Amor Vincit Omnia
(Love Conquers All)
Part Three: Children of Heaven
"So insignificant, sleeping dormant deep inside of me
Are you hiding away, lost under the sewers?
Maybe flying high in the clouds
Perhaps you're happy without me
So many seeds have been sown in the fields
And who could sprout up so blessedly
If I had died, I would never have felt sad at all
You will not hear me say, 'I'm sorry'
Where is the light?
Wonder if it's weeping somewhere"
- Akira Yamaoka
"Room of Angels"
Just a heads-up, dear readers: this is one of the more M-rated chapters that I've written. Not because of sex scenes (that's next chapter! ;D) but for two reasons. The first is some sexual harassment (not as bad as the attempted rape in the final chapter of Part I, but still a potential trigger for sensitive readers) and then in the last part of the chapter, there is some extreme gore. Extreme even by Diablo standards. I'm just warning you all in advance!
Reviews, as always, are deeply appreciated. Thanks for reading, everyone!
Chapter Seven: Catharsis
The wizard hadn't seen him yet. He had his back turned, his elbows propped on the stone before him, staring out over the battlefield. One hand absently twirled his wand, trailing fine particles of ice dust.
Baal's heart was beating erratically. Time seemed to slow. When had he drawn his crossbow? It was loaded, of course. As if in a dream, he raised it, the crosshairs aimed at the back of Caesar's head. Somewhere inside him, a voice was screaming for him to stop, but it was drowned out by the pounding pulse in his ears.
He could not say what would have happened next if Caesar hadn't turned around. The older man's expression went from stunned to alarmed, before settling on a wary blankness.
"Hey," he said. "You're alive after all."
"Kinda throws a wrench in your plans, doesn't it," Baal sneered.
Caesar shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Baal. I didn't have any plans, except to survive this damned siege."
"Really? Then I guess it was just pure luck that you ended up getting exactly what you wanted."
"What I-"
"Oh, don't play dumb with me, mage! You've had your eye on Saiya since the beginning, and look what happens the moment I'm out of the picture. The worst part is, I actually trusted you. I trusted you to take care of her when I couldn't. I guess I learned my lesson."
A spasm of something suspiciously like guilt crossed Caesar's face, but vanished again almost instantly. "So," he said. "She told you about that, huh?"
"Yeah. She did."
Caesar snorted derisively. "I bet she didn't tell you that the only reason she came to me was because of what she saw in the mirror."
"Mirror?" repeated Baal, frowning. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
In answer, Caesar reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a handful of broken glass and shattered fragments of wood. Baal stared at it blankly.
"What is that?"
"It was a hand mirror that was enchanted to show you the love of your life when you look into it. She's had it since New Tristram, I think."
"That … explains a lot," Baal murmured. Like how she was able to find me in Müqeddas'das, when I went missing after the fight with Maghda. Or how she knew exactly where I was in Kulle's laboratory. So, then … that means I'm the 'love of her life' – or at least, I was at that point in time. What could she have seen to change that?
He looked at the man in front of him. Had it been his image that had appeared instead? Is that why Saiya had sought him out?
"What did she see?" he growled.
"You," said Caesar, "and another woman."
The Hunter's jaw actually dropped open in shock. "Who?" he demanded.
Caesar shrugged. "She didn't give me a name, just said that it was some old flame of yours. A fellow Hunter, apparently."
"Vera?"
"I said I didn't know her name."
Baal's mind was spinning, confused thoughts trying to catch up to each other like a cat after its own tail. He said, "But I never … I haven't seen Vera in months! Why would that show up in the mirror? I don't understand …"
"Who knows?" said Caesar. "Could be any number of reasons. A malfunctioning enchantment. Deliberate tampering. Saiya's own insecurities. But the important thing is that she did see it, and she thought you had betrayed her. That's why she came to me. She was hurt, and alone, and I was there."
The rage was slowly subsiding, the crimson tint ebbing away from the edges of his vision, and he remembered how violently he had reacted to finding Marion in bed with another man, how he'd shouted and thrown things and gone straight to the local tavern to fuck the first willing woman he found. He hadn't even known her name, but for half an hour, her body had soothed the sting of Marion's infidelity. Afterwards, he'd felt even worse.
Was that how Saiya was feeling now, he wondered. The poor girl, she'd looked absolutely devastated when she told him. She wasn't to blame, really. It had been a natural reaction, one that he doubted she would ever repeat. If she could forgive him for abandoning her, then he could do the same.
Caesar was a different story. He should never have let it happen. He should have known better. The mere thought of him putting his hands on her, kissing her, whispering endearments in her ear – it was intolerable.
"You stay away from Saiya," Baal rasped, pointing a shaking finger at the wizard. "I don't want to see you near her ever again. Do you understand?"
Caesar narrowed his eyes. "Are you really that insecure, Baal? You're going to forbid us from talking to each other? Are we schoolchildren now?"
"I'll do whatever the hell it takes to keep you away from my woman!"
The bastard actually had the gall to burst out laughing, and Baal could feel the itching again. He stood his ground as Caesar began to walk towards him, frost forming around his hands.
"Your woman? Gods, I wish Saiya was around to hear that little bit of chauvinism. She doesn't belong to you."
"Fuck you, Caesar."
"You know what I think, Baal? I think you're jealous that I was around to comfort her when you weren't. You're jealous that she depends on me, that she needs me in her life. That she wants-"
Baal hit him in the face before he could finish the sentence. It was a punch that Saiya would have been proud of, and it made a very satisfying crunch as it connected. Caesar staggered backwards, pressing the back of his right hand against his nose to staunch the sudden flow of blood. The temperature, already frigid, dropped by a few degrees.
The wizard's expression was murderous, and for one moment, Baal thought that he had finally gone too far, and was about to be turned into an icy statue. But to his surprise, Caesar tossed his wand aside and charged him instead. They went sprawling in a graceless heap, limbs tangling together as both fought for dominance. Caesar was briefly on top, but he had little experience in hand-to-hand combat, and Baal managed to flip him over with ease. Grinding his knee into the other man's stomach, he fastened his hands around Caesar's throat, choking him.
His opponent wasn't totally helpless, however, and Baal vision blurred as a booted heel came down on his recently healed leg. Distracted by the pain, he loosened his hold, and Caesar shoved him roughly away. He sat up, gingerly prodding his nose.
"Ow," he groaned. "I think you broke it."
"Good," snapped Baal. His lip was bleeding where a stray blow from the wizard's elbow had split it.
Caesar sighed. "Feel better?"
About to make a nasty reply, Baal paused with the startling realization that he did, in fact, feel better. The itch under his skin was gone, as was the red haze. It was as if the burst of physical violence had expunged the hatred from his heart, leaving only a strange peacefulness. He raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I do."
"I'm glad," Caesar said, earnestly.
"You … are?"
"Yes. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry, Baal. It was a rotten thing to do, I know that. I knew it at the time, too, but I wanted so badly to make her feel better. She was so … gods, if you'd seen her, you'd understand. It was like Kulle all over again. I couldn't bear it. But I swear on my mother's soul that I'll never touch her like that again."
Baal was beginning to develop a sneaking suspicion that all was not as it seemed. "Uh, what happened to 'she needs me in her life'?"
"I had to say something to make you hit me!" exclaimed Caesar, rolling his eyes. "I must admit, I admire your control. I almost thought you were going to start shooting before I'd even said a word."
"I was," Baal deadpanned.
"Ah. Thanks for changing your mind."
"So, let me get this straight," said Baal. "I was already furious with you, so your brilliant idea was to make me even angrier, pretty much guaranteeing that I'd try to kill you? That might be the dumbest scheme you've ever had."
"Well, it was either that or fall to my knees and beg you to forgive me, and it was obvious that you needed to blow off some steam. I didn't hurt you too much, did I?"
Baal snorted. "As if you could. I've known little girls who pack more of a punch. You'd better let me take a look at you, though."
Caesar removed his hand that was covering his face. There was blood smeared liberally over his mouth and chin. The bridge of his nose was already beginning to swell. Baal pinched it lightly, and he swore and slapped his hand away.
"Yep, definitely broken," the Hunter reported. "Sorry about that. The good news is, you were already so ugly that a crooked nose won't make a difference."
"It's crooked?" gasped Caesar, sounding horrified.
"No, I'm just fucking with you. It's fine."
"Oh." There was a slight pause, and then, unexpectedly, Caesar held out his hand. "Is there any chance we can still be friends?"
Baal climbed to his feet, then pulled the other man up as well. "When will you get it through your thick head?" he muttered. "We were never friends in the first place. Now, are you ready to go inside? I feel like I could sleep for a month."
The wizard retrieved his wand and his hat, which had fallen off in the scuffle. "Alright, I'm ready," he declared.
Rounding the corner, they froze midstride in dismay and disbelief. While they were arguing, the gate to the commons – the only way into or out of the lower levels – had been shut tight. They were locked out.
Saiya left Ghor to the task of watching over Francis and went to find a spare bed she could use. The rush of joy she had felt as successfully helping her friend summon the damu mnywaji had faded. She felt hollow: an empty seashell, or a tree with the heart rotted out of it. All she really wanted was to see Baal, but she had seen him slip out onto the wall, and she was determined to respect his present desire for distance. After all the pain she had caused him, it was the least she could do.
All of the cots were taken, so after a few minutes of aimless wandering, she curled up on a pile of grain sacks in the corner, chanting a quick mantra for warmth. It wasn't terribly comfortable, but she was so tired that she could have slept on bare stone.
Then, just as the world around her was beginning to fade away, a commotion across the room jolted her back to alertness. A group of soldiers was pushing the gate closed, while their superior officer shouted orders.
"What's happening?" she asked a guard who was standing nearby.
"The Stonefort was taken," he replied. "Those blasted hellspawn carriers just keep dropping demons onto the bulwark, and our men can't kill them fast enough. Commander gave the order to barricade the gate and fall back to the lower levels."
"What about the people who are still out there?" the young monk demanded. The expression on his face told her all she needed to know. Jumping up, she hurried over to the main door. There was a foot-wide gap still, but as she tried to squeeze through it, one of the men caught her by the arm and pulled her back.
"Ma'am, is isn't safe!" he cried.
"Please," Saiya begged, "you have to let me out! My friends are fighting … I can help them!"
"You're in our way, woman," grunted the one in charge – a sergeant, by the patch on his sleeve. "The order is clear. No one sets foot outside this gate, and nothing gets in. Now move, or I'll have you locked in the brig."
The soldier holding Saiya made to lead her away, and she twisted out of his grasp, using the momentum to swing him around and throw him into several his compatriots. They went down in a heap, clattering and clanking against each other. Again, she bolted for the slight opening, only to be lifted off her feet by the burly sergeant. He slung her effortlessly over his shoulder, ignoring the blows she was raining on his back, and began trudging away.
There was a piercing screech as Gawahir came swooping across the room. He buffeted the sergeant's face with his wings, scratching and clawing, all the while making sounds like an enraged kettle boiling over. The man, flailing around in an effort to protect his eyes, struck the raven hard with the back of his hand. Gawahir plummeted to the ground.
"No!" Saiya screamed. She elbowed her captor in the back of the head, though all she got out of it was a sharp ache as the protruding knob of bone made contact with his thick steel helmet.
The youngest of the men picked Gawahir up, dangling him by a leg. "Isn't this Lightfoot's bird?" he asked. "He won't be well-pleased."
"He's out on the wall," replied the sergeant, "so I doubt he'll have much to say about it. Good riddance, if you ask me. I don't like Hunters. Heard too many tales about them going rogue, slaughtering whole villages. At least with demons, you know what your enemies look like."
"What should I do with it, sir?" inquired the soldier, holding out Gawahir's limp body.
"I don't fucking care, Private. Chuck it in the loo, eat it, use the feathers to make a hat; I don't give a damn."
"No, don't!" Saiya cried, unable to stand the thought of Baal's beloved pet being thrown away as if he was a piece of rubbish. "Give him to me. Please."
The soldier began to obey, but his commanding officer stopped him with a raised hand. "Settle down and quit making a fuss," he said to Saiya, "and I'll let you have the dead bird back. Deal?"
From her ungainly position, she did a quick scan of the room. None of her friends were in sight, and it didn't seem as though anyone else was interested in the minor drama playing out in front of them. She was on her own. Realizing that pressing the short-tempered sergeant further would be a bad idea, she reluctantly nodded.
"Good," he said. "Come along, Private. The rest of you, get that damn gate closed, now!"
I hate the people here! Saiya thought moodily as she was carried, flour-sack style, down several increasingly steep and narrow flights of stairs. The sergeant made little effort to ensure her comfort, and several times her shoulders were scraped against the wall, or her head knocked into low lintels. Every now and then they passed by a man in the Keep uniform, or a servant woman, but for the most part the place was deserted. The hallways seemed to go on and on, twisting and turning in mazelike fashion until Saiya was thoroughly lost.
Just when she was beginning to wonder if this was the man's cruel idea of a joke, they arrived at a long corridor with a tiny, barred window at the end, through which a thin beam of moonlight cast its pale rays. On either side were rows of small cells, separated by stone walls. Each was equipped with a bucket and a pallet stuffed with straw, and nothing else, not even a bracket for a torch. The sergeant unlocked the nearest one, deposited Saiya on the mattress, and shut the barred door again with a loud clang.
"Now then, missy," he said, with a nasty grin. "Don't go anywhere! If you behave yourself, I may come back."
Saiya's only response was to spit on the floor by his feet. He leaned into the bars, close enough that she could smell his breath, and hissed, "You're lucky that I don't come in there and strip that uniform right off you. I'd show you what playing soldier will get you, bitch."
"That would be the last mistake you ever made," Saiya replied, her voice as cold and hard as midwinter earth. "I'd break your neck before you could even touch me."
The sergeant snorted and glanced dismissively up and down her body. "Hmph, well, you wouldn't be much fun anyway. Too skinny and flat." He laughed and strolled away, jangling his key ring tauntingly.
"S-sorry about that, ma'am," the younger soldier whispered, hastily shoving Gawahir into her outstretched hands. He scurried after his officer before Saiya could thank him.
Her first order of concern was Gawahir. Sinking onto the mattress (which was unpleasantly scratchy), she carefully examined the bird. To her relief, he was merely unconscious, and his wings appeared to be undamaged.
"Thank the gods!" she murmured, stroking his surprisingly soft breast. She was not especially fond of Gawahir, and the raven had shown equal disinterest in her, but they shared a common love for Baal, and that was reason enough to be glad of his survival. Besides which, she deplored the mistreatment of animals.
Her next thought was of exactly what to do about her predicament. She had no intention of waiting around for someone to come and let her out – assuming that they even remembered she was here. But she wasn't really worried about the actual escape; the cell she was in had been constructed with ordinary humans in mind. A mild blast of the bell would be enough to free her – or even easier, she could simply warp out, though she had to admit that she would relish the property damage that accompanied the former option. She was more concerned with what to do afterwards.
If she broke out now, the best case scenario involved her wandering around the lower-level halls, possibly for hours, until she either ran into someone who was disposed to help her, or found her own way back to the commons. At worst, she would encounter the same sergeant who had put her here in the first place. And as incensed as she was at the unfair treatment she had received ever since her arrival, she would feel terrible if her continuous defiance caused trouble for her friends.
In the end, she decided to spend the remainder of the night in the cell, and leave when she awoke in the morning, provided that no one had come for her. Her heart longed to be out on the wall, fighting by Baal's side, but it seemed that Fate had other plans. Even if she somehow made it to the main gate without being noticed, there was no way that she could open it without risking the lives of everyone within the Keep. She would just have to trust in the gods to keep her beloved safe.
Removing her heavy boots and steel breastplate, she stretched out on the pallet, but quickly decided that it would be impossible to sleep on. The bedding was, whether by design or by oversight, several inches too short, and consequently her heels rested on the bare stone. There was neither pillow nor blanket. It stank of sweat and urine, and she didn't even want to think about its former occupant.
With a groan, she got up and moved to the corner, sitting with her back against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. The position reminded her of Baal. He had changed so much since they first met. Or perhaps, she mused, what she had taken for change was actually his true self peering out through the cracks in his hardened exterior.
"Oh, my sweet love, I've been such a fool," Saiya whispered, burying her face in the crooks of her elbows as tears began to well up in her eyes. "Such a miserable, petty fool. I've driven you away, and now I'm all alone, and I miss you so much."
But she was not alone. There was a tiny flicker of life within her, precious and fragile, and as long as it continued to grow, she would never be truly alone. She placed a palm flat on her stomach, feeling the warmth even though the chainmail of her tunic.
"I'm here, little one. I love you. The world out here is cold, and dangerous, and sometimes not a very friendly place, but it's also very beautiful. I think you will like it. When you are born, I'll take you to the temple where I grew up, and we'll say a prayer at the head monk's grave. And someday, when you're old enough, we'll travel the world together, and I'll show you the river where your father and I first met, and the city of Caldeum, and the great desert as vast as the ocean. And I'll tell you stories, lots of stories, all about my adventures and the friends I made. And you'll see that even though life is often hard, it can be wonderful, too … and well worth living."
She continued talking, a mixture of memories and promises and desires all pouring forth until her voice cracked and grew hoarse and her eyelids drooped shut with weariness. In the wee hours of the morning, while the refugees huddled fearfully together in the darkened rooms above, while the guards sharpened their swords and said their goodbyes, while the men trapped outside fought and bled and died, Saiya slipped peacefully into the world of dreams.
Never in his life had Caesar been so glad to see the first blush of the sun's light staining the horizon. He drew in a deep breath and braced himself on the battlements, closing his eyes, feeling the wind sting his cheeks and whip through his hair.
"Alright there, mage?" Baal asked. "Not going to keel over on me now, are you?"
"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction," the wizard replied, though his voice was weak. The arcane reservoir that he had labored for weeks to rebuild had been completely drained again over the course of the night. At the present moment, even the simplest spell was beyond his abilities.
He wasn't the only one worse for wear. The thirteen men grouped around them were the only survivors, out of several hundred troops who had been stationed in the Stonefort or Skycrown when the gate was closed. The walltop was strewn with bodies, some laid out over a wide area where a pitched battle had taken place, others piled unceremoniously at chokepoints. Today, while Azmodan's armies gathered themselves for another assault, the weary men of the Keep would work to clear away the corpses, throwing the demons from the walls and burning their own dead. The beacons, which had served to direct and unify the soldiers, would now be used as funeral pyres.
Baal nudged him in the side, jerking his head towards Commander Calderos, who was embarking on what sounded like a bizarre mixture of congratulatory speech and somber oration.
"Right, my lads," he said, pacing back and forth with his hands locked behind his back. "I'd say you fought like demons, but as we've seen tonight, that metaphor is no longer appropriate. We are still standing, while they are providing a nice carpet for our rather bare walls. Now make no mistake; this was not our victory. In case you haven't looked, our foe hasn't gone anywhere. We lost our right hand tonight. Azmodan clipped his toenails. They will come again, and next time it will be even harder, and faster, and bloodier. But we will not fail! Bastion's Keep will stand firm!"
A ragged cheer rose up from the men. Caesar muttered, "I may hate his guts, but I have to admit, he knows how to talk."
"Mm," grunted Baal, seemingly unimpressed.
"Now," Calderos continued. "You are all relieved from duty for the next twelve hours. Go inside, get some food, some sleep, relax a bit. We'll need you at your best come nightfall. Dismissed!"
"That means us too, I suppose," Caesar remarked. "Coming, Baal?"
But his friend didn't answer. He was standing stock still, eyes glued to where Calderos was conferring with the officer who had opened the gate. Caesar, tuning into the conversation, knew at once what the trouble was.
"So, Varlan," the Commander was saying, "what's this about a wench giving you trouble?"
"She was acting like a madwoman, sir!" exclaimed the Sergeant. "Dressed like one of us, armor and all. She tried to sneak out onto the wall as we were closing the gate, and started fighting with the boys when we stopped her. She managed to sprain Anthony's wrist, and gave Dayle a black eye."
"Oh, gods," whispered Caesar. "Please tell me that he's talking about some other madwoman with hand-to-hand combat skills and the stubbornness of a whole stable of donkeys."
"Shut up," Baal snapped. "I can't hear what he's saying."
"I hope you taught her a good lesson," said Calderos.
Varlan puffed his chest out. "Yes, sir. She's locked up down below, awaiting … proper punishment. I thought I might give you the satisfaction, sir. I believe you've had some difficulty with the bitch before."
"Oh, is it that one? The skinny chit who insisted she was a warrior? Yes, I believe she could do with a good lesson in how to respect her superiors."
Caesar shot a quick glance at Baal. The Hunter was shaking with rage, a glazed look in his eyes. As he began to reach for his favorite crossbow, Caesar did the only thing he could think of: he poured the last few drops of his magic into a light freezing spell. It would last only a few seconds, but that was all he needed.
"Let me handle this," he muttered in Baal's ear, and strode over to Calderos. "Excuse me, Commander. The lady in question is a close friend of mine, and she's currently-" He lowered his voice to a near whisper, desperately hoping that his next words would be inaudible to Baal. "-in the 'family way', if you know what I mean. I would consider it a great personal favor if you would kindly grant her a pardon. I'd be happy to reimburse you for your time, and the damages to your men."
Calderos waved him off. "I'm not interested in your money."
In the background, Baal was beginning to thaw. Hurriedly, he went on. "Well then, perhaps in light of the services I have rendered, you might-"
"Can you guarantee her good behavior from now on?" inquired the Commander.
"Yes! Oh, certainly," Caesar lied. "Without a doubt."
"Splendid. Varlan, give him the cell key and arrange for someone to accompany him."
With a sulky grunt, the Sergeant removed a key from his ring and slapped it aggressively into Caesar's palm. The wizard bowed, his polite mask never faltering even for a moment. Ten years in the courts of Xiansai had honed his skills at diplomacy to perfection.
Spinning around, he grabbed Baal by the sleeve and dragged him forcefully away. As soon as they were out of view, Baal jerked his arm away and said, with real venom in his tone, "What the fuck was that pathetic display? Did you not hear what they were saying?"
"I heard," Caesar replied grimly.
"Then how could you stand there and fucking smile at that shit-eating bastard? I thought you had more of a backbone than that, mage."
"And what would you have done, may I ask?" Caesar retorted. "Rushed in half-cocked and start a fight you couldn't have hoped to win? Did you even realize that your quivers are empty? My 'pathetic display', as you so nicely put it, got us the key to Saiya's cell without causing a bloodbath."
"Caesar, they were talking about raping her!" Baal spat. "They deserve to be slaughtered without mercy."
"You don't know for sure that that's what they meant," the wizard reasoned. "And anyway, they didn't, nor will they get a chance to. I think that Saiya's comfort is a lot more important right now that your revenge. Shall we go find her?"
"I'll go find her," said Baal.
Caesar couldn't help the flash of hurt that crossed his face, but he swallowed his pride and nodded, holding out the key. "Of course. Sorry. I forgot for a moment."
"Look," Baal sighed. "It's nothing personal, alright? I have no intention of trying to control your friendship with her, or anything like that. Okay? It's just that I haven't gotten a chance to apologize to her yet, and I kinda wanted to be alone for that."
"Oh," Caesar mumbled, feeling royally foolish. "Yeah, that makes sense. Well, I guess I'll see you later – unless you manage to break your neck falling down the stairs or something."
"Don't spend all your money at the wishing well," said Baal. With a sardonic wave, he turned to go, and then stopped and looked over his shoulder. "By the way … you did a good thing tonight."
Caesar frowned in confusion. "You mean just now? All I did was prevent you from being an idiot."
"Don't play innocent. I saw you help Tyrael when he was surrounded. If you hadn't, he might have died. I presume he can die, since he's a mortal now. Can angels die? I've never thought about it before."
A chill struck Caesar, so strongly he thought his heart had stopped. Memories ran like lightning through his mind: white skin, so pale and luminous in the dark that it looked like milk-colored glass. Wide eyes, frightened eyes, the rattle of chains, a shattered aching voice, whispering, 'Please … let me go.'
"Yes," he rasped. "Angels can die."
Baal was staring at him with a very odd expression on his face. "You okay?" he asked. "You don't look so well."
"I'm just tired," Caesar mumbled. "Go on, go find your girl."
Baal didn't look convinced, but to Caesar's great relief, he didn't pry any further. Somehow, he managed to keep his composure until after the Hunter had gone. Then, once he was alone, he buried his face in his hands and wept.
Saiya was awoken by a loud and persistent individual who seemed hell-bent on doing their best imitation of a rooster. Deeply annoyed, she opened her eyes, expecting to find herself being mocked by another guard. Instead, she saw Gawahir, strutting back and forth in the middle of the cell, crowing with all his might.
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" he squawked, pronouncing each syllable in a ludicrously choppy fashion. "Get up, lazybones! Cock-a-doodle-"
"Alright!" Saiya grumbled, swatting at him. He hopped out of her range.
The first thing she observed (after taking note of how stiff and sore she felt) was that the light level in her cell had changed dramatically. When the Sergeant had left, taking the only torch with him, it had been almost too dark to see. Now, everything was dull and grey.
"Must be morning already," she mumbled, prying herself out of the corner with a massive effort. "Gods, I hope the Keep didn't fall during the night … though it seems like there would be more demons around if that were the case."
She put her boots and armor back on, wincing at how cold they had gotten during the night. Then, approaching the cell door, she lapsed into a state of calm, in preparation for summoning the bell.
Immediately, a foul presence fell over her psyche like a shadow. Chills ran up her spine. There was something monstrous in the vicinity, a malicious energy so strong that she was shocked she hadn't sensed it earlier.
"Gawahir," she whispered, "I want you to scout the area and tell me what you find. I know that you'd rather be with Baal right now, but I'm trying to find my way back to him, and I need your help to do that."
"As you wish," croaked the raven – perhaps the politest thing he'd ever said to her. With a self-important swagger, he squeezed between the bars and fluttered off down the corridor, leaving Saiya with a difficult decision to make.
"Should I wait here until he gets back?" she asked the empty room. "Or should I go now, before whatever the hell is down here finds me. If I break down the door, I'll make a lot of noise, which might attract attention. But if I wait, and it does find me, I'll be trapped with nowhere to go. Ugh … what would Baal do, I wonder?"
In the end, she opted to wait ten minutes. When the time was up and Gawahir had not returned, she closed her eyes and listened for the echo of the bell. The resulting shockwave blasted a neat hole in the front of the cell, steel bars bending outwards in a pattern reminiscent of flower petals opening to the sun. Saiya stepped cautiously out, glancing around before padding out into the maze of hallways and rooms that comprised the lower levels.
She was hopelessly lost before she even began to walk. It had been impossible to keep track of the route that they had taken the previous night, and she had only the most general idea of where to go: up. And so she set off, opening every door that she came across in search of a staircase. She found storerooms full of crates and barrels, dormitories, and even a forge with molten metal in a huge vat, but no stairs, and no one to ask for directions.
Just as she was ready to scream with frustration, a strange sound caught her attention, drifting eerily down the passage she was in. Half-moan, half-gurgle, it was barely distinguishable as human. Saiya started towards the source of it, brandishing the torch she had taken earlier, the only weapon she had.
The smell hit her first, a thick stench of blood mingling with decaying flesh and an acrid odor, like burning hair. Steeling herself, she peered around the corner.
The sight that met her eyes made her vomit instantly, doubling over as she emptied her stomach onto the floor. She now knew why she hadn't encountered any people during her search: they had all been slaughtered by whatever had passed this way. But it wasn't the mere fact of the carnage that horrified her so much as the condition of the bodies.
They were partially eaten. Limbs and heads were missing, abdomens torn open and entrails scattered. Puddles of some corrosive acid dotted the floor, and the corpses that had come in contact with them had dissolved into a reddish sludge.
Worst of all, though, were the men who were not dead, but who could no longer be counted among the living, either. It was their groans of agony that Saiya had heard. She saw one soldier with the skin melted from his face, and another who had been bitten clean in half, his hands scrabbling uselessly to hold his intestines together.
Her instinct of preservation was shrieking at her to run as fast as she could, but she could hear the unknown creature moving around in the room at the end of the corridor. If she could surprise it, she thought, a few blasts of the bell might be enough to kill it before it could do any more damage. She dreaded to imagine what would transpire should it make its way up to the commons. Holding her breath – partly out of fear and partly to avoid inhaling the awful stench of death – she crept towards the open doorway, flinching with every squelching step.
Past the arch was the larder, where the year's worth of supplies for the Keep was stored. Cured meat hung from the rafters, live hens were kept in crates, vegetables and potatoes were piled high in bins. And in the center of the space crouched a bloated demon. It stood on four legs like a cow, but had humanoid arms as well, though they were too short and stubby to be very effective in combat. The feature that troubled Saiya was a massive mouth in the middle of its obese gut. It was large enough to swallow her in a single gulp if she strayed too near it.
She thought she had been quiet enough, but as she edged closer, hoping to get within range to strike at the monstrosity, it turned around, alarmingly swift for its bulk. Tiny, malevolent eyes regarded her from slits in its metal helm.
"Hello, little maggot," the demon rumbled, in a voice clogged with gore. "Have you come to satiate my hunger?"
Saiya gulped down the bile that was rising in her throat. "No," she said. "I've come to kill you."
Hideous laughter rumbled forth, and the great belly wobbled with it. "Do you know who I am, little maggot? I am Ghom the Glutton, Devourer of Souls, Master of the Feast. I serve the mighty Azmodan. I am-"
"About to be a pile of stinking fat," said Saiya, dropping into a fighting crouch.
With a snarl of rage, Ghom charged.
