Caligo heard the young god speak to her but she paid him no mind. She cocked an ear at him in response but that was all. She didn't have an interest in him, she couldn't touch or consume his brilliant light, so he would have no use for her. She was focused entirely on the girl with broken wings. She seemed equally surprised as she was. This time when the young god spoke, she turned slightly to look at him, both her ears forward. Like she had before, she spoke to both of them at once. I'll show you. She stepped towards them, ducking her head and focusing as she projected a memory through the telepathic link.
They were looking through her eyes at what appeared to be a battlefield, immense in size, and incredibly bright. The sun showed brightly overhead, larger than normal, illuminating everything in an almost painful brightness, like snow in wintertime. Around her were people, angels, and beasts alike. Behind them was a dark foreboding fog that followed them forward, threatening to shut out the painful light. In front of them were more angels, hundreds, if not thousands. All wrapped in cloaks of white and gold, with glistening swords, shields and armor. The angels around her wore black and grey, and their equipment wasn't in nearly as good condition, but she sensed their strong fighting spirit. They would rather die than serve the golden angels, just as she would rather die than serve the men beneath her. How she hated men. Her hatred blinded her to all reason.
In an instant, they were rushing forward, her shadow along the ground following next to her. Her luxurious mane and tail were banners of her pride as she led the charge. Next to her on either side were more angels on horses, who like her, despised their servitude towards men. The angels near her she remembered in stark clarity, for they were the ones who had given her and her brethren the opportunity to escape and rebel. Azael was one of them, mounted on a beautiful grey mare a few horses down. Their forces collided with the golden angels in a crash of thunder. There were shouts all around her and she heard the screams of the other war mares as they started the attack.
She attacked a golden angel about to stab a man, her shiny hooves tearing through his armor with ease, feeling him falter beneath her. She felt the angel on her back direct her towards another group, feeling him shift in weight as he reached down with his sword. She felt him come in contact with them, and then straighten, turning to see the golden robes fall to the ground stained red. Her angel called to the other mounted angels, and they pushed forward again, the dark fog following them. They regrouped, though slightly smaller than before and again attacked the golden angels.
The battle went like this for a long time, both sides suffering losses. At first, they had gained the advantage, simply by their surprise attack on the golden angels. They quickly gained ground, the losses to the golden angels quickly outnumbering their own. In no time, they were nearing the gate surrounding their main objective. Victory looked to be in sight, the fog starting to surround and cloud out the sun, casting the world in a strange twilight. There were dead angels and men behind her, they would gather them afterward. For now, they had to continue onward stronger than ever, with their end goal now in sight. Azael and a few others rode with them. Several of her companions had already fallen at the hands of the golden angels and she sought to see that the golden angels paid for their loss.
She had killed several already, as well as aiding in the demise of dozens more. She had survived so far with much more than a few scratches and the occasional cut. The adrenaline rushing through her kept the pain at bay. Likewise, her angel was still fighting as strongly now as they had in the first charge. Together they and the other horsemen gathered their remaining troops for the last push of their campaign. To victory. She and the remaining horses let out fierce roars in unison with the battle cries from the rest of the angels as they made their way to the gate. They had reached the gate, it was only a short way to the temple, and then they would conquer the golden angels for once and for all. They stopped at the gate, the riders dismounting and pushed to open the massive metal doors. And then the tables turned.
Golden angels, who had mostly disappeared, appeared out of nowhere, launching arrows with painful accuracy. Men, horses, beasts, and angels around her dropped like flies, their screams of agony forever haunting. The sun became brighter, dissolving their fog-like dust in the wind as it grew larger. The light clouded out everything and she reared in terror, for the first time in this assault, she was genuinely terrified. The sun consumed her and her troops, its heat and light unbearable and she closed her eyes. In the next moment, she was wrapped in cold air. She opened her eyes to see the white ground beneath her had disappeared and she was falling toward darkness. The angels and creatures that had survived the ambush were there with her, falling into darkness. All around her were screams of horror.
She felt the strength and muscle fade from her limbs, her very bones suddenly feeling very heavy. She watched in horror as she saw her legs shrivel and shrink in size, her firm flesh now thin and taunt like a raisin. She felt her beautiful mane and tail fall out in chunks while the rest of her shriveled. She felt an unrelenting pain in her stomach like she hadn't eaten in days. A piercing pain seared her eyes and she closed them and was horrified when she couldn't do so. They had been taken from her, along with her mane, her tail, her beautiful fur, and her elegant body. She was a monster, an ugly thing, the very thing she had feared to become as her internal wickedness consumed her. The gods had blessed her with beauty and just like that, they took it away. She couldn't close her eyes as the ground raced up to her and met her halfway.
Caligo pulled the memory from the pair and stood there silently looking at them as they regained their bearings. She gave out a quiet sigh, remembering everything as it happened. Waking up in the shell of a body she'd had before, desiring to taste the sweet grass and grain in her mouth, and finding herself unable to eat it. The shock as she found herself suddenly drawn to meat instead of grass. The pain in her stomach the same as it was now, even after her first kill, it hadn't wavered. While the rest of the pain she became accustomed too and hardly noticed after a while, the gnawing pain remained and could never be sated. As was part of her curse.
She turned her attention back to the young angel, seeing her sadness etched in her face. Her face that very well had saved her life. Had she not had the likeness of Azael, she would likely already be dead where she stood. She pinned her ears slightly, also saddened by the memory. Not everyone survived the fall. She dipped her head to look at her. He fought well. He was one of the very last to die and he did so with dignity. Be proud. Though our cause failed, he did not die in vain. She felt tempted to comfort her but didn't move from where she stood.
