He looked out upon a forsaken land and turned his face away. Ilarian was lost to shadow and redemption was far from them; it seemed this land couldn’t overcome its demons. Demons had plagued Ilarain since the dawn of time, but he had offered salvation less than five hundred years ago… yet, Ilarian had cursed itself once again.
    “Michael, I can no longer forsake this land.”
    “Lord King, your rule has been established, but these people refuse to succumb.”
    “They have been offered no choice.” Ainmire replied. “The agencies I established have betrayed me; they hide the truth from the people for their own gain.”
    “Tear down the establishments and build new ones.” Michael suggested.
    “No. That would not serve my purposes.” He said with conviction. “Michael,”
    “I am your servant, Lord King.”
    “Demons are terrorizing Ilarian. Build up your army and protect my people… until the appointed time.”
    Michael bowed low and left swiftly.

East of Shane
    “Braedon, why are we here? Demons live here.”
    “Truly, and I’m going to capture one.”
    “For what purpose?” but the question went unanswered as Braedon hurried ahead.
    The two boys made their way through the thick of Shaladarn Forest—the enchanted forest as it was known—when they heard strange noises coming from ahead. They continued forward and came upon a clearing where two strange creatures circled each other. The boys hid beneath the shadows of the trees and watched from safety.
    One creature was obviously of demonic descent. The scantily clothed demon stunk of ash and smoke. Her slender body was tattooed with pictures of death and sin. Her bristled skin was deep scarlet and scorched black in places, and on her boney back, where her wings used to be, were bloodied stumps. Long stained horns protruded from her forehead and her chapped mouth was full of devil fangs. Sleek black hair framed the demon’s long face and fell over her muscle-traced body. She had sinister yellow eyes with pinpoint pupils; being a creature of dark, the demon wasn’t accustomed to daylight. She glanced longingly at the bat wings that twitched on the forest floor, and then hissed at her opponent.
    He was beautiful. The boys had never seen a creature like him… or perhaps it was a she. The person was so featureless yet so fair, that the gender was difficult to decide. He was very tall—at least seven feet—but moved lightly as though with the breeze. His face was indistinguishable between man and woman, but it was peace and his blue eyes were lightning. His skin radiated light, his tresses were of gold, and glowing dragonfly wings came out of his back. He was the embodiment of grace. He was dressed in smooth white leather and glistening chain mail, in his right hand he held a long sword; the blade was red with blood.
    “Show me mercy, Michael, that’s what your king would do.” The demon pleaded.
    “There is no mercy for traitors.” Michael’s rich voice rang out.
    “But you know me, I am your friend.” She smiled.
    “No longer, Jacquelyn.”
    “We could be again.” Jacquelyn’s four jointed legs shuffled over the grass as she took a step toward Michael.
    “I am not so easily tempted.” He replied.
    “You’re strong, Michael, but they” she stared directly at the boys, “are not so vigilant.”
    Michael’s skin glowed more brightly then. “Go back to the pit, vile demon.”
    The demon screeched and pounced at Michael. He was swift. Michael spun the sword in his hand and thrust it forward. The demon, in mid-sprint, skewered herself on the blade! Unlike the bloody heap of wings still lying on the ground, after a few moments of agony, the demon evaporated in black smoke. Michael took a rag from his belt and cleaned the blood from his sword before sheathing it. He looked at where boys stood hiding.
    When they saw his sharp eyes, they fled. Terror fueled the boys energy as they ran. They ran with their heads ducked to watch where each foot landed, and they fled headlong into something! Braedon fell to the ground, his friend under him, and he looked up. The fair man, Michael, stood there. A smile adorned his glorious face.
    “Do not fear.” He said to them. “I am called Michael. The Lord King has decreed that I should protect his land from such vile beasts as Jacquelyn.”
   “H-how… how did you get f-from… there to here so quickly?” Braedon stuttered.
   A light chuckle lifted from Michael’s lips. “The Lord King has given me such power.” His face became suddenly stern. “Now, go back to your home and tell your kindred that Ainmire has not forgotten Ilarian.”
    Without another word, Michael took to the sky and vanished. The two boys raced back to the village of Shane and through a bramble of excited words, they told all about their encounter with the fair man. Soon, sightings of these fair men increased and word spread all throughout Illarian that the Fates had sent faeries to protect the people.