That's why he left, and that's why he died. He refused to accept the Choirs insistent preachings while the flock flew fast towards certain dismay.

Letting the breath he held so long finally escape his lips, Nayko faced his friend with a renewed order. Tampering with souls was a slight against many. Not only was it simply dishonorable to snatch a soul from the beyond, but it was even more malicious to make it your slave. A soul is a sacred thing to which all living consciousness house their identity. To take one and twist it went against everything the Order of the Virtuous represented.

Yet, Reinhart wasn't that sort of man. He wouldn't purposefully condemn those at peace into a damned life of servitude. But something nagged at the back of the angel's struggling mind. Why would he be so nervous with this ability if it didn't do any harm? Perhaps Nayko misread it entirely, and perhaps it was a newly created soul. But that wasn't possible. All souls that ever were, and ever will be were housed in Araboth; the seventh heaven. Inside the House of God rested the Guph, a vault containing all the souls yet to be born. Did Reinhart find a way into that most holy of keeps? "What did you accomplish just now?" He had to know. Nayko swore an oath of life in being one of the few able to protect that most precious treasure.

Trying to unravel the very essence of an angel's beliefs is no doubt the most difficult thing another being could attempt. Their lives start bathed in preaching and are tempered in the voice of righteousness. To know anything else is considered either irrelevant or blasphemous. Yet as all species progressed, so did the notion of testing these ideals. If the belief failed, it meant a certain disbanding of the ranks and a pivotal change in power. That's why the Choir revoked unchallenged belief. Only pure and refined wisdom came from their lips like the bitter sustenance a mother bird vomits into their hatch lings.

Yet, even to disregard all that one knows because one thing becomes twisted isn't a rational step at all. It's a cowardly way to be right and to adapt to a situation that needs no adaptation of the self but merely an adjusting of the eyes. Many angels found themselves faced with dire consequences for publicly speaking out against the Highers. But something drove them, perhaps to insanity, to inform all of the wickedness in our subjugation of all other creatures. Clearly, there were beings, other than those born in Celestia, that housed extraordinary power. Nayko stared down at one now, curious and bewildered at the monstrosity of this man's abilities.

Never in all his years, though Nayko found his age to be far to feeble in the grand scheme of things to truly make him an expert of any of his respected titles, did the Virtue of the Choir of the All Mighty Seraphim witness a man pose as a portable Guph. Once again, with lacking experience and a confused persona, Nayko dove head first into another journey of the utmost care. "What..." His sentenced trailed off as he retraced his thoughts. He didn't have a direct way of asking for any information that would be helpful; especially if Reinhart didn't know the entirety of this situation.

"What would you have me do? I understand that not everything is certain, but what you've just described violates one of the most Sacred Tenets of all of Equestrian Lore. There can be no way for a mortal to house the most pure form of spiritual essence. No doubt there have been those who have summoned souls from alternate dimension before, those sorcerers of the demon civilization have shown me that much. But if I gather what you're giving me correctly, than you don't simply summon the soul from its resting point, you keep it. You keep it with you wherever you go and it will never find peace." Tears swelled around the angels softly flowing orbs. The tiniest trail of tears streaked the cream skin that, despite traveling abroad for several days, didn't have a single trace of dirt upon it. Each tear made it half way down the angels face before freezing over and disintegrating into the wind. "Reinhart..." Nayko repressed a sob and dropped to his knees. His stomach tightened and he felt as if he were going to regurgitate the last ten years of his life. "Reinhart...What would you have me do?"

"No, Reinhart," Nayko rose from his depression on the hill and squared off with his friend, "Forgive me for disappointing you." The cold tone that lept from his lips held the same chill that filled the ever growing tension in the air. The angel bowed before the instigator of his mental anguish, and revoked his previous thoughts. Reinhart spoke truly. Nayko was an angel, and as such he possessed a duty more virtuous than the holiest knight, more pure than any man of the cloth, and more revered than any hero of the ages. All angels were selected by God to safeguard the lands, liberties, and lives of the people who believed. Yet, here, one of the most renowned Virtues of the Aquarius Choir, knelt before a man who sought his help. The blow to the pride of Celestia would be unforgivable. Nayko knew the ramifications, but that would be taken into account later. The current distress required his full attention and dedication.

As an angel, Nayko swore to protect those that needed a shield, to fight for those who needed a sword, and to provide a mind for those with any doubts. Belief constructed his life, but he refused to let it rule him any further. An angel is nothing less than a man in the clouds. Nayko's time on the surface emulated that saddening fact. Humans had begun a tremendous climb in power, and hell spawn, demon-folk, matched the guardians of sanity for strength of control. The brilliant part of it all was that none of that mattered, but Nayko couldn't get his mind away from it. He needed to help Reinhart. That's what his current objective was, and he promised to give Reinhart the help he deserved. "Test me, Reinhart. I don't think words alone will portray exactly what it is you wish to share with me. Perhaps a more somatic approach is in order."

Nayko shed his worry, his doubt, and his outrage. None of those feelings served any use in a matter that required the utmost care. There couldn't be any retraction from this engagement; not after Nayko traveled so for. He flared his wings and drew in his breath. The icy wind chilled his throat and relaxed his muscles. This would be intense, and despite Nayko's general dismay of fighting between comrades, this seemed different.

As sure as Reinhart was that there would be an inevitable amount of pain rushing toward Nayko, the angel somehow found a solace in that confidence. At least something would be getting done, and perhaps some conclusive results would be brought about from encountering this phenomena; rather than just simply assuming. Nayko eased himself into position. The tension of all those previous acquisitions left him stiff and unable to flow with his aura.

The plains grew steadily darker. Every blade of grass cast a tremendous shadow over its brethren and the hills swarmed with a black overcast that loomed away from the pair of warriors. Nothing moved, nothing breathed, nothing uttered a single sound. The light from the world dimmed, as if it were leeched out of the air. Standing in the middle of the black canvas the sky had now become was a pillar of pure luminescence radiating from Nayko. Gold light billowed off the pearled wings of the angel and rose in thick plumes that dazzled in the shaded sky. Up above, a rift in the black mass tore open, and a beam of white light descended upon the angel. "Pain, is something we all endure. The acceptance of it makes us stronger, so long as we survive it. How strong will you make me with this new gift of yours?"

From his outstretched hand, the golden light blazed forward in a bolt of spiraling energy. The bolt erupted into a spreading wave of radiating tendrils that screamed in the uneasy silence of the bleak surroundings. Start things off quick, and with some new moves. Nayko new Reinhart would be expecting his Celesial gift to harness the water of the world to do his bidding. But this situation required more divine tutelage in which to engage this bizarre ability.

There was a hint of doubt, a terrible twang of guilt toward what Nayko just did. The crater where Reinhart stood smoked in the blackness that covered the plains. There is no possible way that Nayko could have obliterated a man as epic as his friend. The mere thought of him falling to an attack like that was inconceivable. Yet, nothing remained. Where once a mighty warrior stood, a gaping hole in the smoldering darkness remained. If not for the faith in his friend, the arrogance of his kind might have led him to not anticipate the unknown.

Nothing would prepare Nayko for whatever came, except the knowledge that something would indeed come. The light that still hovered around the angel flared in a blaze that would have shed a new light onto a blind man. Reinhart was clever, and all who faced him new that. Although, perhaps it wasn't his shrewdness that got him through the day, but his stubborn luck that shined through even this light. When all things were said and done, this would be more of a battle of faith then a contest of strength. Nayko knew that to use another beings soul for personal gain would only result in self destruction during the time of the Apocalypse. He refused to let his friend succumb to a damned fate.

Finally, pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. This wasn't a summoning of the damned, nor burdening of the blessed. The creature was a construct of pure unbridled will manifested into some form of a weapon. It's shape looked real enough, but its aura felt wrong. It felt like a soul. The sound of the aura hummed like the steady drum of the Guph back home. The creature appeared so familiar, Nayko almost lost sight of its presence and missed its gruesome charge. Everything about this entity challenged the very construct of the physical world. Nayko and this creature were more alike than he and Reinhart. Both were the manifestation of something metaphysical and both were the incarnation of something very much like a soul, only tainted.

The charge came swiftly, and the lack of vibration on the earth disturbed Nayko. He readied the light surrounding him and focused it in front of the Centaur. The point of the halberd struck the light and the nonexistent world that all things here and not shook with a tremendous eruption that quaked through every feather on the angels outstretched wings. Whether it was the superiority of the beast, or perhaps the bizarre strength of the summoner, Nayko's shield withstood no chance in defending the assault. The halberd slowly passed through the barrier, and came toward the angel in a speed that mocked all things unable to move. He stood, frozen, not so much in fear, but curiosity. The fragments of the light shield twirled slowly in the blackness, rays of light shot off in all directions seeking its origin in the world. The grass grew brighter, and the sky more vibrant, but Nayko knew not even the beauty of the surroundings could rid him of this pain.

The halberd slipped past the wall of light, and Nayko took to long to react. His wings folded against him and he ducked to the side. The powerful beast guided its attack and found a resting point for its weapon. A gash ran down the angel's back, or so he assumed. His life poured out of him, but he didn't die. The light in the world dimmed, even though it restored itself almost instantaneously. All about this made absolutely perfect sense; but to accept it meant Nayko would be scarred both mentally and metaphysically. The blow to his back stung more than any cut from a sword, or blow from a body. It hurt more than the occasion when he nearly lost a wing to wretched Hell Spawn monsters. Those monsters were saints for the little pain they delivered. Reinhart was the devil. No other being caused him this much pain; yet Nayko couldn't be more relieved. "Is that..." He stuttered trying to roll his face out of the grass. Any movement sent his body into a frenzy and he nearly passed out due to the pain. "Is that all you've got?" He chuckled, before his body convulsed so severely it sent him into unconsciousness.