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Serendice leapt upward in a fit of passion, narrowly escaping the fiery rift created by Szanod. She landed roughly on the ground beside the dying angel. Serendice watched in anguish as her once beloved seraphim faded from sight, leaving her empty with only the sting of the truth of Szanod's words to compel her onward.
"Matt..." she whispered, a single tear sliding down her flushed cheek.
She bowed her head in pain and fear and felt the power of the darkness overtaking her. Perhaps now they should all die to justify her loss.
Serendice stood up, clutching the flaming sword, to meet whoever might advance...
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talk is cheap, so i buy every word you said.
scared me half to death, now i'm half dead.
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