Wolfwood

The outermost boundaries of the Combat Plains were guarded by towering granite peaks that seemed to reach up through the dense gray clouds that laced their summits into the Heavens above. The nearly vertical slopes of the peaks had deep, jagged cliffs carved into them and were devoid of any significant plant life, save the scraggly sage bushes and gnarled brambles. Yet, there was one animate being present amongst barren slopes, a man standing atop a large cliff outcropping. This being was only alive because rather than drawing his power from the mountain, he drew his life...his power...his purpose from the Heavens.

The man standing on the cliff was not a giant of a man, but was slightly taller than most. He had a thin, but athletic build which belied his overwhelming amount of physical strength. He had shaggy, unkept blond hair that seemed to be constantly moving, as if it were constantly being blown by wind. His eyes were a deep, almost violet blue. He wore a pair of black slacks and a slightly wrinkled, untucked white dress shirt, all covered by a long, sweeping black tench coat. Around his waist, he wore a loose-fitting belt that had a crossdraw sheath fixed to his left side. The sheath, about the size of one meant for a dagger, contained no blade, but rather a shimmering gold crucifix about a foot long. The crucifix was His blade, and also Mihael's blade.

Mihael had traveled to the Plains at His will and now sat on this cliff looking out over the various landscapes of the Combat Plains. Dense forests, rugged deserts, white sandy beaches, and rolling fields. How can such a beautiful place be steeped in so much blood? Mihael wondered to himself. He then leaned down and picked up a stone from the ground by his feet. Leaning out over the edge of the cliff, Mihael dropped the stone and watched as it plummeted to the base of the mountain below; skipping off the sheer face of the cliff as it fell. All the while, Mihael scratched his chin as though he were deeply contemplating something, then the stone finally came to rest a few hundred feet below. There are some very strange currents in this place, nothing like the ones at Home. Mihael then shrugged his shoulders and took a large step off the cliff.

If anyone had been watching Mihael fall from the cliff to the ground, they would have thought he was walking down an invisible spiral staircase. He seemed to float in the air with no visible effort and landed at the mountain's base with barely a sound. Mihael stood amongst large boulders with the towering slope at his back and shoved his hands deep in his pockets then began walking into the inner regions of the Combat Plains, with a large field in the center of the plains as his destination.

After nearly an hour of walking, Mihael had only covered about half the distance he needed to to reach the field, when he stopped at the side of a crystal clear river to rest and catch his breath. The feeling of exertion was a new one to Mihael, at Home he was completely free and ever-energized by His grace. Being bound by the natural laws and forces of the Earth was a wholly new experience for him. After a few minutes, Mihael stood from the rock he was sitting on and walked towards the river. Bending down at its edge, he cupped his hands together and placed them in the mirrored surface of the river. The rivers contents were ice-cold, another new sensation for Mihael, and amazingly refreshing to Mihael's parched throat as he tipped his cupped hands to his mouth and drank.

Feeling like a new man, Mihael stood and started his way down the side of the river, looking for an appropriate face to cross. After a half-mile or so, he found a shallow pool that was lined with large stones. Mihael was about to step on to the nearest stone, when he caught a glimpse of motion in the corner of his eye. Rather than turning immediately to locate what had moved, Mihael stood still and closed his eyes, focusing on his sense of hearing rather than sight. A branch breaking directly behind him, a stone shifting to his right- there were two of them. After a few more seconds of listening, Mihael opened his eyes and spun around to meet the character lurking behind him. His eyes met with a man brandishing a large battle-ax.

"And you are?" Mihael asked the man with narrowed eyes.

"I'm the man who is going to kill you!" the man roared back.

"And what about your friend? Is he going to kill me too, or is he just kind to watching others die?" Mihael goaded.

The man paused at these words, a shock look flashed over his face for a mere second before he corrected his face back into a glare. He then motioned for the unknown person to Mihaels right to come over. "Well, I guess we're both men who are going to kill you!"

At that moment, the second man came rushing at Mihael from the right, a large two-handed sword raised up over his head. Mihael lunged backwards to avoid mans crushing blow, which landed in the dirt. Mihael's effort had left him at the first mans mercy though, because he had found his way behind Mihael.

The first man's battle-ax tore through the air in a horizontal slash, meant for Mihael's sternum, but rather than the expected crushing sound of bone only a metallic clang rang out through the air. Mihael had reached into the sheath at his side and used his crucifix to block the ax.

Surprised, the first man retreated back a few yards from Mihael and rejoined his comrade. The two looked menacingly at Mihael, who now stood facing the pair, although his was bowed and his hands clasped over the longer end of the crucifix; its top end facing the ground. The two attackers could see Mihael's lips moving, but could not make out what he was saying.

"Oy," the first man yelled. "What are you mumbling over there? If you've got any last words you might as well say them out loud."

Following the man's words, Mihael stopped speaking and raised his eyes to meet those of his attackers. Mihael then shouted "Fides!"

A blue flame ignited in the cross-section of the crucifix Mihael held in response to Mihaels shout. The flame began to engulf Mihael's hand, although it didn't burn the skin, and then began to twist down the end of the crucifix not held by Mihael, which was elongating down towards the ground. There was then a large flash of light, that caused the two attackers to shield their eyes with raised hands.

As the flash subsided, the attackers lowered their hands and saw Mihael still standing in front of them. The only difference being that the crucifix he held in his hand before was now transformed into a long sword, with a blade apparently made of shimmering blue energy that seemed to waver as the tip of a flame.

"What the hell is that!?" The second attacker yelled to his comrade, although his eyes were still fixed on Mihael's blade.

Mihael answered the attacker's question in his comrades place. "This is the power of His grace. This is the power of Faith."

With those words, Mihael lowered his body and lunged at the two attackers, bring his right hand holding the sword across his body, poised to strike. The attackers looked on, horrified, as Mihael approached and passed between their two bodies, slashing his sword in an arcing horizontal strike as he passed by them.

Mihael's blade seemed to pass right through them and inflicted no visible external damage, but the blade had done it's job. The two attackers turned to face Mihael, who was now crouched on both knees behind them, his back open to attack. But rather than attack Mihael, the two attackers dropped their weapons to the ground and fell to their knees, raising their heads up towards the blue sky above. It was a minute or so before anything was said and Mihael was the first to speak.

"You see it now, don't you?" Mihael asked as he too looked up at the sky. "The power of Faith that is."

The two attackers didn't speak, but only nodded in reply.

"I have cleansed your souls of the malice and evil that festered within you and He has given you a fresh start. I have begun my mission and will not stop until this place is sanctified." Mihael said as he stood.

Turning to look at the two men who were still knelt down, Mihael spoke again, softer than he had before. "This is His gift to you; a fresh start. The decision of what to do with this gift is up to you...free will and all. I can only pray that you may one day give this gift to another."

With that, the blue energy of Mihael's blade dispersed, and he sheathed the crucifix once again. Then, without another word, Mihael turned and began walking towards the river's edge. As he started walking over the line of rocks, Mihael paused as he heard the two men's words. "Thank you."

Thanks is not due to me, but to Him.

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We're nothing like God. Not only do we have limited powers, but sometimes we're driven to become the devil himself.