Fallen From The Heavens

Golden grass stretched endlessly, rustling with an invisible breath. The sky overhead rippled with clouds, and the wind was not just cold—it was watching.

Kazin stood silent behind them. Oni and Rain faced forward, where three ancient lion statues marked the boundary of battle.

"You have entered a sacred field," Kazin finally said, his voice like stone being carved. "This is the first of the Four Plains. You do not belong here. Prove otherwise."

The statues cracked.

A shadow swept the ground. A gust of unnatural wind tore across the field, and a thunderous cry shattered the silence.

From the clouds above, a figure dove—a black Pegasus, wings wide like razors, its hide charred as if it had flown through fire. Glowing runes swirled around its hooves, and its eyes were silver storms.

"Its wings cloak it," Kazin warned. "Once it takes flight, your eyes mean nothing. Trust your instincts… or die."

The Pegasus vanished mid-air.

Oni took a deep breath. He lowered into a crouch, letting his chest expand and fall—Predator's Inhale—a breath stolen from the lions themselves.

"Rain," Oni growled. "Above, left arc. Seven o'clock."

Rain's eyes locked upward. No sight. Just instinct.

He drew his sword—the uzuka shimmered faintly in response to his will.

"Uzuka… Caeruleum Atrum," he whispered.

(Magic and sharpness.)

He slashed blindly upward—steel met flesh.

CLANG!

The black Pegasus reappeared in a burst of sparks, screaming in fury. Rain had slashed across its side, cutting through the veil.

"You're not invisible anymore," Rain hissed.

The Pegasus reared midair, hooves glowing white-hot. It slammed the ground—BOOM!

A rune-explosion blasted Rain back ten feet, flipping him twice through the air. He hit the dirt, choking on blood.

Oni didn't move. He lowered his hand and pressed two fingers to the grass—

"Mother Nature."

Vines erupted upward like spears, entangling the Pegasus's back legs, yanking it to earth. It bucked wildly, smashing its wings, and a blast of magic incinerated the vines.

Oni charged. His Mark of the Beast glowed, crimson searing through his chest.

But the Pegasus was faster.

It rammed Oni with its full weight—runes crackled—and Oni was launched across the field like a thrown bone, crashing through two rocks and skidding across the dirt, unconscious for a moment.

Rain stood. Spitting blood. His body trembled.

"Uzuka… Purpureum."

(Strength and sharpness.)

The sword pulsed deep violet. He roared and lunged, slashing at the Pegasus as it turned to finish Oni.Steel met wing.The Pegasus howled. Blood poured from the wound, but it didn't flee—it shrieked, and mist spiraled around it like a cocoon.

"It's healing," Rain realized.

Oni staggered to his feet.

"Not for long," he growled. "Cristilian."

Crimson crystals erupted around the Pegasus—trapping it in a jagged prison, cutting off the spell mid-chant.

The Pegasus thrashed, smashing the walls of its cage.

"NOW!" Oni roared.

Rain nodded. "Uzuka… Aurantium!"

(Strength and weight.)

He threw the sword like a meteor.

The glowing orange blade smashed into the Pegasus's ribs with a boom, cracking bones.

The cage shattered from the force.

The Pegasus—bleeding, wild-eyed—rose on trembling legs. Its hooves lit once more. The sky above began to swirl. A massive spell was coming.

Oni slammed his palm to the ground—

"Abyssal Tide!"

Black, inky water exploded from the dirt, wrapping around the beast's limbs, dragging it backward. The water clung to its body, slowing it, draining its strength. It screeched.

But even now—it moved.

Magic surged one last time.

Oni raised his hand.

"Provocation."

An illusion of himself flickered behind the Pegasus. It lunged with a desperate charge—passing through the illusion.

That was its final mistake.

Oni stepped into the side, summoning his final spell:

"Crimson Arrow."

The red spike formed instantly—and Oni drove it through the beast's skull.

Silence.

The Pegasus collapsed, breath leaving its body in one last whisper.

Rain retrieved his uzuka from the grass. The blade was flickering—between Ater and Purpureum—as if still honoring the power it had just struck down.

He knelt by the beast's head.

"You were faster than the storm, and your wings carried death. You earned your place in the wind."

"Uzuka, requiesce cum honore."

(Rest with honor.)

Oni placed a hand on its broken skull. His voice, low:

"Another step in the climb. You were sacred. You are remembered."

The wind stilled.

The sky cleared for a moment—and a deep growl rumbled in the distance.

Kazin approached from behind, his arms crossed.

"You bled. You broke. But you did not beg."

He looked toward the horizon. A shadow loomed there—stone wings, crackling skin.

"The plains have accepted your offering. But they are not satisfied. Your next test comes with teeth carved from the mountains."

A Gargoyle.

Rain sheathed his uzuka. He glanced at Oni, bruised and limping, yet grinning through the pain.

"Let's not die just yet," Rain said.

Oni nodded. "Not before we finish the hunt."

The wind had calmed, but silence weighed more heavily than thunder. Blood darkened the golden grass where Oni had fallen. Rain sat nearby, his uzuka resting on his lap, the blade flickering softly in and out of color like a dying flame.

Kazin stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching the two of them breathe.

"You survived," he said. "But survival is only half the lesson."

Rain winced as he adjusted his broken shoulder. "Only half…? You mean there's worse than that?"

Kazin didn't smile. He stepped toward Oni, who sat upright, but trembling—his chest still marked by the faint crimson glow of the Mark of the Beast, pulsing slower now.

Kazin knelt before him.

"Do you feel it?" he asked.

Oni nodded slowly. His hand hovered just above his chest. "Like it's… alive. Something's circling inside me. Heavy. Cold. And it's not mine."

"It's not," Kazin replied. "But it can be."

Rain looked over. "What do you mean?"

Kazin turned his gaze toward the body of the Pegasus, still intact, its wings curled inward as if in mourning.

"When a demon survives the First Trial, the beast they slay does not die. It submits."

He looked back at Oni.

"The Pegasus has chosen you, Oni. Its power—its flight, its speed, even its invisibility—are yours now. But it's not a gift. It's a cost."

Oni blinked. "What kind of cost?"

Kazin's voice dropped low.

"If you fully merge, you may gain wings of night, sight beyond visibility, speed that cracks air. But the more you rely on it, the more it carves itself into your soul. You'll think like it. Feel like it. You may stop knowing where you end and the Pegasus begins."

Rain's eyes narrowed. "So it's either become part beast… or learn to control it without becoming it."

Kazin nodded.

"Exactly. Some demons choose the full transformation. They take the form of the creature—temporarily or permanently. Others master the essence—invoking only the abilities. But you must choose carefully."

He turned to Oni again.

"You carry the Mark of the Beast for a reason. It is not a title. It is a doorway. The more you open it, the more nature rewrites you."

Oni stared at the dead Pegasus. The wind had stopped breathing. The moment felt sacred, dangerous.

"Can I try?" Oni whispered.

Kazin stood. "Only in stillness. Begin now."

Oni pressed his palm to his chest. The Mark pulsed softly.

He closed his eyes.

He felt it: the wind again, but this time inside him. Hooves on the clouds. Feathers like blades. Runes whispering along invisible skin. Pain. Power. Flight.

The Pegasus wasn't angry. It was watching.

Oni exhaled slowly—and the moment he did, two black wisps stretched from his back, flickering like shadow wings before dissolving into smoke.

His eyes opened—briefly glowing silver like the beast's.

"I can feel it," he said. "Not fully. But… it's there."

Rain stared. "That was… badass."

Kazin said nothing at first. Then finally:

"Your trial isn't over. It has only changed shape. Learn to ride the storm inside you… or be trampled by it."

The sun had not risen, yet the sky glowed faintly violet, as if the realm itself was watching.

Kazin had led them to the edge of the plains—near the mouth of a canyon, where shadows sliced the light. The wind here was sharper. More alive.

Rain stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the open flatlands below. Oni crouched beside him, sweat trailing down his back.

"I feel faster," Oni muttered, "but it's not me doing it. It's the beast. Like it's pushing from the inside."

Kazin stood behind them with arms folded. "Good. Now use it. But don't let it use

The first test was speed.

Kazin pointed toward a jagged boulder half a mile away. "Get there in ten seconds."

Rain blinked. "That's impossible."

Kazin looked at Oni. "Not if the beast inside you believes it's already there."

Oni nodded, breathing deeply. His chest rose—and the Mark of the Beast pulsed once, glowing dim silver.

He ran.

The wind followed him.

With every stride, his feet barely touched the ground. His muscles blurred with Pegasus speed—wings of smoke briefly flickered behind his back. In seven seconds, he touched the boulder. Then vanished.

Rain stood up, wide-eyed. "He disappeared."

"He moved faster than your eyes could follow," Kazin said. "But more than that… he became unseen. That is the Pegasus's true gift."

Later that night, under a fire made from whispering black wood, Kazin sat across from the boys. The Mark on Oni's chest was glowing softly in the firelight.

"Do either of you know what the Mark of the Beast really is?" he asked.

Rain leaned back. "A birthright?"

"No. A wound."

They looked up.

"The Mark is not a blessing. It is a scar left by the first creature to reject the laws of man and god alike. A brand carved from rebellion itself. Only those who are destined to devour nature and still remain themselves are given the chance to carry it."

Oni looked down at his chest. "But why me?"

"Because unlike Rain, who learns through honor and structure, you learn through survival. You absorb. You adapt. You mimic. And that—that is what makes you dangerous enough to earn nature's trust."

He looked at Rain and added:

"That's why you both are here. One to become the sword. The other to become the storm."

Rain stood up, stretched, and looked into the distance where the sky began to shift colors.

"So what now?"

Kazin stood as well.

"Now you train until your legs break. Then you run again. The next creature waits. And it is not patient."

The sky cracked faintly with lightning.

Rain grinned and whispered:

"Uzuka… Purpureum."

Oni smirked.

The trials were only beginning. But now, one of them carried wings—and the other carried the will to fly.

The next day Rain is standing outside deep in thought.

The wind cut through the plains like razors, whispering across the scars left from the Pegasus fight. Rain stood alone near a ring of stone pillars, each one blackened by time and weather.

Oni was sleeping nearby, wings flickering slightly in his dreams—still adjusting to his beast-gift. Kazin sat in meditation, watching from afar but saying nothing.

Rain held his uzuka in both hands.

The blade pulsed lightly, waiting.

"You've changed," Rain muttered. "So I should too."

He had learned the sword's ten colors. He had combined two before. But something Kazin said echoed in his mind:

"A sword doesn't grow stronger. Its wielder just learns to hear it better."

Rain closed his eyes.

"Uzuka… Ater. Caeruleum. Viride."

(Magic. Sharpness. Size.)

The blade vibrated violently. A green glow layered over a blue core, then cracked with jagged black lines. The wind around him bent. His legs buckled.

But he held on.

He swung once—and the sword extended mid-strike, warping like a serpent.

The stone pillar cracked in half before the blade even made contact.

"The air split?" Rain whispered. "No… the pressure did."

The magic had turned the blade into a shockwave generator. It wasn't just cutting—it was collapsing the air around the edge.

His arms trembled from the strain. A trickle of blood slipped from his nose.

But he smiled.

"Again."

Rain lowered his stance, channeling his energy the way Kazin had taught them to cast spells.

He reached into the earth. Called upon the vines.

"Mother Nature…"

But instead of casting from his palm, he let the spell surge through the sword.

The uzuka pulsed black.

CRACK.

The vines erupted outward from the blade's tip, sharper than before, coiling around another pillar with whiplike precision.

"It's not just a sword," he whispered. "It's a staff. A channel."

Rain stepped back, now soaked with sweat. He stared at his sword—then grinned like a lunatic.

"Let's push it."

He whispered again:

"Aurantium." (Strength and weight)

Swing. A crater.

"Caesioviride." (Sharpness and size)

Swing. A tree was sliced at its roots, clean through.

"Dark Blue." (Magic and sharpness)

Swing. A blade of crystal energy slashed the air like a crescent wave.

He began switching color after every attack, cycling on the move. His body was still behind his instincts, but his mind was starting to predict each form's cost, each advantage. Each recoil.

Then he dropped to one knee, gasping.

"Too much…" he coughed. "But I'm close."

Behind him, Kazin finally rose and stepped forward.

"What you're doing shouldn't be possible for a boy your age."

Rain stood, wiped blood from his mouth, and replied:

"Yeah? Then why do I feel like it's mine?"

Kazin narrowed his eyes, then allowed a faint smirk.

"Because that sword doesn't want to be held by a man. It wants to be tested by a storm. Keep pushing."

He turned to leave but paused.

"Just don't forget—every time you use three, it demands more than magic. It demands memory. Be careful what you burn to keep your blade lit."

As Rain leaned on the sword, something flickered in his head—a flash of a battlefield littered with swords… all glowing like Uzuka. And in the center, a boy that looked just like him… but older. Scarred. Laughing through blood.

Then it was gone.

He looked down at Uzuka.

"You've seen something I haven't, huh?"

The sword pulsed once—purple and blue at the same time.