That Which is Given
As silently as the High Angel before it, Judgement whispered echoes of its past to Orthael. There had been many who had made similar vows in a time long before, when the Dead had arisen in such numbers that the darkness had very much threatened to overwhelm the light. There had been pitched battles of epic proportions. Hordes of the Lesser Dead had flowed over walls of stone. Defenders clad in leather and steel had fired weapons on the scale of armies and sieges at an enemy that stretched as far as the eye could see.
Judgement had been there. Already ancient, of course, but fresh from fires that had forged it anew for that war. Itself a formidable weapon, but destined to be only one part of a larger system.
They had been desperate. There seemed to be no end to the enemy's numbers; their trust in the All-Consumer had wavered. In a moment of weakness the greatest of their clergy reached for power that transcended the mortal vale and with it created a most singularly terrible weapon.
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Inspired by (sequel to):
Malika stalked away, caring little if the Orthael followed. She had no care for her own life anymore…Grim Purpose
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Beautifully written! I love this bit of backstory!