I am surrounded by screams from man and monster along with the sound of panicked horses as I am surrounded by incandescent light. The sun had set, we were in deepening twilight, the illumination is eye searing as my immediate surroundings are lit as if it was a scorching mid summer noon. The two charging trolls, having forced through the bushes, falter in their rush, wincing and trying to shield their eyes. Rushing forward, I find myself launching with frankly inhuman speed as I instinctively beat my wings, a fifty foot leap from the troll I just slew that terminates with my sandal clad feet impacting the chest of one of the creatures. I hit hard enough that it begins to topple and the resulting roar cuts to a strangled scream when I stab the blade of my sword in and out of its eye socket. It is a precise, unthinking motion, a flickering jab that punches a foot of steel through wet tissues and bone in the time it might take to blink one's eyes. Also I am smouldering, flames licking along my arms, my brightly hued plumage glowing and literally burning as I turn to parry a crude spear thrust to the side whilst I ride the twitching corpse to the ground.

At this point it is growing increasingly clear to me that my allies in this fight, apart perhaps from the downed Grigoria, are largely irrelevant, when I took over this body I seemingly inherited the ability to move and kill with horrifying ease. I am vaguely conscious of the downed knight clambering to her feet, her armour apparently undamaged from the impact of a boulder hurled by a moderately sized giant, though there is a stiffness to her motions.

The remaining troll is stronger than me though, taller, massively built, a greyish green skinned creature wearing rotting pelts, hairy and brutally featured. It, I have no idea as to the troll's sex, is wielding a weapon however, presumably trolls reason and think. I sense something fundamentally... wrong about it though, as if this is something that should not exist. I am intently dubious as to how far I should trust such feelings but for now I have a seven foot plus monster trying to kill me with a spear.

But it is half blind, I shift my footing, wings instinctively adjust to balance as I flow forward with weightless grace and flick my sword to clip away several fingers from the closest hand. The troll screams and flails its weapon in a broad horizontal sweep, when I block I am sent skidding several feet backward from the impact and am stopped as much by the flare of my burning wings to catch the air as I am by the scrape of sandal clad feet. Also my sword has buckled, left bent and ruined, I toss it aside before grabbing hold of my oponent's spear and performing an unfeasibly athletic skin that vaults over it. I draw my dagger mid air and reflexively slice a foot long and eight inch deep canyon across the monster's stomach before landing back upon my feet.

It roars again but seems barely slowed even as its stinking guts begin to spill, I lose my dagger as I counter the swing of its unmaimed hand with a stab only to find the weapon torn from my grasp after lodging in bone, so I kick at a knee. My feet are on fire as well it seems and the cracking of bone is combined with a scorching of flesh, as my foe reels I duck forward and slam a wing up and forward.

The impact shatters the troll's skull and sends it bowled over backward with a head distorted into a very different shape, eyes boiled from their sockets, a stink of unclean smelling cooked meat as it absolutely does not move further. Any doubts I might have had about my wings being strong enough to lift me are gone at this moment, apparently those feathery limbs are utterly, terrifyingly powerful, though I do ache vaguely where I struck.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, work to calm myself as I feel for... That. The light begins to dim and the flames playing across me fade.

When I open my eyes everyone is staring at me. Of course they are, I just killed four of the enemy with minimal help and am completely untouched, though my sword is a buckled ruin whilst I do need to recover the dagger and poleaxe. Grigoria is on foot and looks to have hurt herself when she was thrown from the saddle, though her armour seems untouched, she swings up her visor, seemingly less dazed than the other three. Perhaps she was not looking when I did whatever it was I did?

Then she bows. “Thank you for your aid Captain Alessandra, for answering our prayers. After your mundane arrival and speech I felt myself doubting you but you were obviously concealing your true might from us for our own safety.”

Which. Ahh. Hmm, I really need to know just what happens there, another deep breath as I calm myself, then I make a show of nonchalantly stepping over the the corpse of the last troll before retrieving my dagger, jerking it out of a meaty forearm then wiping it clean before sheathing the weapon. “I promised that I would assist you Dame Grigoria, though I am curious just what, from your perspective, you saw?”

I try my best to look not terribly interested as I then step over to retrieve the polearm, the other three are dismounting and closing. Markos actually speaks up first. “The moment my m- Dame Grigoria was struck down your halo became visible Captain Alessandra. It was like looking directly at the sun if the sun was a ring above your brow and you were wreathed in flame, your wings glowing. I can still see your halo in truth, it is a fading after-image burnt into my eyes. Also. Well you fought like ten knights despite being unarmoured and with mundane weaponry.”

Photios is rather less verbose. “You blinded everyone. Then killed the brutes, fuck it, before that you were the most dangerous thing I've ever seen.” Ioulia for her part just nods as she sets about retrieving javelins and crossbow bolts from the dead, blinking repeatedly, reaching up to rub her eyes with a leather clad hand then retrieving an axe. Our conversation from this point is punctuated with wet thwacks as she starts cutting off the monster's heads.

Grigoria tugs off her helmet now. “I will replace your sword of course. Then send you to meet my liege with my son and Ioulia to escort, if that is acceptable Captain Alessandra?”

“It is.” I reply. “But as I mentioned I know nothing of this world. Just what are trolls, what brings them to raid like this? I admit I am somewhat troubled at having slain thinking creatures without knowing what drives them.” I make an expansive motion toward the increasingly decapitated corpses, one of my wings flares out hugely to make the motion vastly exaggerated and emphatic. I did not do that deliberately.

The knight looks surprised at this and pauses in working her plate clad arm, I think the arm she landed on? “They are spawn of Druj. When men and women perform wickedness or carry out deceit it weakens the order of reality, despite our duty to further the cause of order and righteousness. Where we do not impose good upon the world it allows cracks to open and that evil can then manifest in things which are inimical to good. Trolls do not know love or laughter, they do not understand generosity or truth. They have low hungry cunning and lust only for destruction or pain, manifesting into existence in the wild places of the world as a result of human evil. They are far from alone.” She winces as something pops, also she is examining me closely.

“They are among the least of demons. Surely you have faced them before? Though perhaps not.” She seems to be reasoning out loud at this point and I see little reason to interrupt her. “You are. What are you exactly? You slew four of them without a scratch and without even using your fire directly.”

I try to be enigmatic. “Evil takes different forms upon different worlds. There was no shortage of evil where I last dwelt but no creatures such as this, they would have been irrelevant in the face of more direct human wickedness.” Which is no lie, though outside of the scale I doubt inter human warfare here is any prettier. I also remain rather sceptical as to the truth behind her statements though my impression is that she is being as honest as she knows with me.

Ioulia finishes her sullen decapitation, the axe blows quieten. It is time to return to the village it seems.