Artiya'il had been somewhat busy of late, after the Goddess Angela had been stabbed there had been a great deal of work to do, and her own talents had been required throughout Revaliir - no one had asked it of her, no one had called upon her, no one needed to. Despite not being of this world Artiya'il felt the same pull here as she had on Earth; there was still the drag upon her soul when others required her services, and she still felt the same compulsion to serve anyone that she could - if they were deserving of her talents of course. 

With the death of… well… Death, had come a fresh wave of grief, so strong that it had knocked the Archangel back a step or two and had taken her a moment to gather her wits about her. In fact her mother and father had helped her overcome that last wave, appearing for a brief moment to bolster their eldest daughter, before vanishing from her side once more. It was never wise for them all to be together for too long, even less wise for Raegul and Lucifer to be visible in general, best they remain hidden lest Gabriel or Uriel (and to a lesser extent Raphael) feel their presence. 

Now back at full strength Artiya'il sought out the one job that had plagued her mind for some time now - the Goddess Shiloh. She had refrained from her duties, at the behest of the Goddess, when last they had met, and had in fact helped the Goddess save a city, with others involvement. However Arti had never forgotten the almost overwhelming wave of grief that inhabited the Goddess' heart. She had promised to remove that excess grief, when the time was right, and now was that time. Dalanesca was gone, Shiloh could do no more for the Goddess now, and the rest of the world would not benefit from her wallowing in grief. Not the amount she harboured at least. 

The downpour did not bother the Archangel, Artiya'il had always enjoyed the rain, it was one of the few things that actually gave the fairly apathetic Angel joy. She approached from the air until the lightning became too dangerous, descending gracefully and tucking her wings against her back as she began to walk the well trodden path. She took her time, allowing her eyes to take in all of the sights as she headed towards the entrance. While she never complained or fussed about the fact that she was losing her eyesight, Arti was acutely aware that soon enough she would be as blind as her mother. It was an inevitability that she had always been ready for, she had known it was coming and had never worried about it, she wouldn't grieve the loss of her sight despite what others may believe… no she would just take in what she could and enjoy the sights while she could still enjoy them. It was, quite frankly, that simple. 

She came through the main entrance, taking a moment to dry herself off, she had no intention of dragging her wet carcass through the Goddess' halls, that would have been impolite and she was a guest here. She barely noticed the world on the white slab of a door, Artiya'il was drawn forward by something far stronger than her own will, called by the grief of the Goddess she had come to meet. Stepping into the room she took in the details, not dismissing them as such but rather focussed on the task at hand. She placed her hand upon the button on the pedestal and listened as the voice spoke to her. As it reeled off the rooms she stopped it as it mentioned the Chapel. 
"Take me there," She said simply, waiting for her automaton escort to arrive and following after it as it moved. The Chapel seemed the most appropriate place for an Angel to meet with a God and it was certainly the type of place that Arti herself was familiar with.

As her escort left her Artiya'il stood still and allowed the tranquility of her surroundings fill her own soul, quieting that niggling pull within her chest for a moment. She had not shown much emotion, where their expulsion from Heaven had been concerned, her mother had judged and had exacted punishment accordingly, as such Cataclysm had been called forth, and the Heavenly Host had been expelled from Heaven, and Earth, and the Universe it inhabited. Artiya'il had agreed with her mother's judgement, had agreed with her mother calling upon Cataclysm, but now, standing in this Chapel she suddenly felt that loss in her life. It was odd, she'd never really cared either way. 
Shaking her head Arti closed her eyes and called out. "It's time Lady Shiloh. I promised to leave you alone until you work was done, they are, there is no more that you can do and that grief you cling to no longer serves you. There is no point in hiding, or asking me to leave, I will be drawn to you until you let me complete my task. I mean no offense of course, it is merely time for me to aid you as you have aided others."

It was times like these where she would become painfully aware of something missing inside of her. While everyone mourned Dalanesca's death and gave her a proper final farewell, Shiloh could only stand around and follow the motions. The loss hit Angela especially hard, as Life and Death had been friends for ages through thick and thin. Everyone else felt varying degrees of regret or remorse, but Shiloh had felt nothing. It wasn't because she had resentment. Everybody knew it wasn't Dalanesca who stabbed Angela and caused the world to suffer. Normally even the most detached person felt a fleeting hint of sadness, but she couldn't even conjure that much. Just a somber, unsettling hollowness she had to cover up for their sake than hers. With Death leaving an empty seat and Life finally back and flourishing, it would appear that the worst was over. However as Angela and she knew, this was just the beginning. The opening act was over, and soon they'd be facing the main event. The idea of something capable of possessing a deity was a terrifying thing.

Shiloh was lying down on the floor of the Chapel in the very center looking up at the ceiling. It was a very particular spot–the very place she had landed when Antikythera first appeared. It was the spot she would be in when she wanted to think. Antikythera didn't have visitors often, and her heightened alertness still left over from when Dalanesca's days as a divine puppet told her someone had come in. She continued to lay in her current position as footsteps echoed against the stone and a familiar voice called out to her. "It's time Lady Shiloh. I promised to leave you alone until your work was done, they are, there is no more that you can do and that grief you cling to no longer serves you. There is no point in hiding, or asking me to leave, I will be drawn to you until you let me complete my task. I mean no offense of course, it is merely time for me to aid you as you have aided others." So she came after all. Doggedly persistent, for an angel. Sounded like the type who never forgot anything and would stop at nothing to achieve an objective. Normally she'd feel slightly peeved for the invasion of privacy but right now she was too numb to care.

"…You're here." There was disappointment and a bit of exasperation loaded into those two words. "You angels really don't give up, do you?" Sitting up, she looked over at Artiya'il. "So what exactly are you planning to do here? The last person who gave me help found themselves thrown off guard because they weren't expecting just how much they'd be handling." Shiloh wasn't going to part with her consumed shadows so easily, and if she believed the other party wasn't capable of taking it she wouldn't give them a single shred. You don't hand volatile reagents over to an untrained individual or let someone with no training fly an airship.

The Archangel turned her head slightly, storm grey eyes fixing upon the woman she had come to see. Quite why the Goddess was lying on the floor she did not know, but it was also of no concern to her, Artiya'il had a job to do and that was all there was to it. As the woman spoke a small, extremely rare smile settled upon Arti's face - there was none of the smug satisfaction or sarcasm that her siblings usually encountered, instead the smile was genuine. "I cannot speak for the Angels of this realm, in fact I dare say I could not speak for my siblings either, but I speak for myself when I say that once I know that there is someone suffering unnecessarily I will not rest until I have relieved them of it." She replied, stepping towards the Goddess as Shiloh sat up to face her. 

"I've come to do what I was born to do. Remove the grief that hangs over you, threatening to derail you. You have clung to it for far too long my Lady, you've come to see it as your burden to bear. In fact I believe you have come to see it as your rock in some ways, something familiar that you do not quite dare relinquish, despite how exhausted it makes you feel." Artiya'il stopped and stood in front of the woman she had come to serve, hands clasped behind her back as she looked at Shiloh. 
"You do not know me from Adam, and as I am not native to this world you do not know who I am nor what I have done in the past. So I shall give you a brief overview, so that I might alleviate some of your worries. Not that it matters, I will be forever a step behind you until you let me complete my task." She snorted, somewhat amused at the thought of following Shiloh across the world as the Goddess tried to evade her. 

"Where I am from I am known as the Angel of Grief. I can give and take grief from others in equal measure, though I tend to do the latter more than I do the former. I am neutral, my role, as it has been since my birth, is to transfer the surplus grief of others from them into myself so that they might find relief and move on with their lives. In times of war I travel to all of those who have been affected; allowing them to grieve for loved ones for a time before taking their grief into myself so that they can live their lives unhindered by it. I have been performing such a task across this world since the Goddess of Death originally stabbed the Goddess of Life, leaving you with your grief as you told me you required it."  

Her eyes fixed on Shiloh as she watched the Goddess closely. "You do not require it now my Lady, the time has come to shed your grief so that you can be strong in other ways. It is your disadvantage now, it no longer serves you despite what you may believe. Trust one who can see it's affects more plainly than I can even see you. I am capable, it is what I was born to do." Arti ran her fingers through her hair and spread her wings, focussing Shiloh's attention to the red that bled into the white of both her hair and her feathers. "With each transfer I consume the grief of others, it may hurt me but I have known nothing else and I have taken on an entire planet's grief at one time all at once. The physical representations you see are mere indicators of my body tainting because of it, but soon enough I will see none of this. I am impartial, removing grief from those of all walks of life, no matter how great it is it is my duty to take it into myself so that others can be stronger. And you take on too much, it is time someone told you no and I am here to do just that." 

She held out her hand to the Goddess and smiled, somewhat smugly, at the woman. "Now. There shall be no more distractions. Are you ready?"

By some stroke of luck, Shiloh had in fact met one of the angel's kin unknowingly. Whether or not that mention of 'Adam' was a figure of speech or of an actual person, the reference flew over her head. Hearing that she was taking on more than she should wasn't news to her; countless others had tried and failed to convince Shiloh to think otherwise. When she responded by asking them to step up to the challenge, almost every one backed down further proving her point. Artiya'il's summary of her prior occupation was very straightforward, but gave little to no information for the deity to glean on the angel's potential tendencies. Her actions, mannerisms, and words were all wrapped up in her role as the 'angel of grief' masking what Shiloh really wanted to know. Everyone, even the most dedicated and dutifully trained had quirks and emotions that didn't fit within their defined titles. These seemingly insignificant details were a goldmine for obtaining insight into the inner workings of a person. And despite the angel's determined efforts to fulfill her purpose, Shiloh wasn't going to give up what she had worked so hard to gain. 

As the angel stretched out her hand, the deity looked at it for a few moments before a sly grin appeared. Standing on her own, Shiloh straightened her clothes as she replied. "Your self-introduction might be enough to pass, but you'll need to convince them that you're worth trusting first." Standing back several paces, their surroundings began to warp and change shape. The Chapel's interior gave way to an enclosed space with no obstructions, walls, or exit as an inky blackness began to bleed out from the deity's shadow. From her left arm a portion of the shadows coalesced into the form of a sword while more began to creep up and around her left shoulder. Pointing the blade at Artiya'il, the deity now noticeably lacking in emotion opened with this statement: "Now, let's have a go at each other. We'll be assessing you from this point onward; be sure to give it your all and give us a good show." 

Artiya’il watched the Goddess carefully. It was quite clear that the Deity had no intention of letting Arti complete her task, Shiloh had held onto her grief for a long time, Arti could feel the maturity of it, or at least some of it. The Goddess was used to holding onto it, used to keeping it close to her chest, to grasping onto it like some sort of lifeline. She’d seen it before, countless times in fact, including with her own family.

That thought reminded her of another visit she needed to make, and she made a mental note to drop in on her estranged Uncle Sammael – the man carried grief with him like a trophy, much like the Goddess Shiloh did, like a banner to show where he had been, as though no one would recognise them without it hanging over their heads.

She almost rolled her eyes at that thought, given her Uncle was the former Angel of Death he really should have known better, sadly her mother’s twin was as stubborn as the rest of the family (herself included) and he would not be told.

An eyebrow raised curiously at the woman’s smile, and Arti tilted her head slightly to one side. Nothing moved but her eyes when Shiloh mentioned them, her grey eyes flicking from the Goddess’s face to the changing surroundings. Others might have been surprised, or frightened, or even apprehensive… but not Arti. In fact the Archangel mirrored the Deity’s lack of emotion, her gaze fixing upon Shiloh once more.

”As you wish.” She replied, bowing slightly to the Goddess as she took a step back from her. Silently the Archangel summoned forth her shield and her sword, the former held before her chest, the latter hanging by her side. It had been some time since the Archangel had been called into battle quite in this sort of fashion, with her ever failing eyesight she preferred not to get involved, though the last time she and the Goddess had met they had been in battle together then as well… what a funny coincidence.

There was no warning, not this time, no shout to the Goddess for her to close her eyes. Arti moved, flicking her sword around to slam the pommel of it onto the floor with a resounding clang, as she did so a burst of light shot from the end of her sword, blindingly bright. At the same time she summoned a holy shield to surround herself, moulding it like armour to protect herself. And then she moved, sword raised, swinging at the Goddess, her shield still held in defence – with it’s own defences, moulding the air around it so that if the Goddess struck it her own blade should rebound before it hit the metal (it should be enough to cause the Goddess to falter, or at least that was Arti’s intention).

The Goddess was testing the Angel and Arti would happily oblige. If this is what it took then so be it… Shiloh would learn fairly swiftly that Artiya’il could not be scared away so easily.


Reference for Arti’s shield and sword

The angel did not disappoint from the very start of the fight. With no fanfare, monologues, or any unnecessary actions Artiya'il prepared her defenses and took the first swing. Her procedure was like a formula–blind the enemy to conceal your position, take advantage of the momentary disorientation to gain ground, then attack while defending against being countered. Just like the angel, she too had ways of knowing how to fight without relying on sight. The shadows spreading out from her weren't just for show, they acted like a network which fed her information on the relative position of Artiya'il in real time. With aura sight she knew exactly where the angel was from her life signature, despite the noise from the release of magical energy. With so much light being cast in the room, Shiloh was able to quickly sink into the shadows on the floor narrowly avoiding Artiya'il's slash. Appearing from a different patch, she poured out a massive amount of darkness in on single burst–swarms of shadowy limbs erupting from the floor. Hundreds of spectral hands flailed, grasping and clawing in the attempt to take hold of the angel.

Shiloh's stance changed from its sword-wielding posture to one that was much lower to the ground, with her grip on the shadow blade construct more akin to a dagger. With the wind beneath her feet, she rocketed forward zigzagging to throw off potential tracking of her movements. She made her first strike at Artiya'il, curving it to go around the shield she was holding. It was possible she would still be parried, but getting rid of that pesky shield was her first priority. It would be one less thing she had to keep track of. To make things 'fair', the deity chose to hold back from using any abilities giving her a divine advantage. Her misses would be misses, and any hits she failed to avoid wouldn't deflect. Stasis would not be used to buy time in combat, forcing her to rely entirely on her own awareness and judgment.

Artiya'il didn't question or hesitate when she made the challenge. She didn't shy away from taking obstacles head-on and didn't let false piety get in the way, and she liked that. In the same circumstances, the usual reaction for most would be apprehension towards fighting a deity. Persistence was one thing, but she wanted to see just how resilient the angel was. Taking someone in to only have them leave out of disillusionment or frustration would be a waste of time in the deity's line of work. If they wanted to work with her they must be willing to stay, no matter how boring or difficult things would get.

Arti was not a natural fighter; she was decent enough and could hold her own, but she had not been trained as a warrior, not like the majority of her family… not that this made her any less dangerous.

Grief. It was as much her duty as it was her burden, but it was also the gift she carried with her. She took grief from others so that they might better themselves, it was her ultimate defense. The centuries of collecting grief had left her with quite the reserve, though she had only been forced to use it against someone once before. She had no intention of wielding it against the Goddess however, not unless she was asked to.

The Goddess dodged her attack, as the Archangel had suspected she might, vanishing into the shadows before utilising them. Arti felt the subtle shift in the air as the arms began to swarm at her, grasping for her legs. Her barrier felt them seconds before they grabbed her and the Angel deftly leapt into the air, wings spread wide as she swept them down with one powerful movement to push herself up and away from the floor. She would not be caught so easily.

Wings clapped together before her, propelling her backwards as she landed gracefully on the ground once more, shield still held in front of her for defense. The Goddess moved swiftly and her eyes could not keep up – but every feather in her wings could feel the shifting movement of the air as Shiloh used the wind to her advantage. As the Goddess aimed around her shield Arti magically switched her shield and blade from one hand to the other, swinging her blade up to meet the shadowy dagger while she thrust her shield at the Goddess’ body to push her away.

There weren’t many occasions where Artiya’il would have said she enjoyed herself but this was one of the few, the Goddess was challenging her in a way she had not been challenged for a centuries and she had every intention of showing the woman that she would not back down so easily. Stamping her foot on the floor she summoned spectral blades from the floor beneath her, calling them upwards towards Shiloh.

Even with Shiloh's well-practiced movement patterns, somehow the angel still managed to sense which way to dodge. She must be using a method aside from sight–both physical and otherwise that allowed her to stay a few steps ahead. Artiya'il had a barrier as the deity suspected, and those wings were proving a greater advantage than expected. For someone who was naturally bound to the ground, aerial enemies were the worst kind. Then, that train of thought gave Shiloh an idea… When Shiloh struck around the angel's shield, in the next second she was parried with a sword where the shield used to be. Realizing what Artiya'il had done, a grin crept across the deity's face. Using a spell normally for summoning armaments to switch the offhand with the main, a clever move. It was subtle actions like these that got her blood racing instead of showy blasts of magic. The switch had to be a split-second decision, making it all the better. 

Shiloh's senses could feel magic in the air as Artiya'il cast her spell and she cast one of her own on herself. Getting close meant leaving herself open to an attack, but you couldn't win without taking some sort of risk. Taking a crack at guessing what the angel would expect, instead of applying a protection spell Shiloh chose something a little different. As soon as the spectral blades hit, a massive burst of retaliatory fire blasted the area. Her armor did nothing to block the damage from the blades, but this was all part of the plan. While the angel was in the air, suddenly an invisible overwhelming force came over Artiya'il, threatening to drag her to the ground. The more one struggled the harder it would be to resist as Shiloh intended to close the distance between them. If the goddess couldn't reach the angel, then she would bring the angel to her. Casting again, ten whip-like plants burst from below with the intent of restraining Artiya'il as soon as they could latch on. Shiloh then sank into the shadows again to reemerge as close to her as possible, this time armed with a rose whip. Her aim was still to rid the angel of her shield to open a small window of opportunity for close combat.

Distraction was the name of the game this time, as the goddess intended to throw as many variables as possible at Artiya'il to weaken her focus while Shiloh sent the whip's thorny tip to strike at the shield-bearing hand. And if that didn't work, the pull could be used in reverse to fling herself at the angel. The more damage she took, the faster Shiloh would be able to build up momentum for a particularly dangerous artifact combination.

Her blades hit, but as soon as they did Artiya’il knew that the Goddess had allowed them to. The Archangel was not arrogant enough to believe that she had even the slightest chance of actually beating Shiloh, even in a fair fight Arti was not a natural combatant. If Shiloh had wanted to avoid her blades she would have, allowing the hit meant that she had something else up her sleeve… and the effect was immediate.
The blast wave was fierce and knocked Arti from her stance. Immediately she gathered her wings around herself, shielding her body and taking the majority of the damage through them – she could cope with that, it was nothing new, there was always an ache in her wings, one that she had never admitted to aloud to anyone – so what was a little more pain?

The blast knocked her back which had left her vulnerable to the other force which grabbed at her. She grunted as she felt it pull her down and hold her in place, she did not struggle, more than a little aware that writhing would cause the grip to tighten – she would have to think of other ways out of this, and she had a few up her sleeve. She felt the plants lash themselves around her – her protective shield keeping them a mere inch from actually touching her, though they still had a decent enough grip regardless.
And then it came, the whip shot out to knock her shield from her hand and she could do nothing about that, but she could do something else.

As her shield fell from her hand and skidded away Arti reacted, calling upon her talents to do several things simultaneously. Drawing upon her ability to drain grief from a person she drained the room of light, gathering it about her body until she positively glowed like a star, she cast sunburst, sunstrike, gathering them to her wings while another round of spectral blades were summoned to tear away the vines before teleporting herself above and behind the Goddess to rid herself of the invisible force that had weighed her down.
The moment Arti reappeared she flicked her wings open, casting out her spells with the help of a concussive blast, creating a shock wave of light designed to flood the room (further blinding the Goddess if she could) while also bombarding the woman with the light spells and the sheer force of her blast.

She beat her wings, weaving the wind created by them around her into a tornado that she threw at Shiloh, sword still in hand she dove at the Goddess. It was risky to get close but it didn’t matter.

'So, what do you think?' As the fight went on Shiloh was watching along with the shadows in the center of her mind. 'With how she's holding up, even if it kills her she probably won't leave. But even if she makes herself a permanent fixture in the Machinarium, I won't hand you over to her without your consent.' The hordes of humanoid shapes beside her psyche's mental projection stared out through her physical eyes in silence. '…Hm. Is that so? Well, as long as it's what you want I won't say no. She's a lot like me, but with a slightly different mindset. I think you'll get along.' Seconds stretched into perceived hours as the speed of the processes within the mind sometimes made it as if time came to a standstill. Turning back to look at the endless masses of shadows she had gathered over the years, Shiloh said with a remorseful face: 'I'll miss you.'

We will miss you too.

The angel broke free from gravity's pull and flooded the room with light elemental spells to disorient her sight and hearing. And to finish, Artiya'il sent a whirling maelstrom her way. The tension had been building up while they fought, and now it was reaching its breaking point. Before it went, Shiloh cast the Keeper's Secret upon her person and breathed in deeply. The spell was deflected, followed by an audible crack. Combining a Renaissance pendant with her Tenebris amulet, the deity unleashed a burst of lightning from her body as the winds died out. Then, silence. "Lucky you–they gave you a pass." The magic died out and they were standing in the Chapel again with Shiloh sitting in one of the pews unarmed. "I didn't think they'd agree to it, but you managed to convince them. Some of them were just about ready to reach absolution too. If there's one thing I had to point out, it would be your sincerity. Sincerity tends to be a tie-breaker in most situations." Shifting her position to lean against the pew's back, she continued. "In other words, we'll yield. I won't be giving you all of them, but that's more than enough." She made sure to emphasize the fact that they were willing to go. In a rare moment of cooperation, she allowed the angel to perform her duty.