Shenanigans 1/3
Maze and others nudge Lucifer back into the world around him. Shenanigans ensue. Lucifer heals and gets one step closer to learning his true purpose in Hell.
He woke up to Maze nudging him with her foot. He grumbled but didn't move.
"Are you still alive?"
"No." He shivered, skin feeling prickly and over sensitive. His muscles ached all over.
"Then I guess you don't want any of this scalding ooze porridge I made," she teased.
Yes. Yes, he did. She didn't make that for him often. Even the thought of it made his mouth water and he licked his dry and chapped lips. He wanted to sit up. He wanted to. He imagined himself sitting up, holding out a hand for the warm bowl, imagined the taste of the porridge, sweet on his tongue compared to so many other semi-edible things in this world.
"Lucifer, are you getting up or not?"
But he fell back to sleep. Consciousness only brought misery, and more chills. Light touches were irritating; the blanket material felt like gravel scraping his skin. Outside the cover the air was too cold. He could scoot closer to the hearth, but then he might as well be in the fire as near it. The heat was too intense, burning, even from a distance.
Maze lightly stroked his hand, then wrapped her fingers around his wrist and pulled him upright, the pressure of her fingers was better than the light caress from before. Nausea roiled his stomach and he grasped the blanket around his shoulders, the muscles in his upper back protesting against the movement. He wanted to sleep. Why wouldn't she let him?
She placed the bowl on his lap, "Eat before it gets cold."
He wanted to. But the gap between wanting and doing was wide. He pushed the bowl back to the floor before laying down and rolling over, grasping for the comforting embrace of sleep to return.
From some distant place where the world still existed, a body slid close behind him, arms wrapped around his chest and warmth enveloped him. Only then, did his shivering ease, and he rested at last.
Lucifer was aware when Maze's body moved away from his. He wanted to reach for her, ask her to say, but willing the action into reality was too much work. Instead, he rolled onto his back and watched in a half-doze as she sharpened her blades and buckled on her armor.
The prospect of Maze leaving brought back old fears. Where was she going? Would she come back? He didn't want to be alone.
But the words wouldn't come. He remembered the frustration of not being able to communicate, and that same level of despair burned within him. Why couldn't he translate his thoughts into words and ask her to stay?
Mazikeen left. He turned his head back toward the fire, watching the blaze. She'd be back. This was her dome, her stuff was here, of course she would come back. Knowing this didn't ease his fears.
The winds rose and howled when Lucifer opened his eyes. He expected to be alone still, but Maze crouched beside him. She used moistened moss to clean and buff her blades. The moss went into the hearth basket to dry and later be used to fuel the fire. The ruined side of her face was the only part of her he could see, the bone and tendons blended and meshed with the skin, shaping her jaw and her eye. He knew this side of her as intimately as the other, and it fascinated him. He wanted to run his fingers along the intricate patterns of her cheek. But he didn't. The lethargy gripped him as securely as the divine binding cord ever had. There was no fighting it, and so he didn't. He lay and watched. She didn't look his way until she finished tending to her blades and put them away.
"Are you going to stay awake this time?"
"Maybe." He didn't want to.
"Still cold?" She asked.
He nodded. She reached over and helped him sit up. The blanket fell from his shoulders and she wrapped her arm around him instead. She threw more moss on the fire, and he rested his head on her shoulder.
A dark patch of something on her arm caught his attention and he rubbed his thumb against it. "Blood?"
"Not mine," Maze answered.
He had questions, but no words would come. He let his arm drop on his lap and rested against her. Wrapped in Maze's warmth, he started drifting away in his mind again.
"I have a serious question, Lucifer."
That brought him back. He tensed, waiting.
"Does your kind hibernate?"
"I don't know that word."
"Beasts that sleep for long periods of time."
"Not a beast," he grumbled.
"I know, but do you hibernate?"
"No?"
"What is this, then?"
He shrugged.
"I want you to stop it. Get up. Move. No more sleeping."
"I'll try." He sat up straighter as she pushed him off her. He accepted the waterskin when she passed it to him and took a long drink. How could he explain he wanted the same thing; he just didn't know how.
"Lucifer, there are whelps outside. If they damage anything, I'm blaming you."
He threw his arm over his face, only wanting to go back to sleep. "What are whelps?"
"Untrained pests." Maze rolled her eyes and snatched the cover off him. Lucifer rolled up into a ball. Why was it so cold? She clapped her hands in front of his face. "Get up, Lucifer. Enough lying around."
"I'm not lying around; I'm sleeping."
"You haven't bathed in a hand of ashfalls. You smell like wet sandals. If you keep going like this, you'll rot."
"Angels don't rot."
"They're throwing rocks at the dome, and I'd rather not have to go out there and give them the beating they deserve. They're looking for you. Get up and see what they want."
He groaned and sat up, stomach roiling with nausea. His chiton hit him in the head, courtesy of Maze, and he pulled it on and pinned it. Leggings next. He laid back down and pulled them up. And the belt. The clothes scraped against his over sensitive skin and he was even more cold wearing them than without. Sandals. Cloak. Maze tried to push the scarf at him, and he batted her hand away. The thought of anything wrapped around his throat felt like being choked. He tugged at the collar of his tunic. "I'm fine."
The light from the torch made him squint. Since when was anything in this realm too bright? The ash cloud glowed brighter, the torches were beacons of pain driving into his skull, and yet everything else was too dark. Lucifer squinted into the contrasting visual chaos around him.
A rock hit his back. He turned and glared. Right. Fraq stared at him with her asymmetrical eyes, the larger yellow one nearly glowed around the slit of vertical pupil. On either side were two males, whatever their names were. Hadn't there been three males before? "What?"
She ran up and grabbed his hand, tugging him along.
"Maze—" He called back to the dome, seeking rescue. He didn't want to go anywhere or do anything.
Maze stepped out of the dome and shoved a small travel bag at him. "No more sleeping. Stop at the market and get more hair-moss."
Well. That was unhelpful. He pulled the bag over his shoulder and let Fraq drag him along. His limbs felt heavy and tired and sore. "The market is the other way."
"How would you know?"
"How do you know I don't know?"
Fraq stuck out her tongue and let him go.
"Where's the other one?"
"Other what?"
Lucifer waved his hand toward the other males, the round furry one close to Fraq's size was there, as was the shorter one with spiked hair and beady eyes. "The one with horns and sharp teeth is missing."
"Oh, Zek found a mentor. He will be a warrior!" Fraq stated proudly.
"Why don't you have a mentor?" Lucifer asked, he'd thought Fraq was the leader of her bunch of miscreants.
She glared and let out a derisive snort. "I'm not going to mentor with just anyone. I'm waiting for a proper female warrior to train me. Zek's male, it doesn't matter who trains him. I've heard your handler is a really good mentor. But I bet she's not looking for any proteges. You know, unless she found someone she thinks is worth her time. What do you think?"
Lucifer bristled at Maze being called his handler. Maze was not his handler. She was… something else. "I don't think Maze likes whelps very much."
Fraq let out a harrumph and kicked at a stone on the lane. Her mood didn't stay sullen for long though. "Bet you can't keep up with me."
"Why would I want to?" Why did Fraq have so much energy and why was she using it to bother him?
"Cause you're slow. Lilim are faster than angels."
"No, they aren't."
"Prove it."
Lucifer glared, indignation welling up inside him. Pride trumped lethargy. His sandals were on securely. "Fine."
Fraq took off. Lucifer gave her a head start. The little males stared open-mouthed. And then he was off. But he didn't follow straight. He knew his way around better now. He didn't even have to run. Just wait, listen, and follow. He took a 'path' between domes and then cut through a boar pen, and around… and there she was. Fraq had slowed to a stop, looking behind her. Lucifer snuck up from behind, leaned in close to her ear.
"Fraq," he whispered, and she jumped, flailing theatrically.
She smacked his arm. "You cheated."
"Did not. You can't cheat when there are no rules. The goal was to keep up. I did."
"Next time there will be rules."
He shrugged. "I already proved angels are faster. You can't undo it."
The two little males came running to catch up, panting all the way.
Fraq walked along beside him, kicking at the ash drifts as she cast side-eyed glances his way.
"Ugh. I can still smell the Lethe on you," she muttered.
"What's Lethe?"
"It makes you think down is up, bad is good."
"Is that supposed to make sense?"
"It's bad. Terrible. The ones who supply it aren't interested in making us feel good, they prefer screams. They make you do things you don't want to."
"No one made me do anything." He answered, but he wasn't sure. What about revealing his skin under the glamour? Making him reveal his wings? There was a lot about the encounter he couldn't remember. But he knew he'd resisted none of it.
"There are a lot of fun things to do that won't leave you to wake up in the trash."
He glanced at her, and then away. "If you mean the commons, I've been there. They don't like non-Lilim."
"They don't like anyone different. Warriors only like warriors. Gatherers only like other gatherers. Nobody likes whelps, but we have our own places. You could come with me sometime. If you're allowed."
"I'm allowed."
Fraq gave him a doubtful look and gestured the males closer and pointed at a group of Lilim throwing dice in the lane.
The males scurried up ahead.
"What are they up to?"
"We'll see you run yet," Fraq teased.
He snorted. "Not likely."
Fraq bared her teeth, and then nodded at the males. They grinned, and then the furry one screeched and leaped onto the other one, and an all-out brawl started between them.
Lucifer watched them growl and claw at each other, releasing terrible and loud howls and shrieks. They hadn't been angry a moment ago. He knew a planned distraction when he saw one.
Fraq nudged him. "Be ready," she warned.
He frowned. "What for?"
She ran up to the fight, trying to pull one off the other, and then went stumbling backward into group of Lilim gathered to watch. Lucifer kept an eye on her, and yes, there it was. Her hand snagged a bag at one of the Lilim's belts and tugged.
The string broke, she grabbed her prize, and was off running.
Shouts and threats followed; the males were already gone. All eyes turned on him.
Oh. Warg-nuts.
"The beast was with them! Get him!"
The memory of the sad looking tusked beast speared and bleeding in the lane came to mind. Could he fight them? There were only five… did he want to? Not so much. He ran after Fraq, easily faster than the Lilim chasing. He was going to dunk the little menace into a boar pit for this.
The sound of pursuit only lasted for two lanes. As much as he hated to admit it, the brief burst of activity felt good on his sore muscles. He stopped and shook out the bits of gravel and stone wedged in his sandals and looked around.
Now, where was he?
A rock bounced off the back of his head. Fraq hadn't abandoned him after all. Why was she always throwing rocks at him? He looked for the source, and there she was. When she jumped down from the roof of the shelter, she was holding her spoils with pride, and even spun in place in excitement.
"This is going to be worth a lot!" she bragged.
"It doesn't look like there's a lot of coin in there. Is it something else worth trading?" He was used to them stealing stuff from the market by now, though he still didn't understand the logic of selling what they stole back to the trader they took it from. Nor the willingness of the traders to willingly partake in such transactions.
"We don't trade it, we ransom it. Don't you know what this is?" She asked and thrust the pouch in front of his face.
"Should I?"
Fraq rolled her eyes. "You're such a sprog. Its a Talisman Pouch. Everyone has one."
"I don't."
"All Lilim have them. Your handler, Mazikeen, has one."
He ignored Fraq calling Maze his handler, again. "Oh, that pouch. Why is that valuable?" He snatched the pouch out of Fraq's hand and loosened the tie to empty the contents of it onto his palm. It was just a bunch of funny colored rocks and some bones and teeth.
Fraq looked like her eyes might pop out of her head and she rushed forward, grabbed the bits and pieces and stuffed them back in the little sack. She shoved it in her cloak and looked around, checking that no one saw what happened.
Lucifer stood, perplexed. She looked genuinely upset.
Fraq kicked ash at him, her face white, hands trembling. "You gut-faced malt-worm!" she hissed and kicked ash at him again. "You're going to get us all cursed." She threw her arms up in the air and stomped some more. "That's it! We're cursed now. I'm going to end up picking fungus out of dank caves with the males! My claws are going to shrivel and fall off! My fangs will rot, and my face will blister and leak pus!"
He couldn't help it; he laughed. This only served to incense the little Lilim further and she launched at him.
That was unexpected. Lucifer stepped out of the way and stuck out his foot. She landed face first in the dirt. "Are we done now? Do you mind telling me what heinous crime I've committed?"
"You touched it," she growled and clenched her fists, but didn't attack again.
"How was I to know I wasn't supposed to touch it? Maze let me touch hers."
Fraq stared. "She let you touch the things in her pouch?"
"She lets me touch a lot of things—"
Fraq hopped in place. "Don't you get it? You corrupted the talisman's essence. You cursed it."
"What essence? There's no curse."
She grabbed the pouch again and held it out threateningly. "This. No one is going to pay a ransom for corrupted magic."
"There's no magic on that. Never was."
"Of course, there is. It's a Talisman. That's what it means."
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Nothing there. Do you sense anything?"
Fraq looked at the pouch. "No. That just means you chased it away."
He gestured to the pouch on Fraq's own belt. "How about that one? I never touched yours. Do you feel magic in there?"
"No. But, that doesn't mean there isn't. Maybe it's just me, and this is my curse now. Because of you!"
"You're not cursed. The pouch hasn't been corrupted. No one other than us need to know anything about it, and you'll get exactly as much ransom as you were going to before I 'defiled' it."
Fraq eyed the pouch, and then eyed him. "Really?"
"Yes."
"I don't feel any different." She let out a sigh and tucked the pouches back where they belonged.
"That's because you aren't cursed. Tell me more about these magic pouches. Is there anything I need to know about them other than angels can't touch them."
"Not just angels. Anyone. Great shame is on anyone who loses their talisman."
"And curses, apparently."
She nodded gravely. "Warriors, especially, will do anything to reclaim a stolen talisman pouch, but we'd need to run a lot faster to escape a warrior. And if they catch you, they give you a bad thumping. This one just belongs to a gatherer, but we'll still get a decent ransom if it isn't corrupt."
"It isn't," he promised.
Fraq grinned suddenly. "You know who else really cares about their pouches?"
"Who?"
"Dames. They think the power, or their Talisman pouch directly influences how many males they can draw into the Spire for coupling. Come on, I heard there's a festival in the commons. Maybe we'll find some Dames there ripe for snatching."
"Shouldn't we wait for your friends? What if they were caught?"
Fraq looked around as though just realizing they weren't with them. "Bof and Grog can take care of themselves." And she tugged him along again. It was just as well. Maze wanted the hair-moss, and the market was where he needed to go to get it.
And then he could go back to bed.