From Arisa Raviede, A Booke of Hystorickal Seraphs, or Angeles of Olde

(Editor's Note: I've rendered the original text into modern spelling, but kept the syntax of the High Speech. The High Speech is seldom used nowadays, but in the most formal books of the Selucarian Empire, it was much in evidence.)

Here followeth the recent tale of Lisanne, a most worshipful angel what cleaved unto Sister Lavaine, who was full made Priestess of Sarapis under his Imperial Majesty, Nicator of Seleucar. Short hard after the state of Shallam did give up resistance to Seleucar, did Sister Lavaine hear tidings of war. As the book saith, many were hearts glad that the lord called them to smite Ashtan, as many were their grievances and complaints against that black city, and yea, many were that city's offenses against them. And yet did Sister Lavaine make dole that she should ever fight against so great a city as Ashtan, for she hove from Ashtan, and despite that she had joined Seleucar and her lord Emperor Nicator, yet did she love Ashtan well. And her heart was full sore that she should go against Ashtan, and so too was that of her angel, Lisanne.

And in marching and prayer the days went, and many hymns and prayers did Sister Lavaine sing, and much trepidation had Lisanne, for fear that Sister Lavaine might needs fight her friends of old, from the city of Ashtan. But despite prayers did the day of battle come, and of rushing and fighting there was much. And Sister Lavaine took up a great mace, and did great deeds of arms, and her angel Lisanne with her, and together they traced and traversed, striking many sad strokes, and many hard brunts did Sister Lavaine take, and many did she heal, or other she had died. And she said, Sarapis may you have mercy on me, for that I might have the power to heal me of my wounds, or I shall die. And lo she did heal herself and was whole, so that all marveled, How can this priestess so straitly heal her wounds, that even an hundred knights all to-slashing cannot slay her cold? And likewise did all the priests and paladins on the field, that none might slay them, but instead that all their wounds might close as soon as they were suffered. And slowly did godless Ashtan lose the field, and then the king of Ashtan made great woe, and cried Sarapis! Woe that I ever demanded battle on these bloody plains, for now I shall die on these bloody plains! And then the king waxed wood wroth, and he spake, sithen I shall die, wit you well I shall bear many a noble knight to hell alongside, and too I shall destroy mine enemy Emperor of Seleucar!

And Sister Lavaine did see the king of Ashtan mount a great charge, so fierce that it were like unto the crashing mountain that comes of a tiny pebble's fall, and she did say unto Lisanne, Go forth, my holy angel, let give tiding to my lord of this charge, and warn him, that he may meet it, for an he meet it not, surely he shall be slain. And by no mean would I see my sweet lord be killed on these bloody plains. And so Lisanne cried, I would do as ye list, but that I fear ye shall die if I leave thee. Fear ye not ever for me, but go ye to save my lord, for my life is as wood, but his is as diamond. And Lisanne said, O Sarapis defend me, for an I do not this one thing, it were as well I had never left the Sacred World.

And straight Lisanne yede, and many strokes did she trade each for other with many dolorous knights of Ashtan, and twice nearly was she cut from the world by the dread scythe of the Chaos Spirit known only as Angelbane. And Lisanne reached Nicator as he encountered full hot with the black knights of Ashtan, heedless of the body of knights that charged full on him. And Lisanne cried, Turn around, noble emperor, for your death rushes up ahind thee! And then did Nicator wheel his horse, and did wit that his foe charged upon him with feutred spear, and then great effort did he make, and mustered his men to encounter upon both sides. And Emperor Nicator was sore pressed. Then did he raise up his golden staff, and cry, For Seleucar! For Sarapis! For Light! And then his men waxed wonderly mighty, and dealt strokes so fierce as if they were each five men, and the Ashtan knights were hard pressed on their side. And the king of Ashtan cried, Who are these knights that fight as they were five for each one?

And Lisanne said, For Seleucar do I battle! And of Seleucar and the Sacred World do I come! And Lisanne fought the knights of Ashtan as she had been a rock and they waves, for an ever they came nigh, she shattered them and kept them from the Emperor. And as the sun fell half down the sky, she fought ever on, and did many great deeds of arms, and slew many knights. And at length she encountered with the king of Ashtan, and then they thundered together with such a force that all men marveled, Look how the angel and the king strike sparks from swords! And they fought one against another, sometimes here, sometimes there, and each traveled the field and did great deeds of arms, but ever were they pressed back together. And Lisanne said, Wit you well, king of Ashtan, the fates have commanded our strife. And the king taunted back to her, Fair you speak, angel, but why hath your halo died out in the affray? And he made mock of her in diverse fashion. Then they fought hard together, ramping and scraping, and dealt such heavy blows that their blood rained on the ground, and dealt such loud strokes that all attended their battle with wonderment.

And in the final clash of the embroilment, Lisanne smote the king so hard that her sword did cut through his helmet and split his brain-pan, and he fell lifeless to the ground. And Lisanne fell too, for she was sore wounded, but Seleucar had won the field, and the army of Ashtan was in disarray, and they fled in rout. And Lisanne said, How is it that I bleed? For all know that angels bleed not. And priests came to her and said, Be quiet, pray to Sarapis for deliverance. And Lisanne said, How is it that my halo has died, for is not the halo the sign of the Sacred Realm? And the priests said to her, Be quiet, pray to Sarapis for deliverance. And Lisanne said, Where is Sister Lavaine, that I love, who I am sworn to protect? And the priests said, Be quiet, pray to Sarapis for deliverance, for Sister Lavaine has fallen in battle, and where to-fore thou would have returned to the Sacred World straightaway, for thy greater love of Sarapis and Seleucar thou hast been made human. And then Lisanne was torn between grief and rejoicing: grief for her lost Lavaine, grief for her lost holiness, rejoicing for that she might live and die in Seleucar, sovereign state of all Sapience, for which she gave up of her seraphic soul.