Ignite: The Archangels Chronicles

Beautifully colored paper lanterns were strung between two vine covered poles on either side of a cobble stone path. As they stepped through the portal more of their new destination became visible. A large clearing in the middle of the forest appeared. Thick white bolts of cloth were strung up between enormous pine trees. The light of the full moon shone down on three of the most mesmerizing women Azreal had ever seen. Each in a different stage of her life. Maiden, Mother, Crone.

The maiden had long hair that flowed freely to her waist in thick scarlet waves against her loosely fitted lilac dress. Cl.u.s.ters of dark freckles resembled smatterings of paint against her flawless porcelain skin. Heavy auburn lashes framed jade green eyes, the perfect picture of youthfulness. The witch representing the mother, she was the true warrior. The one Azreal really needed to worry about. The statuesque women, dr.a.p.ed in a long cream shift that wrapped tightly around her luscious curves, had a strong, proud stance that of a powerful women in her prime. Small tight braids laced with golden thread cast a shimmering glow across her high ebony cheekbones, and to Azreal's shock, matched her molten gold eyes. Even the Crone was beautiful, with quicksilver hair and olive skin. The only signs of age lightly crinkled around the outer corners of her ocean colored eyes.

Azreal expected her to be wearing some sort of tribal robes, instead she wore a long tunic with a stunning blood red amulet perched between her b.r.e.a.s.ts.

"Thank you for having us," Azreal inclined her head to the three women.

"You forced your way into our home and then thank us as if you were invited?" The mother retorted, not returning the gesture.

Maven stepped forward, "I brought them here."

The crone hissed, her neck snapping toward the child, "Dead things don't talk! You have put us all in great peril!" And snapped her fingers. Ruby red nails glinting in the moons light.

Maven immediately dropped, her knees giving out a sickening crunch as she hit the hard packed earth. Her small face scrunched up in pain, her hands digging into her straw colored hair as if she were trying to keep her head from exploding.

Azreal's eyes began to glow, "Is this how you treat your people? As lambs for the slaughter?"

"You know nothing of what you speak!" The mother spit at Azreal.

The Maiden's eyes turned milky white as she stood frozen, staring blankly ahead of her. The Maiden was having a vision to which everyone was too busy squabbling amongst themselves to notice.

Azreal put up a protective shield around Maven. The girl slumped forward in relief while Azreal ran a cooling breeze over the child.

The crone looked to Azreal, "You have no idea what you have done. They will take half of our coven in place of this one girl." Her words laced with venom, her eyes turning with new found darkness.

Belial stepped forward, giving the witches a small bow of respect before asking, "Why are you letting them? Why are you not fighting back?"

The mother clicked her tongue, "You truly know nothing." A heavy accent dripped from her words.

To which Minx replied casually, "then why don't you explain why a full coven of witches, powerful enough to have a representation of each of the three faced goddess, but you are unable to protect yourselves from a few vampires?"

"How dare you speak to us that way!" The crone spit.

The mother was about to say or do something by the way her whole body seemed to tense, but before she could, the Madien dropped, her c.h.e.s.t slamming up and down against the cold hard ground, a seizure taking full control of her body.

The mother crouched, grabbing the girl and enveloping her in a tight embrace as if she could stop the seizure through sheer will alone. Azreal couldn't make out the words the mother was chanting. But the crone pushed at the mother, saying "Stop! You must not interfere with her vision!"

The mother shoved her back with an elbow, "I am not going to risk her life over this! Can't you see it hurts her more each vision she has? Every time she becomes closer and closer to the spirit world."

The portal waivered and shook. The ground rocking in a small tremor.

Azreal drew her blade, "What was that?!" She exclaimed.

Maven clung to Minx arm and begged him, "We must turn back! We have to get out!"

Minx was as confused as the rest of us, "What was that, little bird?" He said over his shoulder, but maven only tugged him back towards what now looked like endless fog, chanting the words that would suck them back into the alleyway.

"No!" The crone snapped "We are going to finish this now!"

The light of the full moon turned from shimmering rays to a dull sinister fog, Azreal threw a protective hand out to the others, "We do not wish to fight you!" She shouted to the women. The wind now whipping her obsidian hair about her face like wisps of smoke.

The Maiden was prostrate on the ground with The Mother on her knees by her side.

They needed these witches for information and it seemed The Crone wanted none of it. With a muttered curse under her breath, Azreal shouted to the others, "Open the portal now!"

Maven was sweating, entranced, she said nothing; eyes pressed shut as she concentrated on the spell. The wind picked up and pushing at them with invisible hands.

"Give us Maven, and we might let you live!" The Crone screamed, lighting forked through the air and a bolt slammed into the earth dangerously close to Azreal.

Belial tried to step in front of her, but she hissed unfurling her wings, forcing him back to protect the others. Feeling the pressure change in the air as the witch made her next attack. Azreal looked The Crone in the eye and brought a hand up just in time for the next bolt that would have struck Azreal right on the top of her head. Instead the lightening seemed to be absorbed into her. It took only a second, but it felt like years to Azreal. A burning like nothing she had ever felt before filled her body. She would have screamed if the lightning hadn't scorched her vocal cords. The shock of energy buckled her knees, fists clenched in the dirt. The portal was opening and she could feel herself being dragged backwards. lifting up her wings, blacker than the night, she lunged at the witches, her hands outstretched. Instead of attacking them, she grabbed The mother who was cradling The Maiden, pushing off the ground, she flew up and let the portal suck them all back to the city of Alavar.

As The Crone realize what she had done, she loosed a shrill cry into the air. But it was too late, they were already in the portals snare. The air squeezed from Azreal's lungs as she fell through the other side, hitting the cobble stones with a thud and loosing her grip on the witches as she slid into the hard slimy brick of a no named pubs back wall.