ALL NOVEL The Skies Unleashed
The sun had just begun its ascent over the desert when Hala stood at the peak of the Lazurite Pyramid, surveying the horizon with a cold intensity, her six wings flapped languidly behind her.
Instead of feathers, her left wing was composed of swirling, golden sand dust. The grains shifted and swirled in the air, constantly in motion, giving the wings an ethereal, almost stormy quality. The sand dust particles caught the light faintly, giving the wing a sense of mystery and raw, untamed energy, as if it could dissolve into a desert storm at any moment.
On the right side, the white wing is made of gleaming lazurite crystal. The crystals are smooth, sharp-edged, and reflective, creating a striking contrast to the black sand dust. The lazurite shines with a deep blue hue beneath its outer surface, and the light reflects off the various facets and curves of the crystal, giving the wing a pristine, almost celestial glow. This balance of light and dark, of sand and crystal, created a harmonious duality in Hala's form.
Far in the distance, she could see the Holy Ruberios Empire's army approaching like a great, dark tide. Thousands of soldiers, Temple Knights, marched under the banner of the Holy Church, their golden standards waving in the air. Their target was clear: the Lazurite Kingdom itself.
"Hmm, the Holy Empire never changes, regardless of the world," she murmured, her voice as icy as her expression, cold and stoic as she observed the scene.
Her advisors had already prepared the defenses of the kingdom, but Hala, with a steely determination, knew this battle was hers to fight alone. Her magic was beyond anything her soldiers could comprehend, and today, the world would witness it in its most entire form.
The Count of Ruberios, in his arrogance, marched with his army. His belief in the superiority of his forces, bolstered by the Holy Church's divine magic, led him to think they would be enough to subjugate the Lazurite Kingdom. He thought numbers and faith would carry the day.
On the ground, the Count of Ruberios rode at the head of his army, his armor gleaming in the morning light. His face was twisted with cruel satisfaction, a cruel joy evident in his eyes as he watched the Lazurite Pyramid grow nearer in the distance. He had heard of Hala's power from those disgusting abominations to his god calling themselves envoys, of the magic tech that her kingdom wielded, but he dismissed them as the ravings of fearful minds. The Holy Church had granted him divine protection—there was no way a mere desert queen could challenge the might of his army.
"Today we crush the witch," the Count sneered to his second-in-command, a Temple Knight in heavy armor. "We'll kill this wretched heathen and burn her kingdom to the ground in our God Luminous' honor!"
The knight nodded, though his expression held a hint of unease as he glanced at the distant pyramid. "We've heard strange reports, my lord. They say her magic is unlike anything we've encountered. Perhaps we should—"
"Silence," the Count snapped, his eyes narrowing. "She's just one woman. A powerful sorceress, perhaps, but nothing we can't handle. With the Church's blessing, no force in the world can stop us."
The second-in-command looked at the Count dubiously. "But her army—"
"Are nothing more than evolved monsters. As People of the Holy Church of Luminous, our duty is to annihilate these abominations!"
But as the Count turned his attention back to the Lazurite Pyramid, he saw something that made his blood run cold.
Far above the desert sands, a figure hovered in the sky, wings spread wide, her body glowing with an ethereal light. Even from this distance, the power radiating from her was unmistakable.
"Is that…" the knight began, but the Count's words caught in his throat.
It was the Empress of the Lazurite Kingdom.
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Hovering in the sky, high above the advancing army, Hala surveyed the thousands of soldiers marching toward her kingdom. The sight might have struck fear into a lesser ruler, but she felt only a cold, calm resolve. These men—these fools—believed their numbers and faith would protect them. But they had made a grave mistake. They had provoked the wrath of a cosmic force beyond their understanding.
Her six wings flared behind her, sand swirling in elegant arcs while the crystal feathers reflected the sunlight like blades of light. The air around her shimmered with dark blue and amber energy, the very fabric of the world seeming to bend to her will.
"This ends now," Hala whispered to herself, her voice carried by the winds of the desert.
With a single motion, she raised her hands toward the sky, her fingers weaving through the air like an artist crafting a masterpiece. The sky above darkened as storm clouds gathered at her command, swirling ominously in response to her cosmic power.
"Let the Desert be your graves."
Below, the Count's army faltered as the unnatural storm began to form overhead. The soldiers glanced nervously at the heavens, their faith beginning to waver as the full weight of Hala's power became apparent. The Temple Knights, sensing the divine magic in the air, tried to rally their troops, raising their shields and calling out prayers to their god.
But Hala was far beyond their reach.
With a sudden, violent motion, she thrust her hands forward, and the storm descended upon the army like a hammer of the gods. Indigo lightning crackled through the sky, striking with pinpoint precision. Each bolt was a lance of cosmic energy, tearing through the ranks of soldiers as if they were nothing but paper. The holy shields of the Temple Knights shattered under the onslaught, their prayers silenced by the roar of the storm.
Hala hovered above, her wings keeping her aloft as she unleashed wave after wave of destructive power. The ground below began to quake as the sand itself responded to her command. Great dunes rose from the earth, swallowing entire battalions in a matter of moments, their screams drowned out by the roar of the shifting desert.
The soldiers tried to fight back, but their arrows and spears were useless against her. Those who dared to raise their weapons found them turning to dust before they even reached her, disintegrating in the cosmic energy that surrounded her like an impenetrable barrier.
The Count of Ruberios, now watching in horror as his army was torn apart, could hardly believe his eyes. "What… what is she?!" he shouted, panic creeping into his voice.
But it was too late for questions.
As the battle raged below, Hala's wings flared again, their crystalline feathers cutting through the air like blades of light. She looked down at the Count's army, now reduced to chaos, and knew that she could end this whenever she wished. But she wanted them to see her power, to know the price of challenging the Lazurite Kingdom.
With a flick of her wrist, the sand below began to swirl in violent tornadoes, lifting entire groups of soldiers into the air and hurling them across the battlefield. The desert was alive with her magic, responding to her every thought, every movement.
Hala's voice echoed across the battlefield, carried by the wind. "You thought your faith would protect you. You thought your numbers would overwhelm me. But I am not some mortal queen you can challenge. I am the cosmos, the earth, and the heavens. And you… you are nothing."
The Temple Knights, desperate now, raised their swords and charged at her with renewed fury. Their weapons glowed with holy light as they called upon their god to strike her down. But Hala simply raised her hand, and the air itself seemed to rebel against them. The knights froze in place, their weapons falling from their hands as they struggled to breathe.
Hala descended slightly, hovering just above them, her six wings shimmering with cosmic energy. "Your god cannot save you," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with terrible finality.
With a snap of her fingers, the very essence of the knights was torn from their bodies. Their divine energy, which they had thought made them invincible, was absorbed by Hala, adding to her already overwhelming power. The knights fell to the ground, lifeless, their armor clattering in the sand.
The Count of Ruberios, now alone and terrified, stumbled back from the carnage, his face pale as death. His army was gone—his faith shattered. He had believed the Holy Church's blessing would protect him, but now he realized the truth. There was no protection from Hala. There was no salvation.
Hala descended further, her wings folding gracefully behind her as she landed lightly on the ground before him. The cosmic energy that surrounded her crackled with intensity, the air thick with the smell of ozone and sand. She looked at the Count, her eyes cold and merciless.
"You thought you could challenge me," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "You thought you could take what is mine."
The Count fell to his knees, his body trembling. "Please… mercy… I was only following the Church's orders… they will—"
"Silence," Hala snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You have no right to speak of mercy."
With a single motion, she reached out, and the ground beneath the Count opened up. A pillar of sand shot up from the earth, wrapping around him like a serpent, binding him in place. The Count struggled, but it was futile. He was trapped.
Hala stepped forward, her eyes glowing brighter as she raised her hand. "You will be forgotten. Your empire will crumble, and your name will be erased from history. This is the price you pay for daring to stand against me."
With that, she closed her fist, and the sand constricted around the Count, crushing him in an instant. His body was reduced to dust, scattered by the very desert he had thought to conquer. There was no scream, no final plea for mercy—just the quiet whisper of the wind carrying away the last remnants of his existence.