Sunstorm (18/25)
Title: Sunstorm (18/25)
Author: scyllaya
Rating: PG-13
Characters and/or Pairing: Gabriel/Dean, OCs
Spoilers: pagan world AU, so only know who Gabriel is.
Warnings: cursing
Word Count: ~ 2900 (this chapter)
Disclaimer: All names and characters in this story belong to CW/WB and Kripke. I’m making no profit. It’s just for fun! Don’t sue me! =D
Summary: Deandalon was not one of the great gods, there was probably nothing that made him any different from the thousands of lesser gods that walked the mortal world, but the day the sky broke open with dazzling golden light and they all thought the Sun fell to the ground only he stayed behind and dared to go to the burning bright archangel.
AN: Un-betad, sorry for that. Ignore my mistakes please!
The chosen theme song for this fanfiction is Two Steps From Hell’s brilliant piece ‘Operation Sandstorm’.
> Chapter One <
<<< Previous Chapter
Chapter Eighteen
'Where's Ma?' was the very first thing that left Patrick's mouth when Dean stepped into the house and the way the young witch's face crumbled a second later the demigod knew his expression gave the answer even before he had a chance to open his mouth.
'No' Patrick shook his head.
'I'm so sorry' Dean managed. Patrick kept shaking his head in disbelief.
'No, no, no' his breath got erratic in matter of seconds and without another word he stormed across the room and left. Dean took a deep breath as well pushing the heel of his hands into his eyes to make the burning go away.
'Won't you go after him?' Gabriel asked.
'Not yet, he... needs a little space' Dean wanted to say that the kid hated crying in front of him, but not like he had to explain such a thing to Gabriel, it didn't really matter. He finally pulled his hands away from his eyes and his chest got tight all over again when he saw his wrists, the wounds were deep, but the blood already dried, but it was dirty, he was completely dirty after the time he spent chained to that wall, but he knew what the dark thin layer of dust on his arms was dried together with his blood. His hands started to shake. He tried to sweep it off from his hands and forearms even if his wounds flared up with pain again at the hefty movements and how his fingers dug into his skin. He didn't pay attention to Gabriel until his hands were grabbed by him to stop him.
'Dean...'
'She's gone' he said. 'She fell apart... to dust, crumbled to nothing... she... I have to get this off me.'
'Fine, just slow down' Gabriel said, his voice calm and steady. Dean was guided until he sat down to one of the chairs, hands on his legs and he resisted the urge to try and get the dust off his skin. Dust... Creide... her last remains like dirt in his wounds, she did it to get him out of there, but it was for nothing. He was let go, he didn't understand it. Maybe the deal will soon take place or maybe he was just too insignificant to guard as he was no real threat to them after all.
'Dean' he didn't realize that he closed his eyes, but now when he opened them up again he was looking into Gabriel's face. The angel had a piece of wet cloth in his hand and was half-kneeling in front of him, the demigod was too tired to be surprised about it, nor about the way Gabriel started to clean out his wounds with the material. He stayed silent and Gabriel did too for a while. The damp cloth never actually got dirty for a second while the angel worked, but again Gabriel was really good at materializing at this point.
'I wish I could heal you' Gabriel said quietly as one of Dean's wrist was finally clean from dirt and... everything else. The wound red and angry on his skin, but not bleeding anymore.
'You can heal?' the god asked, he didn't know that.
'Much more that just heal, but... not you... I tried before when I thought I accidentally broke your rib, but it doesn't work. You're not human...' he shook his head as his face showed the first traces of distress, maybe even anger. 'Your body is not human, I can't heal you.'
'I'll be fine' Dean answered, it stung when Gabriel moved to the other wrist, but he didn't pull away.
'I need you to tell me everything that happened inside' Gabriel said then.
'Not now' Dean replied right away, seemed like the archangel wanted to argue, so he continued. 'I know I still have things to explain, but...'
'No, it can wait' Gabriel interrupted. 'You lost a close friend.'
'Or maybe two' Dean said and he did not want to think about Puck, not for a second. That bloody sprite... he taught him how to walk, he taught him everything dammit, his name was the first word he ever learnt to say, the one he went to when he was afraid as a child and he would tell him how the spirits were strongest under the stars so in the dark he never has to be afraid... that bloody heartless sprite. He leaned forward until he could slid down from the chair and if Gabriel was surprised he didn't show he just let Dean crawl into his arms.
The angel radiated warmth, Dean felt his presence on his skin like the way the sun warmed him up on a summer day. He was there, he was solid and safe. Gabriel's arms wrapped around him, one hand stroking his back, over his spine slowly and reassuringly, the other hand just held him in place, but every fingertip was something to focus on, something to feel other than what threatened to make his heart bleed out. He let his head rest on the angel's shoulder, burying his face in his neck, breathing in his scent, close like he wanted to be the second he saw him, he had to be now. Just for a moment.
'Dean... I'm sorry.'
'Not your fault' Dean answered.
'No, I... was banished, by the time I could go back there was warding magic on the fort and I couldn't enter' Dean felt how Gabriel took a deep breath. 'I could've tried to tear down the walls but... it would've taken a lot of power to do so... and I... Dean I couldn't risk it... I just couldn't... I'm sorry.'
Dean stayed silent for long moments letting the words sink in entirely.
'Creide died to free me... I didn't want her to do it, I begged her not to do it... I did not want her sacrifice, I don't want yours either.'
Gabriel's arms tightened around him at the words, pulling him even closer than he was before.
'They let me go' Dean added. 'So it was for nothing in the end.'
'It was her choice Dean, no blame falls on you' Gabriel said.
'You don't know everything' the demigod answered.
'I know enough.' Dean doubted that, but he was not ready to speak of it just yet.
'I doesn't matter who's at fault' he said in the end. 'It won't change the fact that she's dead.'
'Who killed her?' Gabriel asked then and the answer stuck in Dean's throat for a moment... uncertainty, hesitance... shame?
'Morrígan' he said. The angel kissed his forehead and said nothing. 'Creide's a pile of dust on a dirty dungeon floor because of what she did to her. All the gods are dead, the fort is full or demons... I don't know what to do... I don't know what is happening, why the bloodshed, the deal, I don't know what Morrígan wanted from Creide she refused to give... I just wanted justice.'
'Justice?' Gabriel asked, Dean didn't see his face, but heard the surprise in his voice clearly. If he started to talk about that now he would have to explain everything.
'I should go to Patrick now' he said instead of answering pulling away from the angel, but Gabriel sealed his lips on his before he could stand up. It was a soft kiss, almost chaste, but the way the angel put his hand on the side of his neck holding him close it felt like more. Gentle reassurance in one simple gesture.
'I will not turn my back on you even if you did things I will not like to learn about' Gabriel said quietly when he drew back from the demigod. 'And I'm sure you have done nothing I will have a right to look down upon.'
Dean just nodded at him, and maybe he even believed him.
He found Patrick sitting down at the stream close to the hill and Dean's hideout. The witch always went there when he was upset and this time was no different. He was watching the quickly running water and the tiny silver fish swimming swiftly. Dean walked closer slowly, not sitting down next to him just yet.
'He could've saved her' Patrick said.
'Who?'
'Gabriel' the young witch snapped. 'He could've gotten inside if he really wanted to, but he didn't... if he...' he fell silent, anger and grief making his voice tremble. Dean sat down now, but stayed silent. 'We helped him... and he just let ye rot there!'
Dean knew Patrick had to be angry at someone, but Gabriel was not the right one to focus all that grievous fury at.
'You can't expect him to sacrifice everything for us' Dean told him.
'Sacrifice what? He's just hiding from his own family and Ma is dead because he doesn't want to see his brothers.'
'You heard about one of his older brothers more than enough... everyone has, you think the other two is better than the Morningstar?' Dean took a deep breath. 'But you have right to be angry at any of us, all of us... what you feel right now? I can't make it better... I can tell you what happened, everything... and than you will know whom to be angry at. You can decide who was at fault yourself...'
'I told her I had enough of her still treating me like a child' Patrick spoke. 'That was the last thing I said to her...'
'And I bet she laughed at you gleefully' Dean said. Patrick nodded jerkily, his face darkening with pain again and he looked like he was fighting back tears, but he didn't cry. He looked back at the stream while taking long deep breaths and when he finally turned to look at Dean his face was determined.
'Tell me what happened' he asked. So Dean did.
It was already deep in the night when Dean finally had time to clean himself up and return to his hideout at the bottom of the hill, he was not surprised of Gabriel waiting for him and was grateful that the angel asked no questions just let him rest, sleep claimed him almost immediately he settled down even if it did not bring peace.
He woke up to a hand stroking his cheek and a voice calling his name, he was tired and not at all well slept but he managed to open his eyes after a while. He saw Gabriel when he could focus finally, the angel was sitting at the edge of Dean's bed instead lying next to him the way he was when Dean fell asleep.
'What is it?' Dean asked.
'Patrick's here' the angel answered and the demigod sat up. 'He wants to speak with you.'
Dean rubbed sleep out of his eyes as he slowly stood up, he didn't bother with boots or a shirt just started walking out in the thin trousers. Patrick was really silent after Dean finished telling him all that happened in the mountains. The god had no idea what might've gone through his head, he let him think everything through.
It was still dark outside and Patrick stood straight and sure a few feet away under the starlit sky. Dean walked closer to him, Gabriel followed closely behind.
'We will take revenge Deandalon' Patrick said as he turned his dark eyes towards Dean. 'My Mother wanted them to choke on their own blood and I will make sure it happens, and ye will join me, ye own that to her.'
'I want that Patrick, believe me' Dean told him. 'But we can't just storm them. Morrígan and Leomas are powerful on their own and they have demons there, we don't know how many. We would be running to our deaths... it doesn't mean I won't do anything' he quickly added. 'I will do what Pillan told me, seek out Taranis, he and the other great gods will...'
'No!' Patrick interrupted. 'We won't just run to some gods, won't bow to them, crawl to ask for their help! This is our home Deandalon, this is our fight, our revenge!'
It felt true as he listened to the words of the young witch, it was true what he said the demigod knew.
'How?' he asked. 'I am willing to fight Patrick, but they will tear us to pieces.'
'I am here too' Gabriel said and Dean turned to look at him. 'Maybe I can't use all my powers, but I am still more than powerful enough to take on any god... and especially demons.'
'They have magic they can use against you' Dean said.
'I know, I didn't expect it before. They won't surprise me a second time.'
'The three of us?' Dean asked, his voice not as resisting as it was before. 'Leomas could have an entire demon legion ready for all we know, Morrígan has warriors she can summon, witches who answer her call. It's like an entire army. We can't do this on our own.'
'I told you Deandalon, this is our home, it's not just us who live here' Patrick said. Dean frowned, but his unasked question was answered when with a heavy breeze Ellil appeared before him. She was glowing in a silver light and Dean realized he never saw her during the night before. Her eyes were clear blue like the summer sky as she floated closer to the demigod.
'This land you welcomed us into has gives us freedom Deandalon' she spoke. 'A home... and we are all ready to stand by your side against your enemies' Dean suspected that she was speaking on behalf of all the spirits of the valley as she was one of the oldest who lived here.
'You are no warriors Ellil, and there is not many of you' Dean told her, he didn't want to remind her that they were also not the strongest not even from all the spirits roaming the earth. The windspirit narrowed her azure eyes on him.
'You know why the gods chain us to their will, why they force us to servitude?' she asked. 'To use our power. To drain us until there is nothing left but shadows of our true beings that crawl away into the dark to slither away to nothing... this is your land and you have not used us... we grew strong... we let the wind, let the rivers carry the word that we found a place to rest, to live without a god using us as pawns... our brothers and sisters heard our whispers and came, one after another. And those who arrived, never left again.'
Dean felt as his eyes widened in surprise at that, new spirits showed up again and again, but they couldn't have all stayed.
'And like I said, you have not been using us Deandalon' Ellil whispered as she drew back from him a little. 'So we grew strong again.'
Her silver light started to darken to deep grey and blue as her form grew bigger before Dean's eyes. Her clear blue eyes darkened to the shade of the storm. And the gentle breeze that surrounded her morphed into the scent of rain as ligthtning blazed in her from the inside and she was wind still, but the wind of a storm.
Branches snapped loudly as treecrowns shifted, Dean turned to look and saw how the old spirits of the oaks climbed out from the deepest forests, their steps slow, but heavy approaching the clearing at the bottom of the hill.
His blood was rushing with adrenaline when the first wolf spirits whipped passed him, followed by one after another, animal spirits all in their ethereal bodies before landing and materializing on the grass and the sharp cliffs of the hill. The wolfs, the foxes, coyotes and wolverines dashed past him, mountain lions stood proudly on heavy stones above them. Giant eagles descended from the sky, and the nigthers of the stream approached as well in their delicate female forms, but with eyes colder than the deepest see.
He stared around in shock, there were too many spirits around them to count immediately and he had no idea so many still lived here, that the ones he didn't see again remained, were only just hidden from his eyes or he did not look close enough. Ellil shifted and thundered like a stormcloud, her eyes telling him that she meant every word she said before. Every spirit of the valley was standing in front of him, most of them looking much larger, darker and stronger then he remembered them to be, but the Moon was still up and spirits were always more powerful in the night and they grew strong in this insignificant little valley where they could rest, where no god used the power they gained from the life and the world surrounding them.
'Here's your own army Dean' Gabriel told him, Patrick stepped closer to stand by his side as well his face still hard with determination.
'Then there will be war' Deandalon said darkly and even if he did not shout, his quiet words washed through the clearing and the spirits reacted as one. The animals howled, shrilled, the ground shook under the roar of the oaks and all elementals. Dean felt how the markings on his skin darkened and spread out, but the first time in his life the magic did not react to his anger, but to the rush of blood he felt under his skin, the call of battle burning in every fiber of his body. There will be war.
Chapter Nineteen >>>
_______________________________________________________________________
Sorry for the late update, I try to do better. But now I got excited as the story got exciting for me. Hope you are excited as well. Leave a comment please :)
Follow me on Twitter: @Scyllaya
Author: scyllaya
Rating: PG-13
Characters and/or Pairing: Gabriel/Dean, OCs
Spoilers: pagan world AU, so only know who Gabriel is.
Warnings: cursing
Word Count: ~ 2900 (this chapter)
Disclaimer: All names and characters in this story belong to CW/WB and Kripke. I’m making no profit. It’s just for fun! Don’t sue me! =D
Summary: Deandalon was not one of the great gods, there was probably nothing that made him any different from the thousands of lesser gods that walked the mortal world, but the day the sky broke open with dazzling golden light and they all thought the Sun fell to the ground only he stayed behind and dared to go to the burning bright archangel.
AN: Un-betad, sorry for that. Ignore my mistakes please!
The chosen theme song for this fanfiction is Two Steps From Hell’s brilliant piece ‘Operation Sandstorm’.
> Chapter One <
<<< Previous Chapter
Chapter Eighteen
'Where's Ma?' was the very first thing that left Patrick's mouth when Dean stepped into the house and the way the young witch's face crumbled a second later the demigod knew his expression gave the answer even before he had a chance to open his mouth.
'No' Patrick shook his head.
'I'm so sorry' Dean managed. Patrick kept shaking his head in disbelief.
'No, no, no' his breath got erratic in matter of seconds and without another word he stormed across the room and left. Dean took a deep breath as well pushing the heel of his hands into his eyes to make the burning go away.
'Won't you go after him?' Gabriel asked.
'Not yet, he... needs a little space' Dean wanted to say that the kid hated crying in front of him, but not like he had to explain such a thing to Gabriel, it didn't really matter. He finally pulled his hands away from his eyes and his chest got tight all over again when he saw his wrists, the wounds were deep, but the blood already dried, but it was dirty, he was completely dirty after the time he spent chained to that wall, but he knew what the dark thin layer of dust on his arms was dried together with his blood. His hands started to shake. He tried to sweep it off from his hands and forearms even if his wounds flared up with pain again at the hefty movements and how his fingers dug into his skin. He didn't pay attention to Gabriel until his hands were grabbed by him to stop him.
'Dean...'
'She's gone' he said. 'She fell apart... to dust, crumbled to nothing... she... I have to get this off me.'
'Fine, just slow down' Gabriel said, his voice calm and steady. Dean was guided until he sat down to one of the chairs, hands on his legs and he resisted the urge to try and get the dust off his skin. Dust... Creide... her last remains like dirt in his wounds, she did it to get him out of there, but it was for nothing. He was let go, he didn't understand it. Maybe the deal will soon take place or maybe he was just too insignificant to guard as he was no real threat to them after all.
'Dean' he didn't realize that he closed his eyes, but now when he opened them up again he was looking into Gabriel's face. The angel had a piece of wet cloth in his hand and was half-kneeling in front of him, the demigod was too tired to be surprised about it, nor about the way Gabriel started to clean out his wounds with the material. He stayed silent and Gabriel did too for a while. The damp cloth never actually got dirty for a second while the angel worked, but again Gabriel was really good at materializing at this point.
'I wish I could heal you' Gabriel said quietly as one of Dean's wrist was finally clean from dirt and... everything else. The wound red and angry on his skin, but not bleeding anymore.
'You can heal?' the god asked, he didn't know that.
'Much more that just heal, but... not you... I tried before when I thought I accidentally broke your rib, but it doesn't work. You're not human...' he shook his head as his face showed the first traces of distress, maybe even anger. 'Your body is not human, I can't heal you.'
'I'll be fine' Dean answered, it stung when Gabriel moved to the other wrist, but he didn't pull away.
'I need you to tell me everything that happened inside' Gabriel said then.
'Not now' Dean replied right away, seemed like the archangel wanted to argue, so he continued. 'I know I still have things to explain, but...'
'No, it can wait' Gabriel interrupted. 'You lost a close friend.'
'Or maybe two' Dean said and he did not want to think about Puck, not for a second. That bloody sprite... he taught him how to walk, he taught him everything dammit, his name was the first word he ever learnt to say, the one he went to when he was afraid as a child and he would tell him how the spirits were strongest under the stars so in the dark he never has to be afraid... that bloody heartless sprite. He leaned forward until he could slid down from the chair and if Gabriel was surprised he didn't show he just let Dean crawl into his arms.
The angel radiated warmth, Dean felt his presence on his skin like the way the sun warmed him up on a summer day. He was there, he was solid and safe. Gabriel's arms wrapped around him, one hand stroking his back, over his spine slowly and reassuringly, the other hand just held him in place, but every fingertip was something to focus on, something to feel other than what threatened to make his heart bleed out. He let his head rest on the angel's shoulder, burying his face in his neck, breathing in his scent, close like he wanted to be the second he saw him, he had to be now. Just for a moment.
'Dean... I'm sorry.'
'Not your fault' Dean answered.
'No, I... was banished, by the time I could go back there was warding magic on the fort and I couldn't enter' Dean felt how Gabriel took a deep breath. 'I could've tried to tear down the walls but... it would've taken a lot of power to do so... and I... Dean I couldn't risk it... I just couldn't... I'm sorry.'
Dean stayed silent for long moments letting the words sink in entirely.
'Creide died to free me... I didn't want her to do it, I begged her not to do it... I did not want her sacrifice, I don't want yours either.'
Gabriel's arms tightened around him at the words, pulling him even closer than he was before.
'They let me go' Dean added. 'So it was for nothing in the end.'
'It was her choice Dean, no blame falls on you' Gabriel said.
'You don't know everything' the demigod answered.
'I know enough.' Dean doubted that, but he was not ready to speak of it just yet.
'I doesn't matter who's at fault' he said in the end. 'It won't change the fact that she's dead.'
'Who killed her?' Gabriel asked then and the answer stuck in Dean's throat for a moment... uncertainty, hesitance... shame?
'Morrígan' he said. The angel kissed his forehead and said nothing. 'Creide's a pile of dust on a dirty dungeon floor because of what she did to her. All the gods are dead, the fort is full or demons... I don't know what to do... I don't know what is happening, why the bloodshed, the deal, I don't know what Morrígan wanted from Creide she refused to give... I just wanted justice.'
'Justice?' Gabriel asked, Dean didn't see his face, but heard the surprise in his voice clearly. If he started to talk about that now he would have to explain everything.
'I should go to Patrick now' he said instead of answering pulling away from the angel, but Gabriel sealed his lips on his before he could stand up. It was a soft kiss, almost chaste, but the way the angel put his hand on the side of his neck holding him close it felt like more. Gentle reassurance in one simple gesture.
'I will not turn my back on you even if you did things I will not like to learn about' Gabriel said quietly when he drew back from the demigod. 'And I'm sure you have done nothing I will have a right to look down upon.'
Dean just nodded at him, and maybe he even believed him.
He found Patrick sitting down at the stream close to the hill and Dean's hideout. The witch always went there when he was upset and this time was no different. He was watching the quickly running water and the tiny silver fish swimming swiftly. Dean walked closer slowly, not sitting down next to him just yet.
'He could've saved her' Patrick said.
'Who?'
'Gabriel' the young witch snapped. 'He could've gotten inside if he really wanted to, but he didn't... if he...' he fell silent, anger and grief making his voice tremble. Dean sat down now, but stayed silent. 'We helped him... and he just let ye rot there!'
Dean knew Patrick had to be angry at someone, but Gabriel was not the right one to focus all that grievous fury at.
'You can't expect him to sacrifice everything for us' Dean told him.
'Sacrifice what? He's just hiding from his own family and Ma is dead because he doesn't want to see his brothers.'
'You heard about one of his older brothers more than enough... everyone has, you think the other two is better than the Morningstar?' Dean took a deep breath. 'But you have right to be angry at any of us, all of us... what you feel right now? I can't make it better... I can tell you what happened, everything... and than you will know whom to be angry at. You can decide who was at fault yourself...'
'I told her I had enough of her still treating me like a child' Patrick spoke. 'That was the last thing I said to her...'
'And I bet she laughed at you gleefully' Dean said. Patrick nodded jerkily, his face darkening with pain again and he looked like he was fighting back tears, but he didn't cry. He looked back at the stream while taking long deep breaths and when he finally turned to look at Dean his face was determined.
'Tell me what happened' he asked. So Dean did.
It was already deep in the night when Dean finally had time to clean himself up and return to his hideout at the bottom of the hill, he was not surprised of Gabriel waiting for him and was grateful that the angel asked no questions just let him rest, sleep claimed him almost immediately he settled down even if it did not bring peace.
He woke up to a hand stroking his cheek and a voice calling his name, he was tired and not at all well slept but he managed to open his eyes after a while. He saw Gabriel when he could focus finally, the angel was sitting at the edge of Dean's bed instead lying next to him the way he was when Dean fell asleep.
'What is it?' Dean asked.
'Patrick's here' the angel answered and the demigod sat up. 'He wants to speak with you.'
Dean rubbed sleep out of his eyes as he slowly stood up, he didn't bother with boots or a shirt just started walking out in the thin trousers. Patrick was really silent after Dean finished telling him all that happened in the mountains. The god had no idea what might've gone through his head, he let him think everything through.
It was still dark outside and Patrick stood straight and sure a few feet away under the starlit sky. Dean walked closer to him, Gabriel followed closely behind.
'We will take revenge Deandalon' Patrick said as he turned his dark eyes towards Dean. 'My Mother wanted them to choke on their own blood and I will make sure it happens, and ye will join me, ye own that to her.'
'I want that Patrick, believe me' Dean told him. 'But we can't just storm them. Morrígan and Leomas are powerful on their own and they have demons there, we don't know how many. We would be running to our deaths... it doesn't mean I won't do anything' he quickly added. 'I will do what Pillan told me, seek out Taranis, he and the other great gods will...'
'No!' Patrick interrupted. 'We won't just run to some gods, won't bow to them, crawl to ask for their help! This is our home Deandalon, this is our fight, our revenge!'
It felt true as he listened to the words of the young witch, it was true what he said the demigod knew.
'How?' he asked. 'I am willing to fight Patrick, but they will tear us to pieces.'
'I am here too' Gabriel said and Dean turned to look at him. 'Maybe I can't use all my powers, but I am still more than powerful enough to take on any god... and especially demons.'
'They have magic they can use against you' Dean said.
'I know, I didn't expect it before. They won't surprise me a second time.'
'The three of us?' Dean asked, his voice not as resisting as it was before. 'Leomas could have an entire demon legion ready for all we know, Morrígan has warriors she can summon, witches who answer her call. It's like an entire army. We can't do this on our own.'
'I told you Deandalon, this is our home, it's not just us who live here' Patrick said. Dean frowned, but his unasked question was answered when with a heavy breeze Ellil appeared before him. She was glowing in a silver light and Dean realized he never saw her during the night before. Her eyes were clear blue like the summer sky as she floated closer to the demigod.
'This land you welcomed us into has gives us freedom Deandalon' she spoke. 'A home... and we are all ready to stand by your side against your enemies' Dean suspected that she was speaking on behalf of all the spirits of the valley as she was one of the oldest who lived here.
'You are no warriors Ellil, and there is not many of you' Dean told her, he didn't want to remind her that they were also not the strongest not even from all the spirits roaming the earth. The windspirit narrowed her azure eyes on him.
'You know why the gods chain us to their will, why they force us to servitude?' she asked. 'To use our power. To drain us until there is nothing left but shadows of our true beings that crawl away into the dark to slither away to nothing... this is your land and you have not used us... we grew strong... we let the wind, let the rivers carry the word that we found a place to rest, to live without a god using us as pawns... our brothers and sisters heard our whispers and came, one after another. And those who arrived, never left again.'
Dean felt as his eyes widened in surprise at that, new spirits showed up again and again, but they couldn't have all stayed.
'And like I said, you have not been using us Deandalon' Ellil whispered as she drew back from him a little. 'So we grew strong again.'
Her silver light started to darken to deep grey and blue as her form grew bigger before Dean's eyes. Her clear blue eyes darkened to the shade of the storm. And the gentle breeze that surrounded her morphed into the scent of rain as ligthtning blazed in her from the inside and she was wind still, but the wind of a storm.
Branches snapped loudly as treecrowns shifted, Dean turned to look and saw how the old spirits of the oaks climbed out from the deepest forests, their steps slow, but heavy approaching the clearing at the bottom of the hill.
His blood was rushing with adrenaline when the first wolf spirits whipped passed him, followed by one after another, animal spirits all in their ethereal bodies before landing and materializing on the grass and the sharp cliffs of the hill. The wolfs, the foxes, coyotes and wolverines dashed past him, mountain lions stood proudly on heavy stones above them. Giant eagles descended from the sky, and the nigthers of the stream approached as well in their delicate female forms, but with eyes colder than the deepest see.
He stared around in shock, there were too many spirits around them to count immediately and he had no idea so many still lived here, that the ones he didn't see again remained, were only just hidden from his eyes or he did not look close enough. Ellil shifted and thundered like a stormcloud, her eyes telling him that she meant every word she said before. Every spirit of the valley was standing in front of him, most of them looking much larger, darker and stronger then he remembered them to be, but the Moon was still up and spirits were always more powerful in the night and they grew strong in this insignificant little valley where they could rest, where no god used the power they gained from the life and the world surrounding them.
'Here's your own army Dean' Gabriel told him, Patrick stepped closer to stand by his side as well his face still hard with determination.
'Then there will be war' Deandalon said darkly and even if he did not shout, his quiet words washed through the clearing and the spirits reacted as one. The animals howled, shrilled, the ground shook under the roar of the oaks and all elementals. Dean felt how the markings on his skin darkened and spread out, but the first time in his life the magic did not react to his anger, but to the rush of blood he felt under his skin, the call of battle burning in every fiber of his body. There will be war.
Chapter Nineteen >>>
_______________________________________________________________________
Sorry for the late update, I try to do better. But now I got excited as the story got exciting for me. Hope you are excited as well. Leave a comment please :)
Follow me on Twitter: @Scyllaya