Twice shall the light call out to the darkness and ask it to repent. Twice shall the darkness refuse and will condemn itself.

Proclamations 10:100

Noranda paced the palace halls. In the late hour, a mixture of excited and nervous energies roiled inside her and prevented her thoughts from settling. She thought it odd that her mind was so unable to find peace.

As she drifted along, the fallen angel came to a covered stone balcony overlooking an expanse of the gardens. Light of the Eye of Earoni bathed the meticulously kept congregation of trees and plants in a dim glow. Standing there, she observed the darkness, knowing that she must put the unease within her to rest. It would serve no purpose to allow it to thrive and distract her.

One hand secured on the stone railing, Noranda studied the reddish circular imprint on the palm of her other. It might have healed from when she had tried to touch the medallion Cassandra wore, but not completely. Now it remained as a not-so-subtle reminder of her past choices that had driven her to this place in her life.

First in her thoughts however were how Lord Hedric had tasked her to lead his troops against rebel forces amassing near the city of Ishenvol. Reports had come in about an army like none seen since the fall of Hitithe and the great battles fought as Lord Hedric swept out of Srabeth and across Hitithe. Once he had united the Crimson Thrones, and cast down the last of his fellow Blood Lords, it was only a matter of time before his army led by those who feasted on the blood of the living would triumph. And triumph he had.

So decisively, in fact, that for the hundreds of years since there had been no serious challenge to his rule. Until perhaps now. Supposedly there was a cleric, a true cleric, leading them, and Noranda wanted to see if such was the case for herself.

The opportunity presented to Noranda was one of redemption. Lord Hedric hadn't allowed her such a privilege since failing him at the Mount of Carnak. Having been there, having seen the shrine with her own eyes, he could not fathom how she did not remember how to find the temple where the Tear of Earoni had been laid to rest. But the truth was, she did not. That important memory had been so thoroughly and completely erased to the point where there was not even the chance it could be reclaimed as a dream.

With Cassandra leading the attack on Fimmirra, Lord Hedric had tasked the fallen angel to once more lead his armies into battle. And she did not want to fail him.

While she weighed this opportunity in her mind, her thoughts were stirred by a something else that was shapeless and nameless, but constant. It kept poking at her consciousness. As if it were the tip of a knife from an assassin's blade while the assailant who held it remained stealthily hidden.

Before her, out in the garden, a light flickered. And then it was gone. Noranda strained to see. "What?" She questioned as the twinkle, like a star come down from the heavens made its presence known a second time for a fleeting moment.

Pushing up straight, she heard her own voice once more call her name. "Noranda." A scowl creased her face as the annoying tone said yet again, "Noranda."

She focused her eyes on the spark of light in the garden. Arms crossed before her chest, a slurred incantation of magical words tumbled from her lips. Her form vanished from the shadows of the balcony.

Traversing time and space in the blink of an eye, she reappeared among the trees near where the light had been. The air was still, and Noranda studied her surroundings.

"Nothing," she muttered. "I must be more tired than I thought."

Noranda pulled her hands up to reverse her spell and return to the palace, but a sudden bright light bewildered her. She dropped her arms in disbelief, once more face to face with the being of dark hair and angelic wings hovering in front of her. The words, "Not again," came out as a growl.

"Noranda, please. There is no time left. What was done is done. But the future is more important than the failures of our past."

With a shake of her head, Noranda rebuffed her mirrored self. "I didn't fail. I was merely made to see the truth. That Earoni is not a kind nor forgiving sovereign. And her power? Her power is nothing compared to that which she will soon be no longer able to contain."

"You know that every word you have just uttered is untrue."

"I know that once Descist is free, a new order will reign over the cosmos." The medallion about her neck turn hot, sparking lively to protect the fallen angel as she drew in power. "And I know that this time? This time you will not survive." Lightning flashed down in jagged paths down from the sky, blasting the very place where the being of light stood.

However, although the being no longer existed before her, its voice remained. "Noranda, we have already been through this before. You do not understand how dire the situation has become. The universe hangs by the most delicate of threads."

"Then that is a thread I shall gladly be the shears with which to cut it. Leave me!" Then she declared, "You are not me! I reject you, and all that you represent!"

Silence. Then, "So be it."

And with that proclamation, the voice was no more.

Noranda lingered, a light nighttime breeze playing through the branches and leaves.

She waited to see if the being of light would speak to her again, wanting to hear, just once more, an offer at salvation. Just one more. That is all she wanted, telling herself one more offer would prove her wrong. Telling herself that with one more offer she could believe that there was a hope to regain what she had lost and attained redemption.

But such would not come. And when it did not, she knew all she believed about how the cruelty of the Greater Goddess was real. There could be no salvation, not for her. And now she could carry on down her dark path knowing that she was justified.

Wasted down to a frail and hollow remnant of her once and former glory, Earoni's divine soul rested on a bed conjured out of the ether. At her side, holding his breath in anticipation, the tall, bald angel's wings drooped from their normal crispness.

None were aware of her failing condition, save him. He did not know how to tell any of the others, be they angels or gods. But he wondered if they noticed the recurring quakes rippling through the ether as her grip on the order of all things faltered. He counted each of the gentle and shallow breaths she took, seeming so frail; almost mortal. If she continued to deteriorate, soon her body would be little more than a husk devoid of any divine spark. And Descist will have won.

The archangel kept telling himself there was hope. But at the same time he knew there was nothing that could be done.

There was a noticeable increase in the ether's movement, causing Earoni's servant to break his concentration on her and look up and away from his Goddess. He felt another powerful presence approaching; one he recognized, but one that was also a stranger.

Standing, he allowed his robes to catch themselves on the now heavy and gusting heavenly winds, beholding a light as it gleamed forth. "You?" he called in disbelief as the dark-haired form he once knew well became visible to him. "How is it you have returned? Leave this place, Noranda. You are not welcome here. The Greater Goddess can not tolerate your wicked presence at this time."

A bright beam of light formed in his hand and molded itself into the most magnificent of all swords. One that only a heavenly being could wield. He moved to stand between the angel who had been cast out of the heavens and his goddess.

The translucent being he feared regarded him. Her robes of white ran about her form along the ethereal currents. She held The Herald fast with a gaze that was both gentle enough to sooth a child's nightmare but also strong enough to turn back a mountain crumbling beneath the force of an earthquake. Frozen, incapable of stopping her, she walked past her fellow archangel and kneeled at Earoni's side.

"I have not come for any reason," she answered in hushed tones, "except to see that the Greater Goddess's power does not falter any further. Descist cannot be allowed to break free of his prison and enter the mortal realm."

"What do you care? You betrayed us."

Noranda bowed her head. "Perhaps once," she admitted. Placing her hand over the forehead of Earoni, the strain of all she was under was like the weight of the world bore upon the shoulders of a single ant. "But her son never truly commanded my heart and soul. Those have always belonged to Earoni."

"Lies!" The Herald accused. He broke himself free of the trance she had placed upon him, reaching out to pull her away from his goddess. His hand passed straight through her and he stumbled back. "What are you?"

"Despite that which has happened, I am what I have always been." Her body began to glow a light blue. "I am essence. And I am beyond. I am as I told you; heart and soul only. And I have come to make right my past transgressions."

"You are no god! What can you do?"

Noranda's power ebb, drifting away until she had not the strength to respond. But as she withered, Earoni's form regained some of its form and color.

The attending angel watched as she began to fade from sight until all that remained was a pinpoint of blue light on the floor where Noranda had once been.

Earoni's eyes opened, blinked slowly, and The Herald rushed to the aid of his goddess. She sat around, the last thing she remembered was standing in her audience hall and then nothing. "What has happened," she asked of the angel at her side. Then her eyes fell on the blue light.

"I do not know," he replied. The angel reached down and picked it up and handed it to her. "I do not know how to explain it but- Noranda. She came."

"Noranda?" Earoni took up the light. "Can it be?" She held it and bathed in the purity of all that remained of the once fallen angel's being. "The Angel Soul. Noranda is still pure." The glimmer faltered slightly, but quickly regained its glow. "How could I not have seen that?"

"I do not understand."

Earoni was still lacking strength, but her power returned with a slow trickle. She no longer had to fight back the constant push of her son, for another had taken up that charge. "She gave herself so that I may be relieved of the burden of my son."

"That's not possible. She can not last against his might."

"Only time will tell. Where she has gone, I can not protect her. But I will hold her Angel Soul safe hopes that she can and will one day return to us, so I may tell her I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused her."