#Breastplate of righteousness

[theindomitablewoman]

The Full Armor of God

A Guide to Spiritual Resilience & Divine Alignment

“Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against (overcome/neutralize) the devil’s schemes.” — Ephesians 6:11

To “put on the full armor of God” comes from Ephesians 6:10-18, where Paul describes spiritual protection that believers need to stand against negative forces, deception, and challenges in life. It symbolizes embodying divine strength, wisdom, and virtues to navigate trials with faith and resilience.

The armor of God is not about engaging in physical battles but cultivating an inner state that protects against deception, fear, and ego-driven influences. It is about standing in divine truth, unwavering faith, and spiritual discernment. Below is a deep exploration of each piece, its scriptural foundation, insights from master teachers, self-reflection questions, and practical applications.

This passage is about SPIRITUAL EMPOWERMENT—it reminds you to stay centered in divine truth, reject fear-based conditioning, and navigate life with clarity, resilience, and love. It’s not about external battles but an internal alignment with your highest self, embodying divine presence in all areas of life.

"I've been to dark places. I've lost my foundation. Scrapped my knees, begging for something new. Just hold on tight so I can make it through. There's nothing else I can do. I guess I'm gonna have to trust you." -Stephen Stanley "Your Way, Not Mine Your Timing, Not Mine Your Will, Not Mine Your Path. Your Plan. My Life in Your Hands. I Surrender ALL to YOU!" -Jon Reddick

The Belt of Truth 

Grounding in Divine Reality

“Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist.” — Ephesians 6:14

The belt holds everything together, just as truth secures our spiritual foundation. This is about discerning divine truth from illusion—whether external deception or internal self-delusion. Truth aligns us with higher wisdom and prevents us from being swayed by fear, manipulation, or false narratives.

“You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32) — Jesus “Truthful words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not truthful. Good words are not persuasive; persuasive words are not good.” — Lao Tzu “Don’t get lost in your pain, know that one day your pain will become your cure.” — Rumi

SELF-REFLECTION

What internal or external illusions am I clinging to?

Where am I afraid of truth, and why?

How can I cultivate a deeper relationship with divine wisdom rather than seeking validation from human narratives?

FIND YOUR TRUTH

Engage in honest self-inquiry—journal truths you’ve resisted.

Practice discernment—notice where fear clouds your ability to see truth.

Meditate on scriptural wisdom to distinguish divine truth from societal conditioning.

The Breastplate of Righteousness 

Guarding the Heart with Integrity

“With the breastplate of righteousness in place.”  — Ephesians 6:14

The breastplate protects the heart, symbolizing the need to guard our inner world against resentment, judgment, and misaligned desires. Righteousness is not about moral superiority but about alignment with divine love, acting from integrity rather than ego-driven impulses.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” (Matthew 5:8) — Jesus “The mind is everything. What you think you become.” — Buddha “Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.” — Dalai Lama

SELF-REFLECTION

Do my actions align with divine love, or are they driven by pride, fear, or validation?

How do I protect my heart from resentment without closing it off to love?

Where am I called to act with greater integrity in my relationships and work?

FIND YOUR INTEGRITY

Engage in heart-centered meditation to release anger or judgment.

Choose conscious kindness—act from love, even when ego wants to react.

Cultivate moral courage—stand for righteousness, even when inconvenient.

The Shoes of the Gospel of Peace 

Walking with Inner and Outer Harmony

“And with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.” — Ephesians 6:15

Shoes represent our foundation—how we move through the world. The gospel of peace is about embodying inner stillness and non-reactivity, choosing to walk in harmony rather than conflict.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives.”  (John 14:27) — Jesus “Peace is every step.” — Thich Nhat Hanh “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” — Gandhi

SELF-REFLECTION

Where am I allowing external chaos to disturb my inner peace?

How do I contribute to peace (or conflict) in my relationships?

In what areas do I need to trust divine timing rather than forcing control?

FIND YOUR PEACE & HARMONY

Practice mindful walking—move with presence and gratitude.

Engage in conscious breathwork to cultivate inner stillness.

Choose peace over reaction—pause before responding in anger.

The Shield of Faith 

Deflecting Doubt and Fear

“Take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.” — Ephesians 6:16

Faith acts as a shield, protecting us from the “arrows” of fear, doubt, and negativity. It is trust in divine order, even when circumstances seem uncertain.

“Do not be afraid; just believe.” (Mark 5:36) — Jesus “Faith is not about everything turning out okay. It’s about being okay no matter how things turn out.” — Mother Teresa “As you start to walk on the way, the way appears.” — Rumi

SELF-REFLECTION

Where am I letting fear dictate my choices instead of faith?

Do I truly trust divine timing, or do I try to force outcomes?

How can I strengthen my faith in difficult moments?

FIND YOUR FAITH

Affirm divine protection daily—replace fear-driven thoughts with trust in God and Self.

Keep a faith journal—record moments where divine guidance appeared.

Surround yourself with faith-affirming people and teachings.

The Helmet of Salvation 

Guarding the Mind from Falsehood

“Take the helmet of salvation.” — Ephesians 6:17

The mind is a battlefield. This helmet shields against limiting beliefs, self-doubt, and deceptive thoughts. Salvation consciousness means aligning thoughts with divine wisdom, rejecting ego-driven fears.

“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:2)  — Jesus “The happiness of your life depends on the quality of your thoughts.”  — Marcus Aurelius

SELF-REFLECTION

Are you choosing to indulge in Fear or Love? Are you loving yourself, too?

Are you choosing to feed Doubt or Faith?

Are you choosing to live in Deception or Truth?

Are you choosing alignment with Chaos/Distraction or Peace/Clarity?

HONE YOUR CLARITY/DISCERNMENT

Challenge limiting beliefs—ask, “Is this thought from love or fear?”

Meditate on higher truths to rewire thought patterns.

The Sword of the Spirit 

Using Divine Wisdom as Power

“The sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” — Ephesians 6:17

The sword represents discernment and spiritual wisdom. Unlike other armor, it is the only offensive piece—truth and divine wisdom cut through illusion.

“Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4) — Jesus

SELF REFLECTION

How are you recognizing and disengaging from manipulative or ego-driven dynamics?

Are you trusting in divine guidance when faced with emotional challenges?

How are you moving forward with clarity and faith, rather than getting caught in cycles of doubt or external validation?

Are you holding onto your joy, creativity, and your spiritual calling despite resistance from others?

CULTIVATE YOUR WISDOM

Study sacred texts—use them as guidance.

Speak with clarity and truth—words create reality.

Putting on the armor of God is a daily spiritual practice—aligning with truth, righteousness, peace, faith, divine wisdom, and salvation consciousness which must be aligned with to sustainably produce the fruits of the spirit in your mortal life. 

How will you implement these in your life today?

FULL ARMOR OF GOD (Snapshot)

Belt of Truth 

Living in honesty and integrity, being grounded in divine truth rather than deception or illusion.

Breastplate of Righteousness 

Guarding your heart by choosing righteousness, aligning actions with love and virtue.

Shoes of the Gospel of Peace 

Walking with peace, spreading harmony, and being steadfast in faith even in adversity.

Shield of Faith 

Defending against doubts, fears, and negativity by trusting in divine guidance and protection.

Helmet of Salvation 

Guarding your mind from confusion, despair, and falsehoods, anchoring yourself in divine purpose.

Sword of the Spirit (Word of God) 

Using divine wisdom, scripture, and spiritual discernment to navigate challenges.

ARMOR UP!

[thelordismylightandmysalvation]

Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace.

Graphic via Verse of the Day - Ephesians 6:14-15 (ESV)

[allscripture]

THE ARMOR OF GOD

10Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.

11 Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.

12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

13 Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.

14 Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness;

15And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace;

16Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.

17 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God:

18 Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints;

Ephesians 6:10-18 (KJV)

[freebiblestudies]

Line Upon Line Lesson 078: The Breastplate of Judgment and Righteousness

Exodus 28:15 - You shall make the breastplate of judgment. Artistically woven according to the workmanship of the ephod you shall make it: of gold, blue, purple, and scarlet thread, and fine woven linen, you shall make it.

One of the most interesting pieces of the vestments for the high priest was the breastplate of judgment. In general, a breastplate is a metal plate worn as defensive armor to protect the chest area.  However, this breastplate was different.

Let’s read together Exodus 28:27-30 and Exodus 39:20-22.

The breastplate was not made of metal. Rather, it was made of the same thread and fine linen as the ephod. The breastplate had twelve precious stones set in it. The breastplate  also had two gold rings and two braided gold chains to securely bind the breastplate to the ephod.

The breastplate symbolized the twelve tribes of Israel. The high priest was to keep their concerns close to his heart as he did his priestly work in the sanctuary. The high priest also represented the people to God on the day of atonement, which foreshadowed the final judgment.

Let’s read together Isaiah 59:16-20; Ephesians 6:14; and 1 Thessalonians 5:8.

Interestingly, there are references to a breastplate as protective armor. The breastplate is specifically referred to as the breastplate of righteousness in the books of Isaiah and Ephesians. The breastplate is referred to as the breastplate of faith and love in the book of 1 Thessalonians.

In the book of Isaiah, Jesus put on the breastplate of righteousness and redeemed His people. In the book of Ephesians, we are encouraged to put on the breastplate of righteousness.

Let’s read together Leviticus 19:15; Deuteronomy 4:8; Psalm 19:9; Psalm 94:15; Isaiah 5:16; Jeremiah 4:2; Daniel 7:22; John 5:30; and 2 Thessalonians 1:5.

There is a clear link between judgment and righteousness in the Bible. Jesus redeemed humanity through His righteous sacrifice on the cross. As followers of Christ, we are exhorted to put on the breastplate of righteousness and to follow Him in faith and love.

Friend, will you put on the breastplate of judgment and righteousness?

[abasilence-ministries]

Exposing Opened Doors-A Spiritual Warfare Lesson

On the BattleField Spiritual Warfare Training God Almighty is the SOURCE of all wisdom, knowledge, and understanding.HE tells us in Jeremiah 33:3 to ask of him and he will show us great and unsearchable things.Through a study of God’s Word, and by the example set by Jesus Christ, I have been taught to address the core of issues and not the surface matter.In this training (Psalm 144:1), the Holy…

[graceandpeacejoanne]

Isaiah 59: The Armor of God

God is not indifferent to wrong, and God knows you and I cannot rescue ourselves. #Isaiah59 #ArmorofGod

God is not indifferent to wrong, and God knows you and I cannot rescue ourselves. The Armor of God “He saw that there was no one    and was appalled that there was no one to intervene,so his own arm brought him victory,    and his righteousness upheld him.” Isaiah 59:16 (NRSVUE) God will redeem those who turn to the Lord, and God will give recompense to those who have made themselves enemies…

[dkcdude]

Raise Shields

I have to admit that I’m a fan of Star Trek and most of its children and grandchildren. One consistent thing across all variants of the show is that as soon as any sort of bad guy started attacking the Enterprise (or other starship), the first thing Captain Kirk (or other captain) would do is order, “Raise shields.” One thing I always wondered, though, is why they would wait until they were under…

[encourager98]

Put On The Breastplate Of Righteousness For Protectiom

youtube.com/watch The Breastplate is not for cowards! Ephesians 6:11-17 Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God,…

[heartsings77]

Ephesians 6:10-18 NKJV 10 Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. 11 Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. 12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. 13 Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.

14 Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, 15 and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; 16 above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one. 17 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God; 18 praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, being watchful to this end with all perseverance and supplication for all the saints—

[muppetjokernumberfiftysevenfan]

I have returned.

my findings are below the cut, due to the wall of text.

I was correct in my assumptions about the astral plane. I was able to don the following:

the belt of truth buckled around my waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place ( ephesians 6:14 ), with my feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace ( ephesians 6:15 ), the shield of faith ( ephesians 6:16 ), and the helmet of salvation and the sword of the spirit ( ephesians 6:17 ).

I could not see myself, for there are no mirrors within the astral plane. at best, I could only see my arms, my torso, and my legs. I felt a strange weight betwixt my shoulder-blades, and found I had wings with which to carry myself.

and... so I did. with feathery, silvery wings, I flew toward the door on the horizon.

like I promised @themuppetarchives, I did not dare touch it. I stayed twenty feet away from it at all times.

I... admit to feeling... pulled toward it. there was a weight within my chest, heavy like an iron ball attached to a chain that was being tugged by the door itself. it was a compulsion to step closer. to understand. to know.

but I was then reminded of those words of caution I asked for. so I did not move closer.

from what I can recall, the door looked like this:

I recall seeing swirls of color around the door. or was it underneath the gap of the bottom of the door? I cannot remember. I just know there were colors. so many, in fact, that some of them must not have been on the spectrum humans can see.

the door itself appeared to be made of... wood? the texture kept changing. the only constant was a swirl pattern, but that kept moving about as well. it was incredibly disorienting. I had to look away a few times.

the handle was, indeed, dark in color. a dark brass. that was the only true constant.

it was then that the door opened, just a crack.

I took several steps back, readying myself with the sword of the spirit in the event I was to enter combat with... whatever came out.

what emerged was beyond my wildest expectations.

a toy horse. small, plush, and made of felt.

it looked like this:

I... I think I heard it neigh at me.

or whatever constitutes as a neigh from the mouth of a felted horse toy.

as quickly as it appeared, however, it vanished behind the door as it closed back up. I think... I think it wanted me to follow it.

but given recent events surrounding horses, I knew better.

so I made my escape away from the door.

and then I woke up.

I don't. I don't know what to make of this. I can tell you, though, the door is indeed dangerous. I sensed evil behind it. the scent of sulfur filled my nostrils with every breath I took.

so.

I implore you.

do not open the door.

[renatogpadilla]

Light-Bleed.

It was supposed to be another patrol.

Lux and her Illuminators were supposed to be the scouts. That was the point of the name! Illuminate where the threat was and then Garen's men would take care of it. To the Demacian commoner, they were a charitable order of pious men and women who gave charity to the poor and downtrodden, but they could hold their own if push came to shove. Of course, that was only until backup arrived... At least without Lux outing herself.

So when they realized the little mage camp they were supposed to scout out was the current acting base of the Sylas of Dregbourne, saying they were in over their head was the understatement of the century.

Care to imagine what happens when you send a closeted Demacian mage-noble to a camp with a guy whose main superpower is to literally detect and absorb magic...?

What happens, as Garen Crownguard would discover that day, was a massacre.

When the Mageseekers arrived, there weren't many enemies left to fight. Just the marks of a long pair of magical chains, lining the split remains of the members of his sister's squadron.

If you're an older sibling, you might be able to imagine a fraction of the fear that Garen felt. All these bodies, of Mages and Illuminators alike... They could have all been killed, but they'd fought to the last man... They'd actually forced a retreat from Sylas from his own base. For all intents and purposes, they'd won the day!

But they weren't here to celebrate. They weren't here to cheer and rejoice that that monster had one less foothold in their home... They were dead. Splintered. Chained to death.

And his sister was nowhere in sight.

There was never a more panicked man than Garen Crownguard as he was in that moment. His men could handle the stragglers. He immediately started looking for survivors, but the big brother in him really only looked for one.

He caught the little flash of light out of the corner of his eye. Dim as death, but it was there. And he started digging under a small mound of bodies, once men and women of the Shield, like himself. And below the remains of about ten dead Illuminators, barely clinging to life, with a cracked breastplate, and a bleeding out of her side, her hands aglow, agonizing, but alive, was his sister Lux.

He picked her up as gently as he could in the state she was in. She'd hidden under the bodies to live. Or had they hidden her in the end, even knowing what she was? Gods, she would hate herself for this forever... He would make sure every single one of them had a hero's burial. He tucked her hands close to his chest so nobody could see, and his men understood. They took one look at him and told him to go. Normally, he would be the one staying above everyone else... Since when do his men give him orders? But this was Lux, and if there was one thing that had been abundantly clear since he day Garen had become a member of the Dauntless Vanguard and of the Mageseekers, and all of the men and women under him knew it, was the unshakeable faith and insurmountable love the Lord Commander felt for his little sister, and her for him. The few people that knew them personally would swear upon the Spirits that Lux was the only real weakness Garen had. The only thing that could cause him true damage.

And now his sister was dying.

The Mageseekers knew two things for sure as they saw him carry his sister away, running to where he knew she would have leashed her horse, Starfire, to a tree far enough away from danger: The first was that the pain he was going through right now was the most broken they would ever see him.

The second was that the reckoning that would befall the man that had dared lay hands on his little sister would be so righteously terrible, so incredibly brutal and visceral, that the Protector herself would look away in disgust.

But right now, Garen was running... and he was panicking. His sister winced in pain and her hands lit up brighter. She was glowing! He couldn't take her back to the Garrison! They'd know! He couldn't-!

"B-brother..." She could barely form the word. "Star..."

"I know, Lux, I know! I'll get her! I'll get you! You're going to be fine, I swear!" He rounded the corner and indeed, there was Starfire, whining like crazy. There had to be someone he could take her to...! All the healers were under the Crown, and everyone that wasn't was not going to keep their mouth shut about a Mage noble! Who else, who else...?!

He got close to the horse and his sister put a weak, glowing hand to her nozzle and whispered a name between whimpers.

"Isha..."

The horse got it immediately. As soon as she was free and Garen and Lux were on top, she bolted faster than Garen had ever seen her. Isha...? Garen hadn't seen her since the talk they'd had on the balcony a few months back... But she and Lux were close. She already knew... Whether she could help...

He'd trust his sister.

If she thought Isha could save her, he'd put his faith in her too. He let Starfire guide him to the woods next to a little town he'd never heard of before. Into the woods she galloped, fast as lightning, and dodged what Garen would later know were small metal plates on the ground. Traps, for intruders that got too close. Star knew the pattern by heart now.

His sister's whole skin was glowing. No. Not glowing... Flickering. In and out and dimmer every time.

The mare stopped in front of a ramshackle hut in the middle of the woods. Garen didn't have time to appreciate the decor. He patted Star on the head and carried his sister off.

"ISHA!!!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. "ISHA, SHE NEEDS YOU!"

He didn't hear the door unlock over his own heartbeat. The girl with the blue hair basically pushed the door down, her hand clutching something on her thigh.

"Garen? How did you-?" She managed. Then she saw her... Lux bleeding in her brother's arms, her glow wild and uncontrollable, barely clinging to life.

Her world came crumbling down all at once.

"Please..." Garen barely managed it.

That snapped her out of it. "Get her inside." She whispered, almost to herself, and then louder. "GET HER INSIDE, NOW!"

Whatever was on the main table was thrown to the side before Garen could lumber through the door. He put his sister there, in the middle of the room and gave Isha some space. At once, the raggedy woman started patching her up, taking whatever supplies she had on hand. And cleaning up the wounds.

"There's a lot of blood... I can't... There's gotta be SOMETHING!" She'd dressed the wounds and cleaned them up. She'd tried every ointment she could think of that would be safe and even removed pieces of metal from her wounds, but now Jinx was fully panicking. Lux was twitching on the table... What the hell could she do?! She'd not seen wounds this bad since... since...

"Stay awake, baby, stay with me!" The girl said, repeating it to both his sister and herself. Her hands moved so fast Garen couldn't keep track... He thought he saw a flash of purple as she moved from time to time, but that was probably him hallucinating out of stress. Little by little, a bunch of bandages and rags got tinted red...

Too red... Too much...! She could fix the lesser injuries but...

Oh. That's what she could do. What she and nobody else could.

She leaned over Lux's face. "Lux? I need you to listen to me... There's something I can do. And I don't know if it'll work, but if it does, it's going to hurt like hell. It's risky but it's all I've got, okay, love?"

Lux managed to lock eyes with her and Garen saw a softness - a love - he'd never seen in his sister before, even through the pain. She nodded. "Trust y-you..."

That was all Jinx needed to hear.

"I love you. Whatever happens, I love you, Luxanna." She kissed her like there was no tomorrow, and for a fraction of a second she was afraid there wouldn't be... "Garen, get her on the bed!" She said, and she ran to her workbench.

Garen didn't have to be told twice.

"I have you sister! I'm here, we're both here! We're not going anywhere!" He carried her to the room in the back and laid her on a comfy thatch bed. "What now?!"

Isha came into the room, rubbing a wet cotton furiously on her arm. "Now, you hold her down. This is going to be bad."

Then she pulled out a syringe and started drawing her own blood without a second of hesitation.

"What are you-?"

"My blood's not all normal. There's a drug in there that saved my life before. I'm hoping it saves her's too."

"Hoping?!"

"I'VE GOT NOTHING ELSE! YOU WANT HER TO LIVE OR NOT?!?!"

As she said it Garen could barely notice her eyes glowing, a small flash of purple, and then a brighter glow, not from her eyes, but from the syringe. A mix of crimson and neon purple that Garen could feel went against everything he once believed in... Blood Magic, in the most literal sense.

Isha got closer. "Okay, Lux, here goes. Whatever you see, it's not real. We love you!"

She stuck the syringe in the biggest wound she could find and pressed, trying for the life of her to focus on her job and not on Lux's screams of agony as the Shimmer entered her system.

Garen held her down on the bed as much as he could...

And then the lights went crazy.

One moment, her skin glowed like she was about to burst, a mix of gold and purple as gorgeous as it was terrifying. Her eyes, her hair, everything in the room changing colors wildly. The daytime seemed to turn off at one point. The sun outside looked blue, the shadows on the corners of the room felt brighter than any torch and the mirror reflected nothing but a black void where the light should have hit.

All throughout, Luxanna writhed in pain, and all throughout Jinx and Garen held her. And at some point, Jinx put a hand on Garen's shoulder, and he returned the gesture...

One last, massive scream of agony, Lux, lurching forward with almost enough force to push Garen off, and Jinx could swear she lifted a few feet off the bed, the light of her and Garen's own bodies dancing haywire as the Bright Lady fully lost control... and then...

Darkness. Pitch black darkness.

And little by little, the colors returned to the room. The right colors. Dimmer than before, but slowly returning regardless... Like the saturation was coming back to an old photograph.

Lux didn't move. Garen didn't move. He just held her, like a broken ragdoll he couldn't - he wouldn't - live without.

Isha didn't let go of Lux's hand as she sprawled herself and put her ear to her chest... Jinx had never prayed honestly in her life until now.

Nothing.

Nothing...!

Terrible, unreal nothing...!

.....

And then, faintly, weakly, almost imperceptibly, but there...

A heartbeat.

And now Jinx let the tears out.

"Oh, Lux!" She held her so tight she might've crushed her if she wasn't careful. "Oh, love, you really had us going there, honey! You'll be okay, you'll be okay...!"

She was alive. Garen looked at the gaping wound in her side and... He couldn't believe it. It was a small change, but the wound wasn't bleeding anymore! In fact it was... closing. Not super fast, but fast enough to notice.

His sister would live.

He finally allowed himself to breathe as he dropped on the corner of the room.

And very faintly, because his voice was still gone, he laughed. A nervous cry-laugh, like only a big brother could. And his tears began to dance in his eyes and off as well...

*****

It took a few minutes for them to catch their breath and Garen left the room to let Lux recover. He had taken off his armor. It had felt heavy for the first ever time today.

He sat on the couch outside the room in his slacks as Isha came out of the room, pacing.

"She's stable." She said. "Might not wake up for a while, but she'll live..." She had something folded over her shoulder...

She went over to her workbench and picked up a huge backpack and dragged it to the door. Then she sat on the floor, leaning on it.

Garen finally found his tongue.

"You saved her life." Whatever else he had to say would have to wait. That mattered the most. "Thank you."

She just gave him a look... He knew where she lived now. She thought that might be less of a problem than she might imagine, but time would tell...

"Who?" That's all she said. And from the venom in her voice, Garen knew exactly who she meant.

"Sylas of Dregbourne. I take it my sister told you who he is?" He didn't give a singular shit about protocol right now. Isha deserved to know.

"She's mentioned him." She'd done a hell of a lot more than mention him. Somedays, when they weren't... active at night, Lux would wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare the memory of 'Sylas the Unshackled' had caused. "Where?"

"Near the Hinterlands. The border between them and Demacian civilization proper... Just a forward camp, though."

"It's enough." She got up and stormed into her room. She leaned down over the bed and gave Lux a soft kiss before turning to her nightstand and leaving a little contraption there. A tiny toy monkey with a pair of cymbals in its hands and a crank in its back.

She looked at her. Her Light. Her Lux. Barely alive, having survived an agony few but Jinx herself would ever know...

"What are you doing?" Garen asked as she left the room in a huff.

"When she wakes up, she's going to need you." She said. She was in a place she hadn't felt herself in in a long time. "When this happened to me, I started hallucinating. I lashed out. Couldn't think straight. God knows what that means for a girl with Magic at her fingertips. You might have to restrain her."

Garen didn't think she could be mad enough to try what he thought she was going to try.

"And where are you going?"

"Hunting." She answered, and she took out a giant... Godesses, what was that thing? It took Garen a minute to comprehend it. Eight metal tubes strapped together to a massive chamber with a handle and a trigger. Scattered paint littered its surface in intricate patterns. She opened the bag with one hand and fed a bunch of scrap metal where she kept the back of the contraption open with the other. An absolute metal abomination of a weapon. "He went too far. Never again. Stay with Lux. Don't go anywhere. More importantly, don't let her go anywhere. If it's anything like what happened to me, she'll try to leave. Hard."

"You can't just take on Sylas by yourself! He's got gods know how many mages guarding him at all times, and even if you could find him, he did that to Lux! Lux had Magic!" Garen was one to talk... Like he didn't want to go himself! But she had just saved Lux's life. He wasn't going to let her throw her own away!

"Exactly. Magic he would steal. Magic he could use. He's so used to fighting your way... He won't be ready for me." Another weapon left the backpack. A single tube this time, thick as hell, almost as long as Isha herself. A metal shark head adorned what Garen assumed to be the nozzle, painted in blue, pink and gold. "Nobody ever is."

He couldn't stop himself. He got up and grabbed her by the shoulders. "And when he kills you? When Lux wakes up and you're dead? What then?! Why save her life if you're just going to make living it miserable?!"

That actually gave her some pause. Good, some common sense! Finally!

"You got somebody, G?" She sounded different... Darker. She was hurting just as much as him. "Somebody you love? Not like you love your sister... Someone you would die for if it meant they got to be free for a day at least... Someone like that?"

"I do. She... Disappeared during the first revolt Sylas started. I haven't seen her since." Garen had to stop himself from wondering the worst.

"What's her name...?"

"Katarina."

"Sounds pretty." And Jinx got the tiniest smile from the Lord Commander. "If it was her on that bed, and I wasn't here to save her... If you knew who did it. Would you stay your hand?"

The thought alone made him sick to his core. "I KNOW who did it! And going at him like this is not the play! He knows how this works!"

"Sylas knows how you work, Garen. He'll be expecting Mageseekers and Illuminators. A grand show of force, scorched earth, the works. That's why I can do this and you can't. Because I don't need Mageseekers and Illuminators to burn everything to the ground. Because he can't plan for me."

"I won't let you." And he meant that shit. He admired the hell out of her now, but he would not let her be killed by that monster too.

"Lord Commander." She said as that purple glow came to her eyes brighter than ever. Those eyes that were like daggers. Bright, glowing daggers that stabbed deep into Garen's soul. There was a rage in those eyes he had never seen on a human before. "With all due respect... You don't have a choice."

And then she pushed him. Harder than he'd ever been pushed in his life. He'd fought the trolls of the Freljord one on one and he'd not been pushed that hard! He flew over the table and landed back on the couch, pure shock in his face.

He saw her in full now. Her veins glowed purple for a second, her eyes a rabid animal's. She unfolded the thing on her shoulder at last, a dusty, dark green hoodie with fangs at the rim, the inside lined with so many toothy grenades Garen couldn't count them all. She readjusted that contraption strapped to her thigh (because of course that was a weapon too) and lifted both of those insane machinations of hers in one hand each as she turned to face the door.

Still in shock, Garen could only form one question.

"Isha... Who are you?"

The girl at least graced him with an answer.

"Not Isha." She said as she pulled the toothy hood over her head. And she sounded like a demon. Garen would know. He'd fought demons. "My name is Jinx of Zaun. When Lux wakes up, ask her who that is."

And in a flash of purple, she was gone.

*****

Jinx unstrapped Starfire from her tree. The mare didn't whine or step back. She knew what time it was too.

"Take me there."

And Starfire did. She carried the Witch of the Woods, weapons and all, like it was nothing. Almost flying through meadows and forests, ever onwards towards the Hinterlands. Towards their prey. She thought of the kind of monster she was hunting....

And a voice in the back of her mind said "Kill", and Jinx didn't have to be told twice.

[wanderinginhisgrace]

Just wanted to remind anyone going through spiritual warfare, you are not alone. God is with you in the fight. He has given you the tools you need to fight the enemy. Put on the armor of God and pray. Never seize praying.

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints,”-Ephesians‬ ‭6‬:‭10‬-‭18‬

[walkswithmyfather]

Ephesians 6:10-18 (AMP)

John 10:10 (GNT). “The thief comes only in order to steal, kill, and destroy. I have come in order that you might have life—life in all its fullness.”

James 4:7 (AMP). “So submit to [the authority of] God. Resist the devil [stand firm against him] and he will flee from you.” Friend, be prepared! The devil actively seeks to destroy you! Put on your spiritual armor daily!

Ephesians 6: 10-18 (AMP). “In conclusion, be strong in the Lord [draw your strength from Him and be empowered through your union with Him] and in the power of His [boundless] might. Put on the full armor of God [for His precepts are like the splendid armor of a heavily-armed soldier], so that you may be able to [successfully] stand up against all the schemes and the strategies and the deceits of the devil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood [contending only with physical opponents], but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this [present] darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly (supernatural) places. Therefore, put on the complete armor of God, so that you will be able to [successfully] resist and stand your ground in the evil day [of danger], and having done everything [that the crisis demands], to stand firm [in your place, fully prepared, immovable, victorious]. So stand firm and hold your ground, having tightened the wide band of truth (personal integrity, moral courage) around your waist and having put on the breastplate of righteousness (an upright heart), [Is 11:5] and having strapped on your feet the gospel of peace in preparation [to face the enemy with firm-footed stability and the readiness produced by the good news]. [Is 52:7] Above all, lift up the [protective] shield of faith with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. [Is 59:17] With all prayer and petition pray [with specific requests] at all times [on every occasion and in every season] in the Spirit, and with this in view, stay alert with all perseverance and petition [interceding in prayer] for all God’s people.”

Friend, be prepared! The devil actively seeks to destroy you! Put on your spiritual armor daily! Amen! 🙏🙏🙏

[writerthatcannotwrite]

Me, donning my shield of faith, breastplate of righteousness, and sword of the Spirit: ah lads, here we go again

My sister: why are you so Bedecked™️ we're literally going to school

Me, putting on my helmet of salvation: BECAUSE

Sister: it keeps going

Me, almost falling over, tugging on the boots of peace: IM GONNA NEED THESE IF I HAVE TO DEAL WITH HOOLIGANS

[sculptorofcrimson]

Dance Macabre Pt 1

Traitor!Valdor AU Synopsis: The cycle begins again. And the one shard he spared. The one shard, in all his millenia, that he did not kill. Relations: You'll see ψ(｀∇´)ψ

She was the one and the only. The error in the code, the flaw in the machine, the exception to the rule. She was the shard that lived, the one and the only to be spared from the bite of his blade.

She was nothing exceptional in many instances. Slight above average psychic ability. A little above average of the Emperor's essence. Average intellect, strength, emotional response. Absolutely nothing at all. And yet she lived. She was the one, and the only, in all ten thousand years that the Traitor Captain reigned for his terrible, tyrannical rule before he was finally brought down and he ended the same way his master had ended: with golden ichor. Master and slave, Emperor and bodyguard, victim and assassin, let them be intertwined in death. Let him love Him, if only in death.

For all the years he had spent as a traitor, she was the only one who felt his wrath, and lived.

It was not love, the twisted thing they had. It was not even lust. He did not lust. He could not lust. He quite literally could not know desire. The one thing he had once cherished, worshiped, reveled in was dead, and He had torn out the machine that had been a heart when he betrayed Him. He had cast him down, through the gold and through the brume. His talons in his breastplate, His scorn upon His tongue, His hatred blazing in golden eyes as He speared Valdor through upon His claws and cast him down. That final, snipping cut, severing the bond between master and slave in a single, terrible instant upon the Vengeful Spirit.

It was no longer love. He loved Him, and He did not care.

He loved Him. He hated Him. He loved Him. He loathed Him. Around and around with the pendulum, desperate, broken, singing. The call of a mind stripped of all its gifts. Such a broken, piteous sight.

And so he hated His bones. His shards. His remnants. He did not know hate, his master had torn it out of him in so many regards, but he loathed them. He regarded them with no more kindness than if they had been Horus himself, as if they had been the ones to have poisoned him and given him the broken gift of being able to feel all he had lost. Of being just human enough to hate, to thrash and to weep against his chains, but without the true power to care, to know what he lost. Doomed to forever wander for a city he could not name and did not know, groping around blindly in the dark for something he lacked, but could not remember. 

He loathed them. 

He cursed their name the same way he cursed Horus. Horus, for his treachery. Horus, for his gift. Horus, for the way he had so gallantly smiled and welcomed Constantin with open arms when he had lowered the walls of the Palace, when he had broken the Siege of Terra alone and greeted Horus' hordes with gaping gates and scrambling defenses. Horus, for bringing him the truth.

Look at them. Despicable things. Wearing the face of his master as if it was a mask. He could not loathe Him directly, He had taken that away, but he could loathe them. He could loathe them for being Him but not being Him enough, he could loathe them for looking like Him, breathing like Him, living like Him once upon a time, he could hate them for carrying what should have been his. It was like looking upon the corpse of the sun, feeling its dying warmth screaming across the void but knowing it was held in the palm of a worthless mortal. A mortal. Nothing at all, when compared to him.

His master left His bones to the gentry instead of His servant. There was no greater insult than to see Him again, alive, living through their useless bodies, when He had died for their countless, dreary lives and they had lived. They lived for Him, they lived in His place, they're living and desecrating His corpse which should have so righteously remained dead. Let the galaxy burn, let it burn itself to ashes and consume itself under the weight of its voracious hatred, let the mortals stumble and fall and lead themselves to a piteous doom, he would have gladly let them all burn if only he could see Him again. If only to feel the warmth of His love, even if he had to torch Him alive to feel it.

He died ten thousand years ago. And in His place, they wear His corpse.

He sees His face imprinted upon theirs, he sees His bones, rotten and crumbling, stretched over their fragile bodies. He sees His essence, trapped inside, cradled in flesh and bone and it was his duty to tear it free. It was his duty to punish such blatant disrespect of His legacy, his righteous crusade to set Him free and return His soul where it belonged: in the palm of His favored servant. Let them all burn, he reasoned, let them all burn if only he could ignite his lord one last time.

When they fell into his claws, nothing awaited his master's bones but destruction. 

It would have been impulsive for the normally heartless captain, if it had been any but his master. It would have been cruel, it would have been horrifying, it would have been treachery and blasphemy and heresy. But it was also justice. Justice, at least for him. Justice as he watches them scream, sob and wither away, as he watches their fragile bodies break down from starvation and dehydration, dying as their bodies struggle from the poisons pumping through their bloodstream, drowning in their own blood. How he replicates His wounds one by one, first the tendons, then the muscles, then the eye, and then the corpse itself. The Apollonian Spear, carefully, with infinite precision, carving tiny cuts upon them, bleeding them out drop by drop, tasting his lord's memories with each slice. Listening to Him screaming as he sets his boot down upon a fragile, mortal chest, hearing Him roar out in indignity and in betrayal as he presses down and hears the shard's ribs crack and then crumble beneath his weight, as their chest finally gives out beneath the endless pain. And feeling Him die, once more, blood dripping like ichor over the Apollonian Blade, finally preserved in the last tomb He would ever know: the very spear of his servant. Home again at last, as He deserves to be. 

He will kill them all. It was spoken in his vows. 

There is no respite for a shard in the Yellow King's arms. There is only oblivion. He will never spare them, never love them, never hold even a candle of adoration for his former master. To those that dare desecrate His corpse, there is only death, and a slow, horrifying drowning, lost limb by limb to uncaring treachery. He always kills them, as soon as the Aquilan Shields are scattered, their shields shattered and their spears cast aside. His brothers are nothing compared to him. They always die, in hours, or in days if the Aquilan Shields are resourceful, if they're willing to sacrifice themselves for the shard. They rarely succeed, of course. He is Constantin Valdor, and he is the Emperor's greatest assassin, and he will tear His soul shred by shred from the mortal corpses He wears.

When he has them, they always die.

She alone was the exception.

In all ten thousand years, she was the only one who has faced his wrath, lost by the Aquilans, and lived.

She was an Inquisitor of the Ordos Malleus. She had been the one hunting him, the King in Yellow, until the day he caught up to her, and tore her ship open in the middle of the Warp. The Aquilan Shields had come soon before, they had told her what she had to know, and in the Inquisitor's arrogant, off-handed way, she had dismissed them. She had dismissed the fear she saw in their eyes, dismissed it the same way she had dismissed her concerns and plunged into her hunt.

She still remembered that day, the golden devil clad in the raiments of his lost brothers, his cloak a ragged, dead thing hanging over his shoulders, glorious and golden and horrifying as he gutted the ship apart hunting for her. The fear in Ashavar's eyes, visible even through his helm. The way they danced, blade over blade, spear against spear. Valdor fought in his peerless, immaculate style, but now with vicious abandon, the mark of a soul that had nothing left to lose. They had prepared for this. They had prepared a thousand contigencies for this day, yet none of them would serve them at all. Ashavar clashed against him, forcing all his strength into a strike that made even Valdor stall. He punched him in that gap, without fitness and without grace, without any of the training Valdor had enforced upon him. He smashed one of the jewels on Valdor's armor, ducking under Valdor's riposte and dancing around the edge of the Apollonian Spearblade before Valdor stabbed him in the gut. 

There was utterly no honor at all. 

Valdor struck him three more times with the misericordia, Apollonian Spearblade briefly forgotten. He smashed his fist against the side of the Aquilan's helm when he had stumbled, pinning him to the bulkhead with one hand and bashing him against it for good measure. Casting him aside as if he weighed no more than a guardsman, Valdor had turned around to face her. And the Inquisitor had not fled. Gazing up into those blank eyes without even a hint of fear, she raised her own vox and spoke a single, terrible command. Her lips were trembling from nerves. But her eyes were calm, and dead, and utterly triumphant 

‘Ship command. This is your Inquisitor speaking. Activate the Cyclonic Torpedoes we're carrying. Activate all of them.' 

That was her secret. She had been willing to kill both herself and him even before she had set out upon this journey,  before she had met the Aquilan Shields. The captain goes down with her ship.

That brief, brutal moment of deathly cunning flashing through red eyelenses. The moment of revelation, spreading like ink through water. The way she had smiled, vicious, cruel, and victorious.

The Inquisitor had smiled mildly at him, and gave a nod in the direction of the engines. His eyes had tracked that movement, just for an instant, flickering between her and her command box.

'We'll die together, Constantin.'

She was still triumphantly holding her command box when Ashavar pounced.

He crashed onto not Valdor, but onto her. He had wrapped her up beneath his bulk, covering her entirely with his body. She could smell his incense, feel the cold hum of his auramite and feel the bruises forming from where he had smashed into her. He crushes her with all his weight, covering her, wrapping around her. She couldn't breathe but still she tried to scream. If not for herself, then for him. She couldn't see, Ashavar's purple cloak had obstructed her face, but she could feel him. The first misericordia blow shattered his auramite. The second broke through his spine. She could feel him convulse, spasming at least a dozen times beneath the blows. Valdor was so fast, so unspeakably fast, and vicious in his frenzy to get to her. To claw her out and tear out the Emperor's last breaths from her broken corpse. Ashavar groaned above her, and she could hear that voice, so commonly kind, so gentle, now raised in agony. A scraping sound. Ashavar spasmed. A siren was blaring somewhere from lower down on the ship. Then nothing. Ashavar's blood was clouding her eyes. His cloak was soaked with it. His slumped form, once so gigantic, briefly dwarfed by Valdor's looming shadow, now emptying itself of life. 

He had thrown himself over her, and Valdor had cut him to pieces.

'I'll see you again, my master.' It was a curse, as much as a promise.

The traitor Captain had left. Fled, like the coward he was, out of fear or rather "pragmatism", when he realized he would not have time to cut through his brother's corpse and escape the burning supernova of the ship. Fled to kill another day.

She remembers the Aquilans, their panicked voices, their spears and their axes. The way their Shield-Captain had bundled her up in his cloak and frantically tried to wipe the blood from her hair. Two Custodes carrying Ashavar through the winding corridors, ducking beneath the panicked crew. The Shield-Captain's voice, soft and mournful and still trying to be gentle, carrying her wounded form away from the fire. Away from the blood and that terrible, bloodstained cloak, whisking her away before the ship could implode beneath its own baggage of fire.

It was not the first time they would meet. And it was not the first time she would know, with cruel certainty, that he hated her. He hated her, as he hated all shards, and if he had the chance, he would have undoubtedly flayed them all alive, just for another sip of his master's love.

He loved his master. And he hated His shards.

~~~

They had scolded her after that stunt. The Aquilans had scolded her, their red eyelenses masking their fear. Fear for her, fear of him, fear of her and the lengths she was willing to go. They insisted on accompanying her on her walks, on tracking every moment of her health, and standing over her during her meals. It was infuriating. (Then again, she couldn't blame them. Her great-great-great-great ancestral grandmother had apparently been exiled after a much-similar failed coup. That stunt had garnered her much worse than just a few days of annoyance from Aquilan Shields being too overprotective of their charge).

She knew she was dead long before she had set foot upon Daedalus Lied, she had known she was a dead girl walking before she had even baptized her own ship after a long dead genius. The Inquisitor knew that she had been waiting for death since her love had last perished beneath the flames of a heretical cult she had failed to root out, she knew that not even her love of humanity(the Emperor's or hers now?) would have been enough to stop that tide of ink-laden despair that had threatened to pull her down since that terrible night. She had loved them, yes, she had loved this world, with every last of its worthless, tiny, miniscule lives, loved each of them to a vague, beautiful detail, but it was not enough, not enough to overcome her selfish wish for death. To be eternal, and endless, and be with her love in the lightlessness. 

She was nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Nothing but an Inquisitor with a dead psyker-assassin as a lover, a dead love she couldn't even stop from self-destructing from the waves of the warp. Nothing but an Inquisitor with a deathwish and the dying gasps of her beloved, and the heart of the Emperor beating within her. She was alone, so utterly alone even with six Aquilans watching over her, and perhaps that was why he spared her.

All those other shards. Mortal. Joyous, mischievous, alive, young in a way she could never be young, frivolous and dainty and pretty. He had killed them all. Those who were cruel, a king clad in gold and crimson, a budding emperor with a tyrannical fist, those he would occasionally spare, just to gaze upon Him for a few moments longer. Inevitably, they would extinguish, snuffed out once more in this incarnation. They always died, she knew, she knew even as she relived the moments of the many girls he had slaughtered. Their eyes, reflected in his cold, unfeeling auramite, their screams, echoing through the corridors of the past and into eternity. So small, so fragile, and so utterly dead beneath his gaze.

He met them again, in the span of months after her recovery but before the Aquilan Shields could truly let go of their fear. They still hung about her, wandering meaninglessly, fussing over her every beck and call. Months had passed. Her investigation, slow and grueling, had led her, with stealth and trickery, to the heart of the storm. To the traitor Captain's own lair. Maulland. The dead world where a fallen prince had once lived in exile.

He met her, face to face, in the gaping emptiness between the dead earth of Maulland's primary moon, the grey and white of the snow sailing over her uniform. The moon itself had no name, although its inhabitants had taken to calling it the Priest-King, out of some last kind of spite for the exiled captain that had once lived upon the world. He had lived here, peacefully, in silence, in contemplation and in grief, until his hate brought him out to hunt. Until his loathing for his master's corpse and his master's throne drew him out, and he rampaged.

They had stood, immobile, and for a while she heard nothing but the empty howl of the storm.

'You are here to die.' Valdor said at last. There was no tone of inflection in his voice, no sign of regret. Only flat, cold victory. She had returned his words with a smile, and a nod.

'And you are here to slay me.'

The traitor captain had smiled then. It was a cold, insane smile, the smile of a large starving cat finally having a fresh meal. He will kill her and carve her apart, of that the Inquisitor had no doubt. So be it. She was, as always, ready to die.

He hated her, she knew. He hated all shards. Good. She hated him too. She expected to die.

'Of course.' he gestures in a curt bow, similar to the bows he had demonstrated countless times to his master when they were King and Servant. 'I did not think you were quite as arrogant as you may have your entourage believe. Where are your bodyguards, Inquisitor? Where are your troops? Have they abandoned you tonight?'

'They're preparing to slay you, I presume.' she chuckled darkly. She doubted if any had advanced as far as she, to the point of striking out against the very heart of his traitor kingdom. It was not his throne, but it was his heart, the King in Yellow's long years of ruminations and exile baked into the very snows of the planet. She wondered if he would suffer, maybe crack a little inside, if she declared Exterminatus upon the world and its inhabitants. She wondered if he would mourn. Certainly not mourning for the planet's residents, or even for himself, but for all the years and memories he had spent, and lost, there.

Valdor had tilted his head. 'Ah. You have questions.' So coldly monotone as ever, so pleasant, even when he lowered the blade. She wondered if he had been so kind upon Ararat.

She had advanced then, moving towards him without fear. She could sense the Aquilan Shields' anxiety through her headpiece, hearing their auramite sevros crackle, feeling them tense in anticipation. Lehievin drew in a sharp breath. The Shield-Captain was ready in position, waiting to snap the jaws of the trap closed, waiting only for her word. She did not give it.

'You know what we are here for. Your crimes. Your sins. Your treachery, captain-general.' she met his gaze, and did not let him drop it. 'The slaughter of your own brothers. High treason to the Throne. Rebellion against the Emperor. The sabotage of loyal Imperium defenders. The destruction of the Palace. Consorting with the dark gods. By the authority of my office, by the word of the Inquisition and Ordos Malleus, and by the power vested in me by His words, you are forfeit of this city. You will be taken to Holy Terra and tried in fair and open court. Your fate will be determined by your brothers, and by Lord Guiliman himself. May the Emperor have mercy on your wretched soul, captain-general."

Her words seemed to amuse him, in some broken, forgotten way. 'I see,' he said at last. 'And what makes you think I will obey your fickle office, when I have, by your own words, rebelled against the Emperor Himself?'

Her lips twisted into a thin smile. Harshly, she laughed, brutal and barking and laughing against the wind. He simply crossed his arms over the shaft of the Apollonian Spear and listened to her. 

'Because you know, Constantin.' she finally growled out. 'You know you can't win, not against six Aquilan Shields with teleporter beacons and a direct line to Terra's reinforcements. That's why I'm not going to lie down and wait for you to kill me, like all those other shards you've captured, Constantin. You hate them. You see them and you kill them on sight. Sometimes, the best outcome is for them to escape your grasp, hide away, rot the rest of their lives in oblivion, and never be found again. Cause when you capture one, you torture every drop of life from them, and make sure they're just as dead as Him when you're done. How truly pathetic of you, Constantin.'

Nothing, not even a shift of his posture.

'But do you want to know why I'm here, captain-general? Do you truly want to know?'

'Yes.'

'I am your executioner, Constantin. You have simply lived too long. Your execution is tonight, even if mine is too. We'll die together, Constantin. Me, the shard you called your master the last time, and you, the servant. There will be no shards after me, and I suppose none before me either.' None that could have harmed him and unsettled him. 

Thunder lashed in the distance. The storm whipped at him, driving jagged spikes of lightning over his auramte-clad features. The Apollonian Spear, always activated, grumbled in the dark. Its ornate carvings were encrusted with old blood, the blade gleaming dully in the gloom. 

'You are going to watch your bodyguards die, my master. Their blood will be on your conscience.'

She snorted.

'I am not your master, Constantin. And conscience? You dare speak of conscience? Merely look at what you've become, and dare to utter the word conscience? Go on, preach to me of conscience and loyalty, traitor. It was not I who betrayed His throne.'

For a long moment, he said nothing. For a moment he seemed to nearly recoil, as if this encounter had suddenly gone too far from his plans. 

'Surrender, captain-general.' she insisted. 'Kneel, and you will be dragged to Terra in golden chains. Refuse, and your corpse will be dragged to the Emperor in rags.'

'You are a fool if you think I can know fear, Inquisitor.'

'This is not about fear. This is about surrender. You cannot make a stand here.' There was not a trace of desperation in her voice now, but a trace of anger. Lehievin shifts from beneath his cloak, guardian spear in hand. Ophiel and Ashavar's names were engraved upon his breastplate. Two new names, to remember them. He no longer was thinking about the deeds that had earned them, merely the Custodes that had been sacrificed. His brothers. They were his brothers, and Valdor cut them to pieces. 'This is arrogance, captain-general. Madness. You, alone? You cannot face us. You have no armies. No weapons. No defenses. No allies. You have nothing left but yourself, standing here now.' Serenely, almost as if to comfort him, she smiled. 'And that's not enough. Surrender. Surrender, simply, and I'll treat you well. I'll be the only shard that will.'

Because, in some deeper, ancient portion, He loathed him too. He loathed him back, and His shards had always felt this hate. The sense of shattered loyalty and vengeance against the traitor captain.

For a moment, just enough for Lehievin to draw in three breaths, Valdor seemed to listen. If not precisely even think of accepting her offer, then to at least resign himself. For a moment, he looked almost like the broken thing he was, yielding to treachery because he knew no way out. The mind of someone without even a right to dream, and now having no other way but to scream soundlessly for eternity, crying its tears out for someone that did not know how to weep.

Had Valdor wept when the Emperor died? She found, with no great surprise, that she did not care. 

'You will die braver than most, Inquisitor.' he finally said. The Apollonian Spear, already kindled, guttered to life. Its aura, now streaked with red instead of blue, crackled against the vengeful storm. 'You remind me of a High Lord, so long ago in the past. I suppose you do not remember. That is alright. But for life to move onwards, the secret does not lie in the future, but in the past. Humanity's future is dead, Inquisitor. It is as dead as my master, rotting upon His throne. His past, however, is alive. It is what drives your fickle race, it is what keeps them alive, sloughing along just for one more day. You are nothing but His dreams from the past, still imprinting themselves on the present. None of you shards have a future, and none of you will have a past.' 

She watches the Apollonian Spear swing with some kind of daze. He moves towards her then, not aggressively, but the display of power was still blatantly naked. Something was moving in the snow and the storm, something was roaring that was not thunder. It was something dragged out of the past and torn from its grave, mangled memories tearing through a life that could not remember it. It was the growling of an ancient, dying beast roused from its slumber, uncoordinated and savage and so mindlessly hateful that they would have followed this crazed captain like a prophet.

'We have no future, you and I. Which is why I am telling you this now, so you may heed it, one last time, before your endless life extinguishes itself again, my Emperor. Rejoice, my lord.' 

Lehievin could wait no longer. He gave the signal to strike, even as their charge seemed to be frozen, hypnotized before Valdor as he steadily advanced towards her. Three Aquilans closed in upon him from the side, their guardian spears gleaming as they rose like  vengeful revenants from the grave and threw off the disguise fields ripping around them, teleporters furiously blazing as reinforcing Custodes descended upon the traitor captain. Lehievin pushed himself, shrugging past his lieutenant, auramite sevroes grinding as he sprinted, already-superhuman capabilities strained to the limit as he charged. He had to reach her before he did. He had to reach her before Valdor did....

The Apollonian Spear was hefted into its killing position.

In the heart of the storm and its wrath, where the rock was as black as oil and the thunder as hateful as storms, red-tinged helmets blazed from bronze armor, and began to advance. 

Somewhere, in the distance, was an eerily familiar, ragged laugh.

'Rejoice, my dear Emperor, and gaze upon the corpses you've betrayed. You are present once more at their very first engagement.'

As Lehievin finally closed the distance, and his spear scraped against the spine-jarring thrust of Valdor's killing strike, the thunder descended to earth.

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 7/23

What Am I Feeling Today?

Feeling relieved. I was able to resolve some things with financial aid so I’ll definitely be finishing my senior year. I was also given the charge of doing a forgiveness study for my father and I feel good about completing that. At work today I’ll have a meeting about when I can start residency and that whole process so I’m really excited! I so badly want to be in the ER! One of my friends from church also works at the same hospital as me and we plan on sharing faith together after work this week which I’m looking forward to♥️

TESTED & TEMPTED

Matthew 3:16 through Matthew 4:11

“As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.””

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭3‬:‭16‬-‭17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written: “ ‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’” Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.” Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’” Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭4‬:‭1‬-‭11‬ ‭NIV‬‬

1. What happened to Jesus after his baptism? What should you expect after your baptism?

He was led by the Spirit into the wilderness and tempted by the devil. I can’t expect the devil to come after me too, just because I’m saved doesn’t mean that he’ll give up on tempting me.

2. How was Jesus tempted to question his relationship with God? God's plan for him?

The devil came back at him with scripture, using the same tactic as he did with Eve (e.g., did God really say that?).

3. How has Satan tempted you with doubts/insecurity/fears since your baptism?

He has had me question my salvation. I know that I got made into a disciple, I know I confessed all the sins weighing on my heart, I know I forgave, I know that I took all these steps before getting baptized and yet I still have this nagging bit on the back of my mind of “are you sure? are you really saved?”.

4. How did Jesus use the Bible to fight temptation? How does the Bible expose Satan's lies?

Jesus used other scriptures to combat his lies. He know what the word was and got his strength from it. The Bible is the truth, there’s no getting around it. If we rely on that fully instead of what we think or feel, we’ll be solid and firm against Satan.

Ephesians 6:10-18

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.”

1. How might the devil scheme against you?

Temptations from my past. There are some things that I can look back to, missing certain people, certain times from my life. But I know we’re told not to look back and it’s my goal to keep my mind on the present and what God says.

2. What armor has God provided to keep you strong?

The belt of truth, breastplate of righteousness, feet fitted with the gospel, shield of faith, helmet of salvation, and sword of the spirit.

3. What is our only "weapon" against Satan (v. 17)?

The word of God is our only and greatest weapon against Satan. This further shows the importance of reading our Bible every single day because it is what protects us, if we keep His word on our hearts daily.

APPLICATION: Expect to be tempted and decide to be open about your struggles. Talk with another Christian today about your temptations and pray together