Heaven vs Hell Redemption

[Aizen Teresaga]

Raven stalked the corridors of the Palace. Her own palace in Matreya had long since been reduced to ancient, crumbled ruins. She was in awe of the legacy before her. How many Kings and Men had strode inside these walls? The grandeur humbled her intensely, and even reminded her of why she never took up her Royal Lineage as a Senarian. She worked with her people, bled with her people, laughed and cried with her people. She stood in front of them, or beside them--the former to protect them. Raven had found the mark of the Armory, where she ventured inside. The countless gear, chain mail, weaponry, and arsenals at her disposal. She quietly drifted, inspecting sword after axe after whip after staff, after bow and quiver. Much as she would in a library, Raven got lost in her inspection. Deep in thought, her mind split off to consider each piece of armor. Her eyes, glazed over in thought, returned to her gaze in the reflection of a Helmet.

This new equip magic was difficult for her. She had only forged the Armor of Cancer, and the last of her three new armors almost completed. She had acquired the right host for each armor--a certain Navajo Shaman, a Behemoth friend, a fellow Celestial who could not step foot in the realm of Heaven. The silence of the Armory was ringing in her ears; how long had it been? Five years? Dust swirled in the rays of light that penetrated the room. Her physical body could not age. She was beyond the age she expected--5,000 years! Her contact had not reached her yet--would she need to contact him?

Placing a Helmet down, Raven felt the tips of her fingers tingling. She strode back through the rows of the Armory. As she reached out with the new magic, each weapon and armor piece she touched, began to glow before fading away, into the spirit realm where her countless equips were stored. A spear here, a broadsword there. Leather bracers and chaps, a gauntlet or six. Shoulder pommels, an old set of scimitars. Each disappeared at her touch. Satisfied that she had acquired what was necessary, Raven stepped from the armory and down the hall, nodding curtly to courtiers and officials. The array of Celestials still astounded her; it was the mecca of Celestials and Lucas sat in the center of it all. Through the corridors and beyond several chambers, Raven came across a suitable conduit: a centered water fountain, exquisite in design. The whimsical sculpture of Angels dancing, casting divine water which reflected in the light overhead bearing down upon it The ever-churning water was soothing to hear, the breeze from the open portal the light shone through mesmerizing. It was picturesque and serene.

The armor, at her Will, engulfed in bright light as she exchanged the equip for a lesser form. As she stepped onto the frame of the fountain, she felt the stone beneath her bare toes. Raveena's Imperial Gown, it's soft white silk fluttering around her, wafted in the breeze created by the water fountain. Hitching the fluttering skirt in her hands, Raven stepped down into the water, a shock of cold racing through to the curve of her slender calves. It felt good to be this close to water, though she could not work in the symbiotic relationship that was established prior to the war. Raven inhaled deeply, the lids of her eyes falling shut. The fan of lashes descended, and Raven saw nothing but darkness. She focused on the tranquil tinkling of the fountain, the darkness giving way to white. She could feel the mental ethereal abilities pooling in the depths of her mind as she slipped into her own ID.

Well, well, a lovely lady in my dreams. I must be sleeping. The lilt of an English accent floated around her mind. Raven suddenly found herself on a balcony overlooking a Sunset. They were in a very high place, but the territory was unfamiliar to her. She turned to see a tall, lanky man. He had a button nose, and unruly brown hair that tousled around the nape of his neck. She felt his gaze on her, a wolfish grin on his lips. She had remained silent until he waved her silence off, You can speak here. You're dream walking, and this is my dream and I demand you speak.

Raven diffused, her tone flat as she spoke, You haven't contacted me Steve. It has been nearly half a year, and that is a lot of time where you are at! Have you discovered anything at all? Any leads?

Steve Brindley stuck his pinky in his left ear, twisting vigorously. You sound a lot prettier in person. Then again, Angels don't often visit me in my sleep, aye? I've had a few leads, and I am chasing them. I did not want to tell you anything that was not genuine. You've a pretty body on you, lady, and I aim to get it back. He winked at her, and Raven felt her temples throb at his unabashed flirting. Steve finally turned his gaze away, his features changing, his tone snide at irritated, Worry not little Angel Princess. I'm a con man, no doubt, but we have a deal. I will find your body Raveena. Now get out of my dreams so I can sleep in peace. You stir things that ought naught be stirred.

Raven snapped back to consciousness, her entire body trembling. The air was humming with ethereal magic. The water, her natural cardinal element, was something she often used to amplify her ethereal connections. It acted as a natural carrier for psychic power over long distances, and had served her well for scrying. She could feel blood trickling from her nose, and a dizzying high that cut the oxygen off from her brain. Collecting her soaked skirts, Raven stepped over and out of the fountain. It clung, cold and wet to her legs, and under any other normal circumstances, Raven could coax the water to seep from the cloth and return to the fountain. But the water could not hear her, now, and Raven had never felt so powerless. She hoped that her ability to use the arcane power of the zodiac to speak to the elements would work well for her. Sighing lightly, she turned, whisking her dripping skirts and stalking the halls again. Steve was her one shot at reclaiming her blood right. Raven was counting on his search.