A glimpse on a possible side of Cherosh.
In order to protect those he loves, he would even go to war. If it would mean his own death, he'd gladly accept it – but what if he is caught in a storm he may never will escape again?
It had been an easy decision before. The raging war had threatened to come closer, too close to the place he and the ones he seeked to protect were living. And it hadn't taken long for the drums of war, with their deep, merciless rythm, to meet the nephilim's heartbeat. He would fight. For the sake of the ones he loved.
He had taken the long ride on his demonic cat, an ever-energetic beast of about twelve feet length from the muzzle to the tip of its bony tail, to clash right into the core of the fight deciding anything. Blood already had softened the ground, had turned it into a swamp of death. But that didn't keep him from going on, either.
Right into the eye of the storm.
Panting, the blade resting by his side, he had gotten off his demon cat. No way he would exhaust his loyal companion any more. "You wait here... I'll go and destroy the reason for all of this misery." The cat made a soft, complaining sound, fear having taken over, showing in flattened ears and the restlessly twitching tail. "No worries..."
His heart was pounding like mad as he approached the glowing center of the storm. A storm causing war. What magic is this? It feels... familiar. Almost like... He couldn't even end his thought as something grasped him, tightening around his chest like a mercilessly constricting snake. And... then he knew.
He knew who had summoned this storm to rip apart the peaceful hearts of anyone around it and make them into mindless warriors.
"I see you followed my invitation..." The ever-mocking, never changing voice. How Cherosh loathed it.
"A shame you are not obedient, but very naughty indeed." The voice came closer. His own anger was growing likewise.
"Cherosh... you are such an idiot. Why did you even come here?" The laughing now was right next to his ear.
He always managed to turn anything into a nightmare, just by touching it – as it seemed, that was. Cherosh of course knew better. It wasn't enough to just touch something to make it go bad. But Viper had a way to do it that easily it made Cherosh go insane.
"I will extinct anything dear to you... given you won't break the spell. But you know the price, don't you?" Viper had whispered close to Cherosh's ear again, and now, the demon's tongue crawled along the rim with a tantalizingly slow pace.
Chuckling, the demon let go of Cherosh. "You wouldn't dare to, right, my miserable nephilim? This storm has consumed so many souls already. And according to the spell's demands, you will have to walk in it... for like an eternity?" Laughing, the demon paced around the twitching nephilim. "No, you won't go that far. You are a weakling, and fear to be alone. Am I not right, Cherosh? You fear nothing more than being alone."
Viper was right.
In all of his life, Cherosh had feared nothing more than the moment he would be alone again. After having lost almost all of his family, having had brushes with death too often already to not fear it any longer. Death... final extinction of his life. That was something he feared almost as much as being alone.
But if he wanted to save the ones he loved, he would have to do it.
There was no other way to end the eternally raging storm. "You will pay for this one day, Viper. I will hunt you down, you can fucking bet on that." The demon's eyes widened, and he jumped away from the nephilim. "No... no you won't..." Viper whispered.
But it was too late.
Cherosh would, in fact, allow the storm to enter his body and would put up with the consequences. And there was no way he would be stopped now.
Storm from ancient times,
Invade my body and my mind,
Leave nothing behind of your raging,
Enter me fully and become calm inside of me.
I swear on my blood, life, soul and body
That your raging will come to an end,
That you will be cleansed inside of me,
While my body becomes lifeless.
Enter me, storm of despair and war.
Enter me now.
Viper was thrown to the ground, not believing his eyes as the dark winds ripped into Cherosh's body, surely causing the nephilim agony without end. But there was not even a scream. Only the pained expression gave away what strain the storm put on the nephilim.
It was over much too soon.
The nephilim's motionless body fell to the ground, and before the demon could do anything, Cherosh's demon cat had come and growled, protectively crouching over its master.
But inside the nephilim, the storm violently howled. Trapped, sure, but no longer threatening anyone.