So, it had begun! The Light shown across the lands in a never-ending daytime, keeping some of the forces of evil trapped in their filthy shadows. Lady Glory could sense all of the portals that had been opened allowing the angels to come through, to fight for her, to fight for these lands, to fight against the Evil and Sin of this world. Her Revolution kicked off Sirona decided that for now staying around the statue was the wisest idea, protect that and the portals would remain open. The longer they were opened the more angels came through, bolstering Sirona’s ranks with a near limitless supply of warriors.

Sirona was up in the Mountains, she knew that those who would move against her had already found a way to counter the magics she was using. That was fine, she would deal with that problem soon enough once she had consolidated more forces in the lands and around the statue. At this moment Lady Glory was standing before a small group who had been trying to make their way up the Mountain to the statue. They had started to fight against the angels but when Sirona herself landed between the two groups those who would attack the statue had backed away knowing who they now had standing before them.

Sirona had her full armour on a usual, black and white plates polished to a blinding shine, her hood was up over her head, but her brilliant blue eyes were shining through. Her wings were fully opened as if to use them to block the path, shield in her left hand and hammer in her right. She scanned those before her before speaking. ”Leave here, now! We are trying to help these lands! We are rooting out the Evil in these lands to make a better future for all! Why must you fight against this?!” Sirona side and gave her hammer a spin and settled into a ready position, and in response so did the angels who had her back. ”However, if this is a fight you wish to have, then so be it.”

Finally, at last he had a name to the face he had seen only a few moons ago. Lady Glory, or Sirona as was her given name, was the winged warrior who had refused to spar with him when he had first visited Sularia. Mithras had ordered his band to wait at the foot of the mountains. If he returned, he would tell them if they should engage or withdraw. But if he did not return within a certain period of time, then they were to advance and begin the hunt. The source of the mysterious beings appeared to be this place. The statue which was seen from afar gave him direction. As he drew close, he saw there were others who already were discontent with the goddess and the never-ending daylight she had brought. As a familiar voice rang out, a grin spread across his face, exposing his fangs. It was her, without a doubt. That aura of power which radiated from the entirety of one's being, the aura of those they called 'gods'. Each one had its differences, but the sensation he had in their presence was unchangeable. While those gathered began to show signs of apprehension, a lone figure strode boldly forward to meet the armored angel. With an amicable tone, the lion-headed lord spread his arms wide. "We meet again, Winged Warrior. Or as they call you–Lady Glory." 

Looking over the unusual beings who were protecting her from being flanked, he returned his gaze back onto Sirona. "If you would stay your hand for a moment, I would like to ask a question which only you can answer. Tell me Sirona, what is 'sin' and 'evil'? I am curious, and wish to hear what knowledge and wisdom deems so." His words were the truth. He truly was curious. Unlike those here, Mithras did not come simply out of an act of retaliation or resistance. The primal lord earnestly wished to know the reason behind the goddess's course of action to clear up the doubts and questions floating within his mind. Crossing his arms, he awaited the goddess's response. There were no signs of worry or tension in the posture of his body, and his crimson eyes looked directly into hers. Some would call him brave, others brazen and foolish. But that was who Mithras was. He had no reason to hide his intentions, no reason to deceive or lie. He was no coward, in any sense of the word.

Sirona watched as the single figure among those opposed to her stepped up and she recognized him right away. He was the man that wanted a spar with her back a way at some festival, after Shiloh had run off after seeing him. Sirona still didn’t know the whole story between them and didn’t much care. But he was here now, bravely standing before her and asking her what sin and evil were, and to stay her hand in the meantime.

She had to admit he was a brave one, his body language said that he was relaxed, her own brilliant blue eyes watching his crimson orbs. As per his request Sirona nodded and lowered her hammer taking a relaxed stance in turn, she was more than happy to talk instead of fight, she preferred it. ”Put simply they are actions that harm others, or yourself, in small and large ways. Murder is the obvious example, along with theft, rape, slavery, these kinds of things run rampant in the lands and must be stopped.” She explained, voice calm. ”Now, you might ask; what about self defence? Yes, there can be cases made for self defence, when you have no other alternative to protect yourself or your family then to remove the threat permanently is the moral option. It is what we are doing today.”

Her eyes seemed to brighten some more. ”The people of the lands aren’t defending themselves, the poor and weak are unable to, so it falls to us. We are taking up that mantle for them, to protect them from not only outside threats but themselves if needed. My warning was clear, stand with us, stand aside or stand against us. The choice is yours, all of yours. Walk away now, go home to your families if you have them. I beg of you, violence is not the answer I wanted, but I knew it was inevitable. I…”

From somewhere in the backline of the people behind Mithras shot an arrow towards Sirona. It struck her chest plate and shattered doing no damage. The collected angels started to shift as one towards the people, but Sirona’s hand shot up and they stopped, and she sighed sadly and looked to broken arrow and then to Mithras again. But then turned to the crowd behind him. ”Please, I am in the middle of a conversation. I will ignore, one time, that interruption, but if it happens again, then I will take it as a sign that the talk is over.” Which meant she’d attack.

Sirona looked back to Mithras again. ”As I was saying. I simply wish to help make a better world for everyone, one of peace, one where people can walk the streets at night in a city and not fear for their lives. One where people don’t have to beg for food, or steal it, to survive. These things are possible if we can remove the corruption from within.” She waited to see Mithras’ reaction.

He and Sirona were in agreement over many things. Indeed, such unfair and petty actions she called 'sins' were all things he had never accepted. To attack those who were weaker than oneself meant you were a coward, or else you would have challenged someone who was on more equal footing. If one had to hide their intentions, then they had no confidence that they could win in a fair fight. To Mithras, those were the most pitiful of all. Not the thieves who stole food, not those who were just trying to get by. Even the creatures known as vampires were no different from beasts sating their hunger to live another day. Wanton killings and senseless violence in excess was distasteful. The most savage of beasts would never kill more than they needed. It would seem that Sirona had seen her current course of action as a last resort than her primary motivation. His contemplation was interrupted by the whistle of an arrow, shot by some cowardly fool who dared to take this chance in hopes of landing a critical blow while Sirona was distracted. It was no surprise that the arrow broke and fell as a wasted effort. His eyes narrowed in displeasure at the sight. It was no wonder the winged warrior thought so poorly of them. If anyone had dared to do such a thing on Mount Qala, they would have been struck down where they stood and their weapons ground into dust before their very eyes. 

Unfazed, she then continued her explanation, voicing her desire to rid the world of such meaningless and unneeded conflict by removing the cause–the corruption known as sinners. Placing a hand to his chin while he collected his thoughts, Mithras looked back at her with one more question. "Instead of removing the 'corrupted', why not simply remove the very source of their corruption itself? If the desire to commit such acts were eliminated as a whole, then no one would commit crimes ever again. I am not speaking of the enforcement of punishment–I speak of the very tendency rooted within the heart of man that drives him to believe that he should hate, kill, and covet. What does not exist cannot come into fruition." Before the angel could answer, he turned to face the gathered crowd behind and gazed upon them with burning bloodlust. "I see you all are growing quite restless standing around and listening to us babble. If your patience is at its limit, then I suggest you withdraw back to the foot of the mountain. But if you wish to exchange blows, I have no qualms in having a bout with you all…until the ground is stained red." He flashed a grin, exposing his fangs while exuding an overwhelming aura of intimidation. There was no doubt that if they dared to make another move, he would keep his word. "There will be no more interruptions whilst we discuss." What he said was an order, not a request.

Revolution. 

The word was bitter upon Artiya'il's tongue as the Archangel made her way through the sky to where her sister had set up camp. How many wars had humans started in the name of 'revolution' back home? Countless, that was how many. If she searched deep within herself Artiya'il knew that she would have been able to put a true number to it, for who carried the Sorrow from each and every skirmish? Her of course. It was her duty, it was her purpose and privilege, it was her entire reason for being… and it was her curse. 
Now, as war stirred on Revaliir once more (it was beginning to feel as though this world never truly got a break, what with the Eldritch horrors, and then the spire and now Sirona…) and the denizens of this world answered the call to both sides, Artiya'il heard the call of their Grief loud and clear just as she always did. She could feel the pull on her heart, calling her to her duty, begging her to tend to the wounds of those on the verge of greater destinies, crying out for her to relieve them of the ache in their hearts - but she could not answer them, not now, not yet. There was a grief far greater that needed to be dealt with first, one that she had ignored for too long as it was masked behind a self-righteousness so bright that even she had been blind to its true nature.

Until now. 

Angry as Artiya'il was at her sister for the pain she had caused Shiloh (which was what had driven the Archangel to action in the first place) she still cared for Sirona, and despite what the rest of the Host might think of her, she would not ignore the pain her sibling was feeling. She had just not recognised it until it was too late. 

She felt the sting of her younger sister's words as Sirona addressed the citizens standing against her plans and once again she cursed Gabriel's name. Losing a wing had not been punishment enough for all the hurt her Uncle had inflicted about her sibling, but she could not have condoned Sirona doing more to him than that at the time either. For Sirona this was all very black and white - she was on the side of Good and she was ridding the world of Evil… what she failed to see was that her actions were no better than that of the beings she wished to eradicate, and that was the fine line that those on the side of Light had to toe every day of their lives… something that Arti had recognised quite early in her existence. Angels were ridiculous really, these 'pure' beings who were meant to be the beacon for all things virtuous - if anything the Host were as likely to commit Sin as any. Sirona's Sin, like Gabriel's, was Pride. Not in the same fashion, but it was, and Wrath in her own way… but Arti knew that her sister would not see that, she believed that what she was doing was right - just as God had on Earth. 

As she neared the arena, Artiya'il spotted her sister with another and she raised an eyebrow, wondering who had dared approach the Goddess this close given the current situation. Settling on the mountain Artiya'il furled her blood-red tipped white wings to her back, flicking hair of the same colour over her shoulder. Immediately her sister's foreign Angels and Anointed turned toward her and the Archangel snorted. "I have come to speak with my sister, I do not come to fight unless you fight me first, so I suggest you step away from me," she stated simply in her usual monotone… though there was a darker hint behind each syllable than was usual for Arti. 
She watched as they stepped out of her way and she nodded, she would have fought her way to Sirona's side if she had to but she would prefer to converse with her sister without resorting to violence first. As she made her way towards the pair she heard the conversation, again she understood Sirona's sentiment - was that not why the Angels had been created in the first place? Was that not why she and Sirona and their family existed? Yes. In a way, but if Sin had never meant to exist, nor Evil, then why had God created Artiya'il to remove Grief from those that suffered it?

"Because without Evil there can be no such thing as Good, without Darkness there is no Light. They are one and the same, forever toeing a fine line, on the verge of tipping over the edge and becoming the other. Every being is born with the ability to go either way, though most strike a balance and sit on neither side unless something calls them to the other side for some particular reason. While I do not agree with the Sins my sister is trying to eradicate, I do believe that there are better paths than the one she has chosen to take, sadly Sirona you were not by our side when such battles as this were waged back home, and the ones you might have remembered were robbed from you by that insufferable Gabriel. No, the Sins you wish to rid this world of should not be tolerated and I do not condone them, but neither do I condone your actions that you take now. How are you any better than those you wish to bring to justice Siri?" Arti asked her, using the nickname she had called her sister when first Sirona had been created. "Do you know how many I have served since you took to the streets to rid this world of Evil? How much Grief I now carry because of you? The burden of their sorrow is now mine, my wings tainted by the mourning of thousands because of this crusade. You are better than this." 

Sirona was happy to see that Mithras was still interested in holding a conversation as he replied back to her. His points were valid and she had thought of them before. She didn’t interrupt as he addressed those behind him, calling for them to leave if they couldn’t handle the talking going on. But that he’d also attack should they chose that option. Sirona raised a brow, did that mean he might fight along side instead of against her?

But before Sirona could answer the presence she had felt a few moments before came closer and spoke up. Sirona sighed sadly, she had knew Artiya’il would probably show up at some point, but, honestly, it was a visit from her big sister that she wasn’t looking forward to. She did not interrupt Artiya’il as she spoke, Arti gaining a small grin at the sound of the childhood nickname Arti had used for her.

As Arti finished Sirona had a sad look on her face as she stepped closer to her big sister, she hadn’t forgot Mithras and hoped he understood the situation. Sirona reached out to take Arti’s hand in her own, a gesture that anyone who knew Sirona would know was a rare thing for her to do. ”My dearest big sister, you have my deepest apologies for what I have put you through, and those that you have helped in their time of Grief.” Sirona reached out then to gently run a hand along Arti’s tainted wings, a tear even escaped down Sirona’s cheek. ”This was not the solution I wanted, but it is the one that I feel must happen, I am prepared to be hated by many for what is happening.” She stepped back from Arti for the moment to address Mithras again.

”I am afraid I do not believe that what you suggested is not wholly possible. We can ease some of it, I have tried that already by providing food and shelter to the homeless and hungry so that they do not have to steal. By assisting orphanages in getting what they need so that the children are either adopted or, failing that, are educated and trained enough to find a job to sustain them.” She explained. ”But these are not enough, for that source of corruption will always exist in hearts and minds. Punishment will work for some to set them on a path of Light, others the mere threat of punishment will work the same.”

Now she addressed both Mithras and Arti as she continued. ”I am not fool to think that this Revolution will forever eliminate Sin and Evil, no, for sadly that is not something that is possible. But it can be contained and the worst of it rooted out now so that any new threats can be dealt with quickly and in an united fashion.” Basically Sirona was getting at a short term sacrifice for a long term gain, or, better put, that the ends justified the means. ”The world can thrive in such a state, trade of goods flows between the lands, should a famine strike Canelux, Parvpora and Onnen can help, for example. No being starves in the streets, ignored, because they don’t have some meaningless silver circles to hand someone for a piece of bread.”

She reached her hands out to either of them. ”Please, join me in seeing this goal through to the end.” She begged looking between Mithras and then a pleading look to her big sister.

Another presence, this one different from all of those here had approached. Another winged one, this bearing an ashen complexion and features tinged with crimson addressed Sirona. This woman called 'Arti' was her elder sister, and it was clear from her words she was none too pleased of what Sirona had wrought. The older sister was the one who answered his question, recalling the thoughts he had grappled with before ascending this mountain. She clarified what Mithras believed down to the last detail, and her last words steeped in anger brought a new perspective to the conflict. Ah yes, this was the very reason why he had chosen to come despite generally not caring what others did, unless it was done within his territory. It was foolish to think only those intentionally targeted would suffer the consequences, for nothing is ever so simple. By this point, a few of the weaker-willed in the crowd had hastened their way to the foot of the mountain, having been warned against interfering thrice. This would be their wisest decision yet, as no one knew what would soon come.

Sirona's response to his question left him dissatisfied. She was aware that despite her best efforts, her goal would ultimately never be reached. Her efforts to create an environment which would foster the absence of evil were nothing that had not already been attempted by countless others, many times over. There would always be those few who feared neither god nor man. And this so called revolution was the equivalent of torching the field to rid the weeds. With time, sin and evil would rise again, regardless of peace or war. And then Sirona would have to repeat these same actions. The smile on his face was gone, and the primal lord looked back with a rare expression of solemnity. "So if it as you have said, your intentions are to cull the wicked in hopes of leaving behind only the worthy to live in the earth. And then you intend to establish a world where there would be no reason for one to act out of sin. A noble goal, but it will be one that is sought in vain. I assure you, should your current revolution succeed–within one to two hundred years' time, things will return to as they once were. There will be peace for a while, and things will indeed flow smoothly. However, over time the people who were left behind will soon forget and return to those old ways. And then you will be forced to repeat the same cycle again, this time with their grandchildren and great-grandchildren."

Again, and again, and again. Until there would perhaps be no people left to cull, no more wicked to judge. Thousands of bloodlines severed before they could even begin. All because of the sins of their would-be progenitors. To Sirona's request that he and her elder sister join her, he said: "If this act of revolution is only a temporary resolution, then I see no reason to oppose nature from taking its course. If you cannot change what already exists, then your efforts will be wasted." In the next moment following his words, he bared his fangs, releasing all the unbridled bloodlust which he had been holding back. Mithras entered into a battle stance and stamped his right foot on the ground, unleashing a powerful earthquake that rocked the mountain. With flashing crimson eyes and floating hair, the expression on the lion-headed lord's face was one of battle-borne ecstasy. He had been growing impatient as they talked, and from the very beginning he had been itching for a fight. He would play the fool if it meant drawing the goddess's attention on himself, leaving others to move forward past the line of winged soldiers who would single-mindedly defend their leader.


"Warriors, hear me and listen well. I will now ascend the mountain to speak with the one whom they call 'Lady Glory', and the one who has done away with the night. If I return to you, then the matter is settled and we will withdraw back to Qala. But if I do not return within the time it takes for the sand in Kitwana's hourglass to run empty, you are to advance and use any means possible to reach the summit and damage the winged statue. If one of you falls in battle, those closest to them must take their orb of darkness and press onward until the statue falls." 

At the base of the mountain, the warriors from Mount Qala had been awaiting their lord's return. When he failed to do so, they heard the rumble from the mountain and started to advance. Warriors of all races and ages from the band that had followed him up from Qala were now storming the mountain like ants swarming an outpost. Battle cries and clashing of steel heralded the incoming tide of Mithras' forces. Their aim was the statue, and nothing else. However if they chose to engage the outsider angels and any other individuals under Sirona's banner, he would not forbid it.