• Clouds gathered overhead above the empty, bombed out city of Melidross and the usual drizzle began. A single figure walked through the rain. His eyes darted toward the source of even the smallest sound. He was unaccustomed to the absolute silence in the dirty ghettos of the small city. His name was Drake and he was 17. Drake was a tall (5”7) thin boy, most of the people in Melidross were, and there was very rarely enough food to go around so most everybody was all too familiar with hunger. Drake’s face was slightly gaunt from days without nutrition but his electric green eyes seemed to illuminate it better. His fair skin was rough from a life of poverty and misadventures. The boy’s blonde hair was spiky and well groomed, despite his impoverished living, since disease and illness spread quickly through Melidross, hygiene was important among its population. A ragged, dirty, well worn trench coat swept the ground as Drake walked and his gloved hands were instinctively placed in his deep pockets. Drake was a pickpocket; he had to be to survive on the mean streets of the city. He wasn’t proud of what he had to do, but he vowed that as soon as the opportunity to leave the dirty city presented itself he would jump on it like a wolf. Little did he know that that opportunity would come sooner than he could have ever hoped it would.
    Drake’s eyes darted around as he searched for a sign of life in his grimy neighborhood. Nothing was to be found. It was as if everybody had just disappeared for no reason. Fires were still lit in their little pits and stews were still being prepared in their pots. It was like life had just stopped. Drake had no idea how long he had been wandering the suburb, looking for any traces of survivors.

    Survivors? He had thought to himself, not knowing why he was looking for something that by definition means there had been death, and from the state of the little town, Drake didn’t even want to think about how much death.

    The thief ducked down and looked into one of the ramshackle houses to see if its occupant was still there. They weren’t.
    Of course not. Thought Drake, not really knowing why he had even bothered to look. He continued to survey the tiny dwelling, his eyes falling on a small, silver pendant. How it had gone so long without being stolen was a mystery to Drake but his hand had already shot out to it. He held the jewelry close to his eye, it was of an angel, reaching out her arms as if to embrace her new owner. The tiny sculpture was masterfully crafted; every detail of the angel’s body was painstakingly sculpted to 100% accuracy. Smiling to himself, Drake tossed the loot into his pocket and rose to leave. As he exited through the doorway he bumped into someone in the streets, falling to the ground with a bump, his quest for survivors was forgotten as he spoke in an irritated tone to the one who had obscured his path.

    “Hey! Whatsa matter witcha?” he said in the slang long ago adopted in Melidross. “Cantcha see that I’m walkin’ he-uh?”

    He rubbed his butt as he looked up to the person. As soon as he laid eyes upon him, Drake remembered his search but immedietly realized that this was not a person that one wanted to find. A sense of fear came over his as he watched the tall figure turn around; he was garbed in a black trench coat with a hood obscuring his face. But what really stuck out to the boy was the sword that hung loosely in the person’s hand. It looked like a katana of black steel, the hilt almost looked to be made of bones and the air around the blade seemed twisted and deformed.

    “A survivor?” asked the figure aloud with a voice that sounded like crushed glass against metal.

    “Whowa you?!” questioned Drake, trying to suppress the fear in his voice.

    The figure leveled his blade with his target’s eyes, the air hissing as it moved. Then he spoke “I am a Shadow Dweller, My name is Iscariot.”

    “A Shada Dwella?” Drake was confused, were these Shadow Dwellers some cult, a murderous organization?

    “Yes.” Replied Iscariot “Not that it matters very much now, if at all. Your soul will soon fuel or purpose.” He lowered his weapon and flicked the tip across Drakes throat, slicing it wide open. His blood hissed and disintegrated before even touching Iscariot’s sword. Everything went white in Drake’s vision. He opened his eyes to find himself floating in an endless white.

    “Drake.” A sweet voice called out his name
    Drake looked out straight ahead and saw a winged silhouette approaching him, unlike Iscariot’s presence however, this one relaxed him.

    “Where am I? Who are you? What’s happening?” questions spewed out of Drake like a fountain.

    The figure laughed gently and embraced Drake in her arms. “Do not fear, I am Aereoth, the High Priestess of Angels, I am not your enemy. The Shadow Dweller who slew your entire community is. They are a threat to all humanity and angels as well. Please, help us to destroy them and their demon kind.”

    “But what can I do against a demon?” asked Drake, not wanting to leave the embrace of Aereoth.

    “The same thing one other has done before you. Now, rise up Drake. Drake of Avalon.” Aereoth kissed Drake’s forehead, sensing his youthful attraction.

    Drake opened his eyes and he stood there, whole gain in front of Iscariot, his wound had vanished. So had his normal clothing, He was now garbed in a shining white cloak with white shirt and pants beneath. He felt a sensation on his back and turned to see two jet-black wings sprouting from him. He looked down to see in his hand a beautifully adorned crossbow. It was wrought of silver with an onyx handle that resembled that of a pistol’s. The top was golden angel with its arms and wings spread apart as if it was the arrow to be launched.

    “Avalon.” He said, recognizing the weapon that Aereoth had named.

    Responding to his call, the weapon glowed and radiated holy energy. Rising up on its own, Avalon shot a bolt of light at Isacariot, dissolving his coat and revealing the demon beneath. Iscariot, like Nero, had a body wrought from the shadows themselves, his long tail thrashed about and small wings jumped from his shoulders, his crimson eyes glowed with malice and bloodlust.

    “Ah! Aereoth’s claimed another has she?! No matter! You will die like the rest of them!” Iscariot lunged at Drake, his sword poised for a killing blow. Drake glided to the left as if on air and shot another bolt into Iscariot’s side, it hissed and steamed on contact, causing the Shadow Dweller to howl in rage. He jumped at Drake again only to miss again and suffer four bolts in his back.

    Is Aereoth allowing me to do this? Or Avalon? Thought Drake as he dodged another attack and retaliated with is own

    “Stand still whelp!” ordered Iscariot as he sliced at his foe

    Drake glided into the sky and fired a rain of shots at Iscariot, each finding their mark
    The demon’s blade glowed as he called out his technique “Soul Shredder!”
    Slicing upward, Iscariot launched an arcing wave of dark energy at Drake.
    Drake lifted Avalon with both hands and fired a large, spinning bolt, which sliced through the wave, making it dissipate, and slamming into Iscariot’s chest. Drake felt energy and power course through him as he aimed at Iscariot’s face.

    “Divine Rain!” called Drake as he glided into the air, firing continuously at his opponent, sending arcs of bolts at him, all of them hitting their desired mark. A long blade extended from the front of Avalon and impaled Iscariot as Drake dived at him, flinging him into the air. The rain itself glowed and formed holy bullets, striking Iscariot over and over again, eventually exploding until the Shadow Dweller was no more.
    Drake landed on the ground and folded his wings over his back.

    “Wow.” He said, looking at the weapon he held in his hand “Tha was amazin’.”
    He looked up to see another figure approaching, this one was very familiar to him.

    “Aereoth?” he said. She was the most beautiful creature Drake had ever seen, her long, shining sliver hair fell to her ample breasts which were held back by three strips of while cloth wrapped around them. Her fair skin was complemented by this and her cerulean eyes made her the kindest looking woman Drake had ever seen. He marveled at the six white feathered wings on her back.

    “Yes.” She replied “The shadow dwellers attempt the reawakening of the Eon Wyrm, this is a cataclysm that must be stopped. Do you understand what you must do, should you choose to accept?”

    “Aye. I unnerstand. I gota use this power that you’ve given me to kill these Shadda Dwellas wherever I finds ‘em.”

    “Good. Find one called Ein of Ragnarok. He is your ally. Use your angelic instincts and you will find him.” Said Aereoth

    “Thank you Aereoth.” Said Drake, humbled

    “Farewell Drake.” Said Aereoth, kissing Drake’s lips (his first) but holding it longer than Ein’s

    Everything was a blinding white again and Aereoth was gone and Drake was clothed normally again in the empty street, his hand flew inside his coat for the pendant he had found but instead was met with the handle not unlike that of a pistol. Drake smiled and began down the wet street, toward the outskirts of the city. It was time for him to leave.