<div align="center"> <div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Valsefiel, Harvestor of Finality</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/aa/21/0d/aa210df853da5f4f911a44090f608434--arch-angels-female-warriors.jpg)</div></div><br/>Clouds shifted across her wings, swirling and intertwining both far below and far above. The sun gilded the gentle tops of this massive misty clouds, the varieties of colors blushing and as innocently pure as the color of all four of her wings. Her feathers, like silken steel, shifted in the changing crisp wind, her gold hair secured tightly both under her hood and in three bands after that. Nothing was more distracting than long hair when flying, and as a being used to having control over every aspect of herself, the long hair was chained and bound, fastened to her as she flew. While it might be frivolous, she just could bear cutting it, even if it was a nuisance. <br/><br/>Flying among the giant colors in the alighted sky, she shifted her wings and spiraled downwards, diving like a hawk but with far more glittering flare. The sun gleamed off her gold, silver and steel armor. Closing her eyes as she spiraled, a small smile crossed her face. If there ever was peace in her volatile being, it was this. Flying. She had to get the most of it while she could, for these peace talks would lock her inside and keep her from this small freedom. Her eyes opened, her mouth sobering into its usual small stern frown. Her wings opened and she was jerked back by the wing, halting her free fall.<br/><br/>Valsefiel, Harvestor Of Finality. Yes, she was a warrior. This weakness of curiosity that kept her gold eyes scanning over the land below would have to be quelled. Being a younger angel, she should mature quickly so she could overtake the others of her kind more efficiently. But orders of the mind often were ignored by the heart.  Alone, with no one to scrutinize her, she could allow herself small relaxations in her usually regimented ways. <br/><br/>Below, the sight of the snow covered palace etched in the stone of the mountain made her circle in the air, taking it all in with both a cunning mind and curious eye. It was hideous. It was beautiful. Palaces should be made of glorious light and cloud and air and energy. Yet this was strong and surely as intimidating as anything she was used to. To move and shape that much stone. Mystifying it was to her angelic mind. Her kind was superior in every way, of course, but it was a fascinating mystery as to how creatures so squat, short and ugly (for the description of ‘dwarves’ were depicted as extremely an unattractive race) could ever make anything so beautiful out of something as immovable as a mountain.<br/><br/>The gleaming angel high in the sky glided down with the power of all four of her great wings. She gracefully maneuvered with little difficulty down to the guarded entrance of the superbly craved and etched doors. At her full height, she loomed over humans and fae, usually standing face to face with the largest of demon warriors, but the angel was considered small for her kind. Though through no fault of her own, mind you. Her kin were greedy when it came to energy, even as another of their kind was being birthed by light and sky.<br/><br/>Righting her otherwise perfect image, no hair out of place, she held herself with ethereal confidence, gilded and gleaming in glory. Valsefiel tipped her head back a bit haughtily. Yes, this sort of entrance suited one of her magnificent angelic kind. Her wings resting behind her back, she entered the hall the door opened too. It was warm, if a bit dark. But then again she was used to brilliant light gilding everything. Not even the ‘dwarves’ could master the art of binding light into every corner of their wondrously crafted walls. The armor of her heeled shoes, to give both height and an intimidating sound as she walk, the angel sauntered with grace and fluid splendor to her quarters as directed.<br/><br/>Looking about the room, she raised a brow. Well, it was by no means anything she was used to, but it seemed to hold more comfort than the stone carved bed she had been expecting. After all everything here seemed to be made of stone. It would do. At least they had taken her height in account and not given her a room originally intended for one of those short almost mythical ‘dwarves’. The tapestries were ornate, the bed large and plush, and everything seemed to be in order for her arrival. Highly efficient of them, though there was nothing familiar in this room. Well, no matter. On to the next exploration. <br/><br/>“I would like to be directed to the foremost meeting of the other delegates,” she spoke in words that were polite, if a bit distant and authoritative. The creature she looked down on, without so much as a tilt of her head, stepped forwards and motioned for her to follow. Yes, very efficient. This was not going to be as barbarically horrendous as she thought. Oh, small graces. It would help soften the distaste of having to mingle with lesser creatures, at the very least. <br/><br/>To her surprise, she was brought to a training area. A dragon kind tackling the targets with power and prowess one would expect from the brutal force of their race. She was rather glad it was a training ground, the familiar territory putting her at ease far more than some political meeting room. Standing with her hands behind her back, looking over the reptilian humanoid with an analyzing eye, it was rather refreshing to be able to examine the creature without the edge of having to make sure his weapons didn’t end up denting her armor. But then, upon closer inspection, she realized that he was just an inch taller than her. She pressed her lips together, dissatisfied with the discovery.   <br/><br/>“You must be the said Dragon Prince Ruurik of the mortal realm,” her voice was clear and calm, radiating the heat from the voice although the words were spoke with distant disinterest, “You’ve quite the reputation, as far as those of the mortal realms are considered. Even I have knowledge of you.” A compliment or an insult? It was always hard to distinguish with Valsefiel, though her meanings were usually somehow both, despite others always taking her just as a usual condescending angel. Just as she thought this palace barbaric and ugly to her angelic tastes, it was also beautiful and wonder-striking to her lack of experience. Her double meanings were never insincere or untruthful, however. As an angelic warrior she did not stoop to the ways of demons and their blatant false ways.<br/></div>