Until they, the human enclave known as the House of the Iron Tree moved in. once a small household of invading of half-human fanatical elves, studying some rogue AI of the called the Horned God. Also known as the Horned God of the Steel Tines, something born out of humanity,s Industrial and Silicon Ages, its heyday was during the 21st century and time of the Warped Aura, into the time of the Breaking of the Virtual that led to the Household of the Iron Tree blossoming into a major household. The time of being a nature spirit was past, time to embrace technology and the iron. Pre-iron fae were now rare, while their descendants, learned to cope with it and even become it.
Hence the fae of Iorn Knives. Oops, I mean iron. They sent scouts out, only for the carnivourous tree to drive them back. The tree while a greedy one, was honoroable to a degree. It striked a deal with the House, it would leave them alone, even come to its aid in return for the sacrifices it acquired from using and capturing prisoners of war. Yes, it was indeed vicous. And of course, being left alone. So the enclave marked the tree as an ally, after all if some infernal force or some external threat came along and decimated the forest, all of them would be wiped out. One of the last great forests in this area that sill had old growth from before colonialism. The Olympia forest. Many creatures lived here, the spotted owl was one of course, its guardian spirits growing nice and fat from the energy its totem creature that got from the attention from all the environmentalists in this area.
Back in the late 20th century. Wolves had moved back in, leaving and restoring the pre-colonial ecosystem. Packs of Beaste Incarnates had moved in, among them Fera. The old were animals who had been hiding but now thrived in a future where the population humanity had culled been back.
The angel decimated the Fertile Cresenct of Blood Red. Mwahahahahah. It sat down in the middle of the crescent playing with its food. Its target was not here, but it stayed because it was having too much fun. Pretty shiny angel. It would squish the little humans, playing with their little limbs, dragging them everywhere. Squishing them one by one with its shining index finger. Pressing down their flesh into the dirt, rubbing it, staining the earth red. The earth below, groaned and cried, grieving for the humans who had cared for the land, brought it back from its post-nuclear coma.
The crops that had grown in the ash rich creator were now burnt, but it at least added more nutrients to the ground, but these people in the enclave had cared for it, creating a long lost connection to the land that man itself had now lost. It was insane.
Humanity had lost its connection to the land, but in these days the crescent did. It was cool. And the land itself started to care about them, waking up from a millennia long apathy towards an uncaring human race. And it had rewarded them with rich yields of crops, that endured bad weather and disease and insects. The first humans of the crescent called it a miracle, until the spirit manifested and thanksed them for actually giving a shit for once.
They were hostile at first, but earth spirits are patient and this one was. It manifested at every harvest, using kindness, until the humans calmed down and erected a partnership was it. Not worship but one was of equals, and eventually became friends. So the earth weeped, as the angel above it played.
Yanking out crops, using it as toothpicks, rolling in the dirt. Picking up humans, squeezing them slowly between thumb and index, watching the organs ooze out, and then sticking the remains in its tongue, I mean mouth, rejoicing in the bitter sensations. Heaven was nothing but empty hollow bliss.
The few remaining elementals, it grabbed, dousing the heat with its angelic saliva. A sharp moment of heat quickly overcome by wetness. Angels had no saliva, no body fluids to speak off, but it micked the humans out of curiousity. This spirit might have been a powerhouse but it was still relavitvelty young, ignorant to the ways of the world, unlike its brethren who had been alive since the beginning of creation.
Beautiful disgusting creation, that its elders looked down upon, aghast at finding their once perfect creation, now spoiled and ruined, corrupted with filth. But this young angel rejoiced in its sensations and imperfections,much to the horror of its elders. Debate was making it a fallen, but it was doing its job and it was a harsh judgement, I mean punishment for an innocent. Education, not punishment, they argued.
The little one played on, ignorant of its elders bickering over its fate. It picked up what seemed to be some sort of hover vehicle device, zooming it through the air, having fun with it, catching the humans within with its mouth. And then threw it back and forth through its hands. Bouncing it back and forth as though it was a rubber ball, now created artificially with nanites.
Finally, the earth had enough. It was tired of its people being abused, it manifested. Trying to trap the auric see through creature by entombing it in dirt, trying to yank it down, burying it alive. Usually a spirit such as it was not capable of such actions, but the bloodspill of its beloved humans had made it capable of such, the energy from the deaths and the spilled blood feeding it.
The earth gripped it, creating earthen cuffs through it and around the points of light that made up what was supposed to be its feet. The earth tugged, the angel was shocked, dropping the hover vehicle, the humans within, some of them were still alive, only thanks to the top of the art restraints. But barely.
It tugged, the angel was now buried up to its knees. The ones from the Up Above, watched, judging it. It would only intervene if things got lethal. it started flapped its shining wings, pulling from the earth, the earth drank in more of the blood and anguish and suffering that sinked into it, and pulled back. Some of the stone that pulled up from the crescent, levitated and crashed together to the angel. Smashing it, in screamed in pain, while it wasn,t fully material, the earth,s hostility behind its actions, hurt it. Hovering threateningly, it hovered around the angel. It floated before its head, holding its threat over it literally. It was crazy. Another piece of stone was yanked from the cresecent, some rocks tumbled off, creating a protective formation over the hover vehicle. A harmless turtle shell.
It drank in the burnt remains of the crop, the energy wafting from it. Words started to etch itself on the floating rocks, using the vernacular and slang of the enclave humans.
“begone from here, fucking angel. You who destroyed my land, my city, my people. Get the fuck out of here, and never come back. Or I,ll
THE ROCKS FLOATING ABOVE ITS HEAD, CRUBMLED TOGETHER. CREAating a rockfall over the angel,s head. The earth that engulfed it, entombed it to around its neck. It was then picked by an angry earth elemental who roared in its ear, creating a toothy dirt smile, it was tossed out miles away from the enclave.
Still in shock, the young angel was tossed, not beliving what just happened. It had never faced such existannce before, I mean resistance. The humans were pushovers, tank shots just tickled, fire elemental tanks only stung. And the two wanted that had served the city had fled in the chaos and into the night. It didn,t even unfurl its wings. And landed in the ground with an uncermonial thump creating a hundreds feet ditch in the process, its light was now stained with dirt. When it had once levitated above the ground, a few feet above the ground, it had now been beaten by the very element that it had shunned and eschewed.
The earth went back to rest, the dirt fell, it,s elemental body now falling apart, it was exhausted. It hadn,t spent such energy ever, it had defended its land but at great cost. So many dead, exhausted it wanted to went back to sleep to let the the survivors rebuild.
The rocks floated itself back to the crescent fortification, shifting itself back to place, the rocks heated, became lava, and melted gluing itself back into the fortress. The earth drank in more of the suffering, drinking in the life force for the work it had to in restoring the area. The dying soon passed over becoming ghosts that was distraught, over the carnage but glad ithe that the angle was gone. The words were still etched on the rocks when it melted itself back into place.
The elemental body was now a pile of rocks and minerals. The earth shifted itself into a buildings, new shelters for the survivors. With makeshift earthen beds and stools, and holes that were supposed to serve as toilets, and firepits and hearths with a chimney. And a vague hole in the wall that was supposed to serve as a makeshift doorway, it etched words in the furniture detailing what it supposed to before.
The dead were then buried, to serve as nourishment for the earth. First it started out as by creating a hole below the dead, the dirt shifting there into a ditch, and then the soil collapsed over the dead, creating a shallow burial ditch, finally a small stub of dirt popped up with the deceased,s name on it.
And finally, the walls etched themselves.
“Honor me, ye humans for I, the very ground that you trod upon and grow your food on, have saved ye from the one that attacked above. Built ye shelters and buried ye dead. I am now exhausted and shall sleep, till the land and nourish me with blood and bones, the remains of the dead, in case I needed again…’
Prickles stood awestruck on the cliff, having watched the entire display versus the earth and the angel. Awestruck. He had emerged from the tunnel in the when the display happened, he had waited for the perfect time, to do it. An attack meant security was weak, and merely watched the whole thing.
He had arched his neck, when the angel had been flung into the horizon. Prickles could have sworn that he had seen the nature with a shocked expression on its face, it was a now a gleaming shining mess in the distance.
Well, it was one direction he wasn,t going, uh-huh. No way. He had escaped one fortress and had no wish to become trapped…up there. And if he died, well, back to the recyclers for him, and his next life was bound to be hell, deserters had very harsh bitchy next lives, and were then killed again to serve afresh.
And if had even ripped out the tag from his soul, he become a desperate hollow, eating other spirits in an desperate attempt to fill whole again.
Neither options felt very good to him, his only option was to find some hag or doctor to remove the tag from his spirit while keeping him whole. Such an option was expensive, and having a debt hang over your head, well, it wasn,t very appealing but neither was the other options.
So he trudged on, not trusting. I mean trusting his hedgehog instincts to keep safe out in this wilderness, out here it seemed like scrub, and dead farmland. He was still in the crater. And he trusted his instincts to tell him what was edible and what wasn,t.
He trusted his stomach and right now some grubs and worms seemed very appetizing. For now, a simple life as a giant hedgehog seemed like a good life, away from a military regiment and slurs from a more human populace then he though he had more of a claim, after all unlike the humans who lived Single lives, he had spent a good handful in service to the Enclave.
Time to retire in his beady hedgehog eyes, he started digging and never looked back. He had his maps that he stole from the library and archives just when the alarms started ringing. The forest looked good, if not he would try the swarmlands, being underground should save him from the nanites, if want to. I mean, if not. Then he try his luck in the south. The black city, the silent bleeding tower,s nope, after that
Angel, he wanted avoid all Outer Eldrtich.
And kept digging.