Chapter XXXV. Celebrating Victory

Valen answered the knock almost immediately, opening the door with a faint flush to his cheeks.

"Might we speak?", Chama asked with a smile.

Recognizing his own phrase, he moved back from the entrance with a smile, gesturing her in. He had been cleaning his armour, she saw.

"What did you want to discuss, my love?", he asked, pulling her a chair in front of the small table where he settled to resume his work on his armour.

"Nothing really specific, Granduc. It's just that… that it's over. I'm tired, but I felt… felt like having some company. Your company, in fact."

Smiling warmly, Valen bent over the table and armour to kiss her forehead.

"I'm glad you do. I was polishing my armour to distract myself from you; I thought you would be too tired to bear my presence tonight, but I very much wanted to spend the evening with you."

She smiled and jutted her chin at the suit of mail lying on the table. "How's your armour? Not too badly damaged?"

"Badly enough. I'd like Rizolvir to take a look at it, even though it is not possible at the moment. I do not think I would trust any other smith with such a suit of armour."

"It's too bad Rizolvir ended up in Cania. He didn't deserve to spend eternity in Hell. I wish I could have taken him out of there."

"I think he wasn't unhappy about his new location, Chama. His only passion in life was the working of steel, and as long as he has that, I don't think he'll be unhappy in Hell."

Chama sighed. "I wish it were that easy. I'm pretty sure Mephistopheles will come by the knowledge that it's Rizolvir's supplies that made us survive until we found the Knower of Names. I hope Mephistopheles won't make him pay for that."

Closing her eyes, she sighed and tried to smooth the frown from her forehead. Valen's silence, in front of her, marked his pause in polishing his armour.

"You take too much on your shoulders, my love," the tiefling protested. "Rizolvir supplied anyone willing to pay his fees with whatever they needed. I don't think he'll be deemed to have made such a difference for us during our stay in Cania. The dragon innkeeper was much more accommodating to us, thanks to your silver tongue and your supply of rogue stones."

"Maybe I do take too much upon myself," Chama sighed. "Maybe that's what it is to be a Hero. To carry the world on your shoulders."

"You can't, my love. We are just mortals. We will help wherever we can, but we can't carry the world on our shoulders. The world has to care for itself for the most part."

"You know, that's why I sent Mephistopheles back."

Valen looked up to her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I never thought I'd understand all this druidic stuff about balance the elders spewed out to me when I was young, but unexpectedly I find that I do. When Mephistopheles finally stood before us on the Prime, I considered killing him outright – either with sword and spell, or with his True Name. But I'm a spellcaster, and my spellcraft gives me a hunch that an arch-devil cannot be vanquished definitively. I have an intuition that, eventually, he would have managed to refocus his essence or something. That is why I did not order you, Aribeth and Somnus to finish him. I also thought of ordering the devil with the power of his True Name to pursue good instead of evil."

Valen stared at her. "That thought certainly wouldn't have crossed my mind. A good arch-devil? What an alien concept."

"Yes. I tried to evaluate the consequences ever since the Knower of Names told us his True Name. It would mean the eighth level of Hell would be turned into something else entirely, that its ruler would be utterly transformed, that the devils inhabiting it would suddenly find themselves in a place where they cannot torture souls any longer, that the Heavens would have an unexpected ally in the middle of their enemies' territory, and so on. I came to the conclusion that I could not evaluate the effects such a change would have on the global state of things. I had no idea if it would come to more good or bad in the end, and what unexpected consequences it could cause. So I thought it unwise to order such a thing. I do not have a god's wisdom to ponder such great problems."

"So you ordered him back to Cania, the most conservative order to give him with his True Name."

"Yes. The Blood Wars are an ancient but efficient mechanism that controls the dynamics of the forces of Evil and holds a delicate but resilient balance between the Hells and the Abyss. Exiling Mephistopheles forever to Cania was the action most unlikely to bring a number of grave unexpected consequences. Besides, Ao himself ordered the demons and devils to inhabit the Hells and the Abyss, and to keep out of the Prime. I thought that, if I did not possess enough wisdom to take a decision alone, I could follow the guidance of the Overfather and act accordingly with his decrees."

Valen nodded. "I think the Seer was right, Chama. You possess more wisdom than you give yourself credit for."

Chama shook her head. "I only have enough wisdom to recognize my failings."

Valen smiled. "You are entitled to your opinion, my lady."

She grinned at that and he resumed cleaning his armour. They sat together in companionable silence for a while, giving Chama ample occasion to observe him. His hands were tall and strong, yet delicate and assured in their moves as he polished the metal of his armour. He had lowered his head over his work, and his hair, damp from his bath and of a darker red than usual, was bound at the nape of his massive neck by a leather stripe. Peculiar horns she had nevertheless grown accustomed to protruded from his head. His strong neck and broad shoulders played under the linen clothes he wore, rolling as he flipped his armour over.

He was physically imposing. The very air around him seemed filled with his powerful and commanding presence. Still, all his physical strength and impressive self-mastery did not scare her anymore; if anything, he was stronger and more imposing now that his body had been hardened by their adventure through Hell. Sometimes she wondered how it could be that her fear had so utterly disappeared, but she did not question it overmuch. She was content with the fact that the contrast of his firm muscles and heart-breaking tenderness, put her mind and body at peace. She could relax and abandon herself in his embrace.

She felt safe in his arms.

He had held her amorously only twice. The Hells were not a place that was exactly inviting for loving embraces. But tonight, in this quiet inn after the storm had blown over, Chama wanted to celebrate their freedom from Hell in a way she had barely dared to dream of.

She wanted to be safe in his arms tonight.

"Valen," she said quietly, a fierce blush heating her face, ears and neck.

"Yes, Chama?" He looked up at her, probably alarmed by the tone of her voice.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

Valen's eyes flickered down to his armour, which he put down carefully before looking up again to scrutinize her face closely.

"I will, my love. If that is truly your wish."

"It's my wish, Valen. When we first met and began to travel together, you forced me to face you as I would have faced a human male – taller, bigger, stronger, and physically over-powering. I was forced to face you, and soon enough my attraction to you, and you did not offer the comfortable safety of weakling's subservience and infinite softness. You are a strong and proud man, and even if you always defended me in battle, I knew you had the potential for anger and violence.

"But it didn't matter.

"I was enthralled. At first I thought it was fate's punishment for my actions, to fall in love with a man who scared me because he could easily dominate me physically.

"But then one night you had a nightmare. I looked the demon in the eye, Valen. And I was not afraid. I knew that you would wake up and be horrified by what happened.

"You woke up and were horrified.

"That is when you forced me to face something else: my freedom from those men that still terrified me even though they are but dust in their graves for centuries now. My freedom was right before me. It was in you: a man I loved, who was strong but good, who forced me to face my fears even as he would protect me. And from that moment, I started to believe the Seer who said I could be redeemed. I could be redeemed. I could love. I could be free again.

"I will tell you what I wish tonight, Valen. I wish to let go of the past, what was done to me and what I did to others. I want to feel safe, to feel beautiful, to be loved. And I wish to be free from those demons from my past. Will you… will you show me? Will you set me free?"

Valen, his throat tight from the emotion, stood and pulled her up in his arms.

"If you can come to me, my love, it is that you have already freed yourself," he answered, gently caressing her back. "I will only be with you when you cross the door."

She clung to him tightly and he held her a long time before stepping back.

"I think it would be more… discreet if we stayed in your room, Chama. Aribeth and her elven ears will hear that you share my room."

Chama blushed, but nodded. Valen quickly set his armour on its stand in the corner of the room, before he grabbed his half-unmade pack and slung it over his shoulder. Chama was still blushing when he took her hand and accompanied her to her own room.

ooooo

Valen followed her inside and quietly closed and bolted the door shut behind them. Aside from her equipment neatly piled in a corner, the room was empty of any personal belongings. Chama yawned suddenly, making Valen smile. Taking her hand again, he thought that maybe now was a good time for a little exposure of his heart…

"My love, it is my turn to tell you something. When I met you, I was forced to face myself too. Chamaedaphne Indiwasi, you have forced me to be a man. The Seer forced me not to be a beast, but you forced me to be a man. When you trusted me to be more than I was, to have convictions, to yearn for an ideal, to… to love you, I found that I could not be less than what you expected me to be.

"The demon within was tempted by the elf's blood. The man was confused and angry around you, because you always kept me off balance. But you were so really bright. Bright, proud, defiant, you stood up to me and held your ground no matter what. And you did not judge me. You inquired about my past, but you never looked down on me or let me intimidate you.

"You accepted me with my failings and my demon blood. You knew what I had been through. I was comfortable around you, I could relate to you. I loved you.

"And then it was time to face the Valsharess. For the first time in my life I was given a future that was mine to choose and that offered infinite possibilities. But the only choice I considered was the one which would lead me to be with you, and when you said there was only one more battle left, I thought you knew and accepted me by your side.

"I wanted to tell you that I loved you since then, but it was some time until we had some privacy. And now I would be free with you tonight. Free of the demon who keeps silent in your presence. I am at peace when you are here… and my life is complete when I hold you. Can I hold you now? Will you make me at peace?", he murmured.

Moving closer to him, she put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to hold her. He took her in his arms, and the blessed quiet of her embrace overcame him. But then she murmured something in his ear.

"Oeskathine the Demonwrestler."

Valen startled as his True Name's magic coursed through him. He felt tied to Chama's voice in a weird way at that moment.

"My True Name. How do you… intend to command me?"

He looked at her suspiciously. He was at her mercy and, even though he trusted her, it was not a position he relished finding himself in, no matter the circumstances.

"I hereby free you of the infernal taint."

He tilted his head, not quite sure he had heard correctly, and wondering what kind of command that was. But suddenly he felt something deep within himself. His eyes went wide and an electrical current ran through him violently. Dimly he felt Chama's hands slowing his fall and steadying him through a seizure. A black and oily sheen slithered through his body and over his skin, before finally hovering higher and away, leaving no trace of its presence.

Chama held a limp Valen on his knees, worried he would fall head first on the floor if she let go of his arms. But then he opened his eyes.

There was something different about him. His eyes were still the same colour, his features were still the same – he still carried horns and a tail – but there was something altered within. The fierce rage barely held in check and the otherworldly aura were gone.

"I… I can't believe it!", he exclaimed. He pulled back to his feet, looking down at himself with incredulity and bringing a hand up to check if he still had his horns. A smile flared on his face slowly, and it warmed Chama's heart.

"The taint… it's gone! I feel… I feel wonderful! I feel human!"

He laughed joyously and lifted her off to spin her up in the air. She yelped at first, but soon joined his happy laughter. It was good to hear Valen laugh so, without heaviness of heart or holding back.

"Thank you! Thank you for this wonderful gift!"

Setting her back down on the floor, he looked down at her.

"Does it really feel that different?", she asked curiously. "I'd hate to lose my dark Valen. I like my men brooding after all."

He chuckled with an easy smile; he marvelled at how naturally it had come to his lips. There was no raging demon holding him back from amusement or happiness.

"You have no idea, Chama. It… it is as if a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders."

She grinned. "So there's hope for us after all?"

He stopped and gazed into her eyes, his expression suddenly loving. He leaned in to kiss her softly.

"I suppose that there is."

"You suppose?", she asked in mock outrage.

"Look into my eyes, my love. I have no words for my hope. You will have to read it in my eyes."

Smiling gently, she pulled him down again. He held her tightly, and she turned her head to speak in his ear again.

"I know your True Name, Granduc, so I'll tell you mine. It's…"

"No, my love! You shouldn't tell your True Name to anyone."

"You're not 'anyone'. I trust you to keep it secret or use it when necessary. I'm Ebe'laar the Kind."

Valen's eyes closed of their own volition. The Kind. Even in the gods' tongue her name reflected the personality she had at present, and not her past actions. "I will guard your secret, my love."

"As I will keep yours."

And then, Valen decided it was past time he took the initiative. Bending, he easily lifted her in his arms and carried her off to bed. Her nervous blush made him chuckle.

"I think I should have warned you in all honesty," he said, "before I accepted your invitation, that I have every intention of following White Thesta's advice and taking some rest tonight. I make no promises about tomorrow morning, but tonight I will put you to bed and sleep quietly with you in my arms."

She looked so disappointed that he burst out laughing and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"You're too tired, my love. Hell isn't a trek to be taken by mortals. You need a good night of sleep to recuperate."

She scowled. "I think I should have waited until tomorrow to free you from the demon. Maybe he made you a bit less sober and demure."

Valen laughed again. "He certainly made me more impatient, but that is just one more thing I would have fought against to do things right. Because I am determined to fight off anything. But exhausting you more than you already are would not be doing things right. Now, if you remove your weight from my sleeve so I can get up…"

She rolled off his sleeve with an amused smile.

"I usually sleep without my shirt," he said. "Would it… bother you?"

Lifting an eyebrow playfully, she lay back down on the bed and watched him appreciatively. "I don't think it will."

Valen's eyes darkened to a cobalt blue at her relaxed pose and suggestive tone. He slowly pulled his tunic off, tilting his head in an old habit so it would not catch on his horns. Chama's eyes widened suddenly, and Valen looked down at himself curiously. Numerous bruises covered his chest, everywhere Mephistopheles' trident had skewered him.

All seduction gone from Chama's stance, she sat up to review his bruises more closely. He stood motionless as she looked at him. It was the first time she stared at him unguardedly like this. Her eyes slowly slid over the marks of his magically healed wounds, then over his older scars.

"Such injuries you have survived. I don't think I can ever send you on the first line again knowing you get these each time you get hit and healed."

"It does not really hurt, my love, and it will be mostly gone by tomorrow morning. It is nothing to worry over."

She looked at him straight in the eye. "I've never… never noticed your scars before. I'm sorry if I shouldn't have looked."

He shrugged. "They are nothing more than old wounds. They don't bother me."

He stilled when she lifted her right hand and lightly ran the tip of her fingers over the white marks on his skin. The story of his life of rage and pain was written down on his very flesh. She wondered where one should see the story of his life of goodness and generosity; his sacrifice of blood for his companions in arms was marked in his flesh too, she realized as she caressed the mark left by the minotaur's axe. But where was he left to show his kindness? His gentleness? Nothing in his size or muscled countenance hinted to it; it was not obvious in his guarded eyes. It was a side of him that he hid well.

"It shows something of your life," she declared at length, taking her hand away, "but it does not tell everything that you are."

She tried to find a better way to explain it, but she had no more words. She looked at him, hoping he would understand.

"That's true. I consider the scars of battle to be a small part of my experience. The scars of Grimash't's torture are a bit more painful to look at, but I have survived them, and I like to think that what I have done since is what really matters."

She looked at him with an unreadable look for a while. "I have scars too." She took a shaking breath. "I was stabbed in the abdomen a few times, and they tried to write something in my skin with knives. The priestesses managed to erase most of it, and what is really amazing is that I carried my son to term."

Valen was at a loss as to what to answer.

"It is strange," she went on. "A man with scars is said to have had a life of battles. A woman with scars is said to have marred skin."

"Only those who have never known battle subscribe to this vision of things, my love. I would not think that you have marred skin. I would think that you bear the mark of your battles."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Thank you," she murmured.

He sat next to her on the bed and she let him draw her in for a hug. After a while she relaxed, and sat up so she could look at his back. Again she traced his old scars with feather-light touches of her fingertips. So many, and so deep; she knew how strong and determined he was, but seeing the marks of Grimash't's tortures, she had no trouble imagining that he had been in "no state" fit to fight his way out of the Abyss.

"I'm sorry for everything that's been done to you."

He half-turned to catch her hand. "It's alright. It's part of my past."

She still seemed sad. "Why must we live through all this pain to discover who we want to be?"

"I'm hardly one to debate philosophical matters, my love. I can only say that all our experiences shape our identity. It seems there are some things we must learn in pain."

She tilted her head. "Yes. Wisdom is not an easy thing to acquire, is it."

Right then Valen decided it was enough serious talk. The day had already been charged enough as it was. Brushing her hair back, he asked, "Are you ready now to sleep, my love?"

"We beat an arch-devil, and how are we going to celebrate? Sleeping!", she groaned moodily, but she moved to the other side of the bed to give Valen some space where to lie down.

He looked at her incredulously. "Is this what you are going to sleep in?", he asked, staring pointedly at the too-big priestess's robe that probably entailed two or three layers of underwear.

Blushing, she briefly averted her eyes. "I have a habit of sleeping with all my clothes on whenever I'm not alone. But I guess I can do an exception for you."

Standing up besides the bed, she timidly shed the overall robe. She twisted her arms in her back to untie the lace of the corset. Valen grimaced against himself at the sight of her slim shoulders popping out because of the unnatural move of her arms.

"Let me help you," he murmured. "Seeing your arms twist like that makes me gnash my teeth and gives me shivers."

She laughed. "Of course it does. You're so big you can't touch your elbows in your back."

"No I can't, but since it's not a move that will save me in battle, I'm not overly sad."

She fell quiet then as he gently untied her corset. He pulled it over her head and she was left standing in the linen underwear coming with the priestess robe.

"You can really sleep in a corset?", he asked to break the silence, lying back down with his arm away from his body.

She shrugged. "I suspect it must not be worse than armour."

She lay down slowly in the space between his chest and arm, and put her head down on his elbow. Stretching to the nightstand, Valen snuffed out the candle. As he had suspected, it is only in the darkness that Chama finally moved, rolling to snuggle in his side. He was grateful for the darkness that hid the silvery of his eyes. He hugged her gently and, deciding that small talk was not necessary anymore to put her at ease, he murmured, "Good night, my love."

She moved her head in the hollow of his shoulder. "Good night, Granduc."