The hall was littered with people; the greyness of their clothes was matched only by their ashen faces and dull, vacant eyes. Groans and murmurs of pain came from many while others lay silent and motionless.
    There were great roars of sound coming from without, like a ferocious thunder storm. Scattered amid these terrible eruptions were screams of sheer terror.
    A tall, dark-haired man entered the hall from a narrow passageway to the left of the main doorway. His skin was a golden brown, and his eyes were a deep blue, like sapphires. The gold and silver armour that he wore accentuated his muscular frame. He was flanked at each side by two others who were of equally impressive stature. The latter two bore a close resemblance.  As the three men drew to a stop, a frail-looking young man rose up from the mass of bodies.
    'Arcazia!' the man gasped, excitedly. 'Thank the Lord you have returned.'
    'Ah! My dear Cameron,' said the lead man, stepping forward, 'what is our status?'
    'The outlook is bleak,' said Cameron, 'the demon hoard has reached the sixth line... I fear they will soon break through.'
    'We cannot allow that to happen,' said Arcazia. 'If the dark ones breach the sixth line then the great gates will be closed, and we both know the repercussions that that will have.'
    'Aye, that we do,' said Cameron, solemnly, 'If the great gates should close then the souls of the newly departed will be unable to enter the divine realm, and the dead will walk upon the Earth, emotionless and hungry for the life that is lost to them.'
    'Yes,' added Arcazia, 'and with that hunger will come madness, and then hatred towards the living, and they will become soldiers for the Unholy One.'
    An agonised scream pierced the air, and a broken and bloodied body was tossed into the centre of the hall.
    In the main doorway stood a huge, grotesque creature. Its powerful body was roughly human-shaped - though much larger - and its glowing red eyes stared menacingly at the people huddled together in the room. Masses of lumps and blisters upon its brown, leathery skin wept some foul-looking fluid. Blood dripped from its long, serrated claws and its mouth was a tangle of crooked fangs.
    There were gasps of fear as the creature advanced with alarming speed. People began to run to the far end of the hall and those who couldn't run crawled and dragged themselves across the floor. Several of those nearest to the door were either too slow or too weak to escape, they could only scream as they were rent limb from limb.
    Arcazia stepped forward, lifting his right hand, and turning his palm toward the monstrosity. His eyes suddenly changed colour, flaring up like burning white stars.
    The creature stopped in its tracks, raising its arms as if to shield itself, but to no avail. Its body immediately burst into flames and within seconds it was reduced to a pile of smouldering ash.
    With their morale raised by this temporary victory, the crowd gave a triumphant cheer. Their drained faces began to regain some of their former colour.
    'Jonathan? Xander? Stand watch outside, in case any more of them should manage to break through,' Arcazia commanded.
    The two brothers who stood by his side passed silently out through the main door.
    'You haven't lost your touch,' stated Cameron.
    'My power is strong and I am fresh to the fight,' Arcazia replied. 'but this beast was merely one... it may be a different ending should I confront them in their thousands.'
    'That may yet happen, my friend, if the sixth line does crumble,' said Cameron.
    'Enough speculation of what may or may not happen,' said the tall man, 'tell me, what of the archangels?'
    Cameron hesitated before answering.
    'All, but Michael, stand sentry over the great gates,' he said.
    'And what of Michael?' asked Arcazia.
    'Alas! Michael went out to face a demon general named Banthiel, and was struck down in the ensuing clash,' replied the frail Cameron.
    A grave look passed over Arcazia's face.
    'Banthiel must be very powerful if he can defeat one such as Michael,' he said.
    'Indeed, he was,' said Cameron, 'but he brought about his own end in the process.'
    'That is well,' Arcazia replied, 'at least Michael did not fall in vain.'
    As the two men spoke, the thunderous sounds outside grew louder. The walls of the hall began to tremble under its force. A group of people entered through the main door, all were either carrying or supporting others. Several of them were dressed in the same style of armour worn by Arcazia. Their clothes and faces were pale through exhaustion and injury.
    'The Unholy One grows nearer with every passing moment,' said Cameron.
    A terrible explosion outside caused the ground beneath their feet to shake violently, while a flash of burning energy passed across the hall's entrance. Cameron threw himself to the floor as the searing heat permeated the crowded room, but Arcazia stood fast, seemingly unaffected by the blast.
    Xander re-entered the hall; his armour was blackened and scorched by fire, and his face bore terrible burns. After briefly surveying the room, he approached Arcazia.
    'The demons have found a weak point in the line,' as he spoke, his scars began to fade. 'Some of the stronger ones have broken through and are laying waste to the sanctuaries.'
    By the time he had finished, his face was completely healed; even the scorch marks on his armour had vanished.
    'Then it is time for us to go on the attack,' Arcazia replied. 'Where is Jonathan?'
    'He still guards outside,' said Xander.
    'Good!' exclaimed Arcazia, 'then the two of you must visit the nearby sanctuaries and gather as many of our comrades as can be spared; regenerate the injured if necessary, but mind not to leave yourselves too weak to fight. We will convene at the Spirit Well in one hour.
    'As you wish,' replied Xander. He then turned and left the hall.
    'Why meet at the Spirit Well?' asked Cameron. 'It is of no strategic importance and stands far from the conflict.'
    'Ah, Cameron!' Arcazia said, quietly, 'when you have been here as long as I, you will discover that the Spirit Well is far more than just a passageway to the mortal world. There are many portals to many other plains - you need only know where to look and how to open them.'
    As the tall man moved away he didn't notice the pondering smile that crossed Cameron's frail face.
    Arcazia knelt down beside one of the injured men who lay on the floor; he was a paladin - a champion of good - like himself.
    'They were too strong,' gasped the man.
    'Be still, Nathaniel!' Arcazia said, softly, 'you'll be back to full strength in no time.'
    With that, Arcazia placed his hand upon Nathaniel's forehead. A warm, orange glow began to emerge from his fingers, and soon it spread throughout  the stricken man's body. In a few moments, the colour started to return to Nathaniel's pale face, and soon he was sitting upright.
    'Thank you!' he said to Arcazia, 'I was too weak to regenerate myself; had it been much longer then I would surely have ceased.'
    'Think nothing of my it my friend, I know that you would do the same for me,' Arcazia replied.
    The tall man rose to his feet and looked around. There were many more weak and injured sat huddled together in the crowded room, too many for him to help them all. He noticed Cameron moving quickly towards the passageway by the main entrance.
    'Cameron!' he shouted, 'Be careful out there, some of the dark ones may still be lurking.'
    'Do not worry about me, my friend, I shall be safe enough, but there are others outside who need bringing to safety,' the frail man answered, before vanishing down the passageway and out of the small door at its end.
    A few seconds later a short shriek came from the end of the same passageway. Arcazia moved with inhuman speed to investigate the cry, and was just quick enough to catch sight of a large bat-like shadow before it disappeared into the sky. Cameron was nowhere to be seen, but on the ground, outside of the door, was a small heap of smoking ash.

Arcazia stood on the veranda outside of the main entrance of the hall, looking out across the city; this was the waiting zone, where the departed come to rest until the Lord decides their fate - whether they remain here to serve a higher purpose, or are reborn as mortals upon the Earth.
    The sanctuaries, where the departed dwelt during their stay, were white buildings with ornate domed roofs, scattered among vast parks and gardens that seemed to stretch on forever. Beyond this astounding vista lay the sixth line, a powerful energy barrier providing the city's last defence against the evil and chaos of the outer plains. Scores of paladins stood guard along its edge, and beyond them lurked the shadows and silhouettes of the demon hordes trying to tear their way through.
    As Arcazia watched, a huge creature burst through the barrier. Standing approximately thirty feet high, its bulbous body was covered in shiny, black scales and supported on four long, spidery legs.
    Several paladins rushed to intercept it, hurling bolts of white energy as they approached. The creature struck back, spitting out a stream of green liquid. One of the men caught the full spray and fell to the floor, screaming. Within a few seconds, his body was completely dissolved - only a small pool of bubbling fluids was left.
    The other paladins continued their attack, but the creature seemed unaffected. As they ducked and dodged its acidic venom, one of them withdrew from the fight. He stood well back and brought his feet together, and then spread out his arms, taking the form of the cross. His body began to glow, slowly increasing in intensity until he shone like a miniature sun. All of a sudden, he rose up into the air and shot, like a burning arrow, into the creature's belly.
    Roaring with pain, the monster reared up on it's hind legs and then fell onto it's back, thrashing and writhing, wildly. Hard, black scales began to shoot off in all directions as fiery rays burst their way out of it's body. The holes became more and more numerous, until the creature became a glowing mass, then the light vanished, and neither the creature nor the paladin remained.
    Arcazia felt a deep pang of sorrow in his heart at the sight.
    'Another brave soul is lost,' said a voice behind him. It was Nathaniel; his spirit had been restored to full strength.
    'Yes... but it was a valiant end,' he replied.
    'My friend, the others are restored and waiting; we are ready to move,' said Nathaniel.
    'Good. Then let us go and rendezvous with Jonathan and Xander at the Spirit Well,' Arcazia replied. 'We shall turn the tide of this war and send the dark one's scurrying back to their shadowy realm.'

The Spirit Well was situated in the centre of a small copse. It was twenty feet across, with a low, white wall marking its edge. Impenetrable to the eye, its blue surface rippled with energy. From a distance it looked like water.
    Spaced evenly along the wall were eight tall figures. Each was dressed in a long, white robe, with a hood covering their face. These were the guardians of the well, they stood still and silent, there only purpose to protect it from contamination by evil.
    Arcazia approached the well, with Nathaniel and a number of others following closely behind. As he drew nearer, he noticed that other paladins had already arrived. They were spread out in small groups among the trees. There weren't as many as he had hoped for - perhaps sixty or so - but still ample to carry out his plan.
    One paladin stepped forward from the trees to greet him; it was Xander.
    'Sire, I have gathered together all those along the way, who could be spared,' he said. 'We aren't many, and some had to be regenerated and are not yet at full strength.'
    'Have no worries, Xander,' Arcazia replied, 'you have done well to muster this many. There are enough here to achieve our aim.'
    'And what is that aim, Arcazia?' shouted a mocking, but familiar voice.
    Arcazia turned around, and there, propped against the trunk of a tree, was Cameron.
    'Let me guess!' he said, his voice full of spite and derision. 'You intend to take your soldiers down into the Spirit Well and lead them to the gates of Hell. And what would you do once you were there? Seal them closed to cut off our reinforcements? You aren't strong enough to take on the guardians of the gates... not even with this rabble behind you.'
    'I see I need not have feared for your safety, earlier,' answered Arcazia. 'Whose remains were those that you left outside the hall?'
    'Oh, just some poor unfortunate who happened to see my true nature,' Cameron replied, with glee. 'One of your paladins, I believe.'
    Arcazia felt the stirrings of anger welling-up inside him; he wanted to lash out and wipe that self-satisfied smile from Cameron's face. But no! that is what he wanted; for the paladin to give in to a momentary violent impulse. The Unholy One was trying to corrupt his soul.
    'Getting angry yet, Arcazia?' Cameron goaded. 'Don't you want to strike me?'
    'I pity you, Cameron,' replied the tall man. 'Your heart is dark and empty, with nothing to fill the void but hatred.'
    'Oh, please, spare me the sympathy,' continued Cameron. 'Would it help to know that it was I who destroyed the archangel, Michael?'
    'You lie!' Arcazia retorted. 'Michael would not fall to one such as you.'
    'Would he not?' said the other. 'Perhaps I despatched him slowly... drew out his suffering for as long as I could; and perhaps he begged for mercy before I finally ended his existence.'
    'No!' yelled Arcazia, 'Michael would never do that.'
    The anger was burning within him once more, and this time he could not stifle its flames. Energy began to course through his veins; his hands were glowing with power. As he prepared to release his fury, he noticed that the surface of the Spirit Well was different. It had become dull; as if it were polluted. He projected a message into the minds of the other paladins.
    Be ready, my friends. I fear we have entered a trap.
    Arcazia could contain his rage no longer, and cast a fiery, blue bolt at his tormentor.
    Cameron fell to the ground, screaming, as the energy crackled and arced about his body. But quickly, the screaming turned to a chilling laughter as he returned to his feet.
    'You fool, Arcazia! You'll need to do better than that to beat me,' he taunted.
    The paladin cast another bolt; this one caught Cameron in the chest, but it seemed to have no effect.
    'Have you finished yet, Arcazia? Is it my turn now?' he hissed. He started laughing again, with that cold, mocking laughter. As he laughed, a metamorphosis occurred.
    All watched silently, as Cameron began to change. First, his pale robes transformed into black, metallic armour and chain mail, and then his eyes became a glowing green; the pupils narrowing to tiny slits. Next, he began to grow, until he stood almost a foot above the tallest of the paladins, and his thin arms and legs suddenly became strong and muscular, with his fingers developing into lethal talons. From his back sprouted two great, bat-like wings; His skin became leathery and grey, and his hair grew into a long, black mane. Huge, vicious teeth emerged from the canine muzzle that had replaced his mouth, and from the base of his spine stretched a long, pointed tail.
    As Arcazia cast another bolt, other paladins rushed to his aid, encircling the demonic Cameron.
    'ATTACK!' roared Cameron.
    At his command, the eight, white-robed guardians flung back their hoods to reveal their monstrous countenances; while out of the well, climbed more demons - they had been hiding just below its suurface.
    Arcazia looked on in horror, as the dark ones flowed forward to attack.
    'What have you done with the real guardians?' he shouted.
    'Don't worry, Arcazia. I dealt with them personally,' the demon sneered. 'They ceased so quickly, they would never have felt a thing. It was quite disappointing, really - I had hoped that they'd be more of a challenge.'
    Overwhelmed by rage, the paladin threw another bolt; so hot that it left a stream of flames behind it as it shot through the air. But with lightning speed, Cameron caught it in mid-flight, stifling its energy in his clawed hand.
    'I've told you already, you'll have to do better than that,' he laughed. 'Now it's my turn!' Opening his gaping mouth, he spat a sheet of red fire.
    Arcazia leapt sideways to avoid the deadly attack - it missed him by only a few inches. But three of his comrades, who stood behind him were not so fortunate; in the blink of an eye, they were incinerated. Nothing - not even ash - remained.
    'You see my strength, Arcazia? Your puny powers are nothing compared with my own,' bellowed the demon.
    While the paladin gathered his energy to form another bolt, he was knocked to the ground as a fireball exploded against his breast plate. He returned to his feet, only to be sent reeling a second time by another impact.
    'Have you had enough yet?' laughed Cameron.
    Winded, Arcazia struggled to his knees; his armour was dented and scorched. He surveyed the chaos around him. All about, his people were wrestling with the demons. Charred bodies and heaps of ash - the remains of both paladins and demons - littered the ground. Another fireball came hurtling towards him. It narrowly missed him as he rolled out of its path, but its flames licked his shoulder, burning into his very soul, and making him cry out in pain.
    Distracted by his obsession with tormenting Arcazia, Cameron failed to notice that his soldiers were losing the battle. Several minutes later he stood alone amid a dozen paladins. Soon he was being assailed from all sides, but still he seemed impervious to their attacks, shrugging off their energy bolts as if they were nothing but flies.
    Arcazia communicated mentally with the others.
    He's too strong. We cannot hope to defeat him here, but if we can force him into the Spirit Well, I may be able to send him elsewhere, were he can do no more harm.
    Surrounding the demon, the paladins increased the intensity of their attack, but his fireballs continued to hinder them, causing them to break off and seek cover.
    There was a scream as one the men was engulfed by flames and burned out of existence; and then another, and another. They were losing fast.
    Cameron rose into the air. His great wings flapping unnaturally slowly - but then, there was nothing natural about the demon's power, as he hovered high above their heads. Fireballs rained down on the men below; this new angle gave him a better view of his adversaries. Then he manoeuvred into a position above the well.
    Now is our chance, thought Arcazia. We must get him into the well.
    Nathaniel broke from his cover and moved quickly forwards. Springing from the small wall, he headed for the demon. But he was too slow; Cameron spotted him, and struck him with a burning stream of energy. He was thrown back by the impact and hit the ground with a heavy thud. There he lay, motionless.
    Cameron formed a fresh fireball, preparing to finish off the stricken warrior. But Nathaniel was saved by another paladin, who placed himself between the two, at a terrible cost.
    Xander's brother, Jonathan, stepped back from the fight and began to take the form of the cross.
    'Rest in peace, my brother,' Xander muttered to himself, as he saw what his brother was about to do.
    Jonathan's body glowed brightly as he lifted into the air. Then he streaked, like lightning, towards the winged demon.
    Cameron roared with agony as he was struck and enveloped by the fiery arrow that the paladin had become. Still hovering over the well, his body started to jerk and convulse. Stray fireballs and energy bolts were cast in all directions.
    'Everyone stay back,' shouted Arcazia.
    He could see that Jonathan's selfless act wasn't enough. Cameron was too strong; the attack didn't sufficiently penetrate the fiends body.
    Soon, Arcazia thought, the demon will be vanquished forever. But not yet... not while Jonathan's power still burned so strongly.
    A few seconds later, the glow started to fade, as Cameron regained control.
    Now! Arcazia ran from his cover and leapt into the air. His body slammed into the demon's, and his weight pulled them both down. Together, they plunged into the Spirit Well.

In the total darkness of the well, the two unearthly beings fought; each struggling for mastery over the other, as they fell ever deeper. Apart from the glow of energy bolts and fireballs, the only other focal point was the surface, which was now nothing more than a pin-prick of light, high above them.
    Clinging to the demon's back, Arcazia locked his arms about it's neck and chest. All the while, Cameron was twisting and turning, trying to break free, but the paladin's grip was too strong.
    With his flesh torn by the monster's claws, the paladin reached out with his senses, seeking one of the many hidden portals within the well. He soon found what he sought, but he was growing weaker by the moment, as Cameron's resistance grew more and more frenzied. He quickly mouthed a silent invocation, and the portal gushed open. It was a swirling eddy of darkness, even blacker than the well, and as they went downl, it went down with them.
    Upon seeing the vortex, Cameron was overcome by fear - a sensation that he was used to instilling in others, but had never experienced himself. He struggled frantically as Arcazia pushed him towards it, and then, with a tremendous heave, he threw off his captor and turned to face him.
    Arcazia gathered together every last ounce of strength in his battered body and flew at his nemesis. As he approached, Cameron let loose another fireball. The paladin was engulfed in flames, but still he hurtled forward, carried on by his momentum. He slammed into the demon, throwing him backwards through the portal.
    Cameron gave a final, blood-curdling scream, and then he was gone... banished to another plain of existence, were he would spend the rest of eternity.
    Exhausted, Arcazia continued to fall deeper down the well; the airless void extinguished the flames, but his injuries were grave, and he feared that his end was near. Suddenly, he felt an arm about his waist.
    'Worry not, sire. You are not lost yet,' said a voice.
    It was Xander. He had dived into the well after him. Soon they were heading back towards the surface.

Weakened by his combat with Cameron, Arcazia marched towards the sixth line. He had been partially restored by Xander and a few of the others, but now his body was regenerating on its own.
    A thunderous explosion shook the ground; this was followed by a bright flash. In the distance he could see the barrier beginning to disintegrate.
    'We must hurry, time grows short,' he said to the others, as he quickened his pace.
    Behind them, above the city, two bright stars began to converge. The great gates were closing.

Arcazia, now almost fully healed, stood on an open meadow, mid-way between the city and the site of the failed barrier. The sky above him was dull and grey. He looked over his shoulder. To his right stood Nathaniel; to his left stood Xander; and behind them were the remnants of the legion of paladins, over two-thousand strong. Before them came the demon hoards, pouring forth - an endless ocean of monsters, stretching off as far the eye could see, and on the horizon, a huge wall of blackness arose.
    'The Unholy One approaches,' he said. 'We must brace ourselves for the onslaught that is to come.'
    'Defeat is inevitable,' Nathaniel added. 'All we can do now is slow down their advance and reduce their numbers. We can only pray that the great gates will hold them at bay after we are gone.'
    'The sixth line has crumbled, and our foe is upon us,' Arcazia spoke with both his voice and his mind, so that even the most distant of the paladins could hear him. 'We few have formed a seventh line, and they will not cross it while one of us still stands. For each of ours that falls, so will a hundred of theirs.'
    Arcazia turned to face the oncoming enemy. The tangled mass of demons was almost upon them, drawing ever closer by the second. A blue fire burned in his eyes; sparks started to crackle about his fingertips; the power surged through his limbs as an energy bolt began to form in his hand.
    The enemy closed in...
 

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