"Y'know, there aren't that many left of us."
Tyrian looked around, the ivory landscape blinding in its brilliance. Whoever decided on white should be slapped silly. After a few millennium, it was aching to the sensibilities. He'd love to have a few blues or greens to break things up once in a while. The original architect was gone though, for a long time. Either that or he just no longer cared.
"How much longer are you going to stay here, Tyrian?" His companion was nothing if not persistent.
"I'm not a follower, Asa. You know what will happen once he has everyone." He gazed over his shoulder at the beauty behind him. She was perfect. Too bad. "Death isn't necessarily an evil thing at this point."
Asa sighed, "Steadfast to the end, huh Tyrian? He will come for you, when you're the last one standing behind the line. You're right though; death isn't evil. What he subjects you to will be."
He heard her fly off, barely a whisper of movement. Maybe that was the problem. They had been too silent for too long. Nobody really objected when the first bunch left. No uproar was heard as their numbers became quickly thinned. Now there were so few of them left, it was doubtful anything could be done.
Tyrian raised himself up, unfurling grey wings in a wide stretch. It had already begun. He concentrated a moment, easing the grey back to pearl. As much as he had come to hate white lately, he had chosen a side. It didn't matter that he was one of the few left who cared. Some things shouldn't change, no matter how useless they might seem.
His gaze pierced the veil, eyeing the buzzing activity. The poor things had no idea how lucky they were - and what was coming. They might have been given the prize long ago, but it was about to be stripped from them very soon. Well, soon was relative of course. For his kind, soon was a few centuries. For them, nothing happened soon enough.
Shaking his head, Tyrian started off once more towards home. The smell of decay hit him, an instant before he heard the beast leap. He barely managed to duck beneath the blackened claws and matted fur, swearing in surprise. The demonspawn skidded on the marble street, acidic saliva leaving pockmarks in it's wake. He hadn't expected another attempt so soon, but obviously somebody wanted his attention. With practiced ease, a short spear appeared in his right hand. The demonspawn crouched once more, assessing its prey. A feint to the left was lost on Tyrian as it lept once more, an unearthly growl bellowing from its maw. He was ready this time however, the spear burying itself in the blackened chest as it flew towards him. With a spine-wrenching yowl, the demonspawn fell heavily to the ground before fading away.
This was getting ridiculous. Tyrian wrenched his spear from the fractured stone, taking a moment to watch as the last drop of acid dissipated. He couldn't keep dodging attacks every day, even if they were about as intelligent as a rock. Eventually one of them would get lucky, and he wasn't ready to end it just yet. Making a decision, he vaulted skyward in a rush. The original architect might not care anymore, but Tyrian needed to hear it for himself. He might regret it, but it was time to pay somebody a visit. He just hoped he could get in.