The Champion: The Legend of the White Magnolia

(("I love good and pleasure, I hate evil and pain, I want to be happy and I am not mistaken in believing, that people, angels and even demons have those same inclinations."
- Nicolas Malebrance))

Demons and Angels have always fought each other, ever since the first sun rose up, they have sought to kill one another. In every single history book, they will be mentioned shedding the opposites blood. It is inevitable.

But also, in such history books, a single person is mentioned. A Hero. A Savior. A Champion.


2. Chapter 1 - Adrian




Chapter 1.





The dark clouds were gather, he noticed as he looked up at the sky. It was going to rain soon.

He stretched his dark-red wings and sat still on the tall mast of a merchant ship that was headed towards Dockmoore.

He couldn't enter the city yet, not until his side had won the rights to it, otherwise he would get killed for sinning. Although that was what they did, wasn't it? Demons were sinners, they were born sinners and they'd die as sinners.

But this stupid city, Dockmoore, was apparently a holy and peaceful place for both Demons and Angels.

He rolled his eyes as he thought it stupid. The Demons would easily overrule the Angels and take this city! But no, honor and such still mattered to his superiors.

The Humans on the boat hadn't noticed him yet, although it didn't matter; most Humans had already chosen a side. The clever side, if you asked him. Of course there were the stupid kinds of people, that had decided to choose the enemy's side.

His victorious grin turned into a disgusted scowl, as he thought of the Angels, and cursed his superiors for not putting him on the battlefield. Apparently, he wasn't buff enough or big enough for war and fighting, as his thinner and more agile body was better for scouting and sneaking around.

As the ship got dangerously close to the city, he began to worry. Even though he was the last to follow rules, he grew nervous as his head got filled with images of what the others would do to him if he entered the city without permission.

It had to be the fastest he had ever moved, as he suddenly jumped off of the mast, which then caused the boat to tilt a bit and the crew started panicking as they feared a great wave had caught them. Demons easily forgot their own strength.

He hovered silently above the calm water and kept a watching eye on the city of Dockmoore, as the merchant ship finally docked and began unloading.

He glared at the Humans working the docks with disgust in his eyes. He found them all so ugly, so repulsive. The only ones he found just slightly attractive was always fake or edited persons in magazines or in the entertainment that Humans called “movies” and “TV-shows”. He had never seen one in real life, that was even considerably worth looking at.

Their skins had such a strange color, that even varied, just like the Angels. Their hair too, straight or curly, dark or bright, can't they just decide?

Their anatomy was strange too, or at least their feet and hands. They looked just like the Angels, with ten fingers and ten toes. He looked at his own hands, each with four fingers, and his feet, each with 2 toes.

And their eyes, just like some angels, they have pupils, where to a Demons eyes were nothing but a red color, although the hues of it varied.

And to top it all off, they had no wings, no tails, no horns nor halos! Savages!

Still outside of the city's borders, he landed on a rock standing above the waters. Into it had the name of the city been carved along with its date of origin, but the letters had worn off after so many years and the original date had been lost, and not many bothered reading that far back into history, nor would anyone bother re-writing it in the stone.

From some ships, refugees from the war were being guided from the deck to the land.

He could just smell them even this far away, and he felt disgusted by both their smells and looks. The Human race should just go extinct, but they'd need volunteers for the wars and slaves for working what they couldn't do themselves.

He spread his wings before fluttering them silently and took off from the rock and flew to the edge of the clouds. He should get back to work, though the battle in Landhall wasn't going to be as bloody and glorious as the one outside of Dockmoore, he had to do his duty.

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