Sex, Drugs, and Oblivian

14/21

Lucifer stretched, his bones and joints echoed a faint ache, but better, far better than they'd been. His head didn't hurt. He rubbed across his forehead and temples. The ache had been so constant for so long, that the absence left him light and energetic. His wings held more life than they had before, and he rolled his shoulders, sighing with relief when they tucked away out of this dimension. There'd been a candle burning… He patted around until his hand touched the bundle.

He smiled. Of course Maze wouldn't leave him in the dark. He struck the rocks and caught the sparks with the moss bundle. When it burned steadily, he lit the candle. The light exposed the room. There wasn't a lot in it, but he didn't need much. Maze would be back in a few flakes of ash. He frowned. No. She'd left. Panic spiked. I'll be back soon. He took a deep breath. The continuing memory lapses bothered him. It would be okay. He didn't need to worry. He waited for a long time. The candle burned away a quarter of its height when it occurred to him that he didn't know where this chamber was.

Nothing stopped him from exploring. Maze hadn't warned him not to. He got to his feet. Staying upright was harder than he remembered, how long would the background dizziness last? He frowned. Clothes hung on pegs and a basket sat in the corner. Someone had collected his clothing from Maze's dome? Relief at the sight washed through him. He touched the clothes, the unexpected softness brought a smile to his face. He took them to the bedroll near the dim light of the candle. Izuden had picked this sleeveless robe. The textures slipped over his skin, smooth and warm. The leggings and tunic, Maze had chosen. All these items came from that glorious ashfall he'd spent at the market with Maze and Izuden experimenting with face paints and dancing to the drum beats. He wrapped the memory around himself as much as he did the clothes.

Dressed, with even his feet wrapped in layers, Lucifer felt secure. And warm. He'd been cold for so long that warmth was a novelty worth noting. He held the candle aloft and peered into the darkness beyond. The hallway stretched out to either side of his room. He smelled water from one direction. The hot pool. He turned the other direction. Doors lined the walls, some opening at floor level, others higher on the wall, the spacing was irregular, as expected with Lilim construction. He moved slowly, the feeble light from the candle not illuminating beyond arm's length.

The hall ended in stairs. He hesitated. Go back or forward? He froze, one foot on the step. It shouldn't be so hard to decide. He knew what he wanted. He always knew what he wanted...but he didn't. His mind remained as frozen as his posture. The male Maze had spoken to, Dromos, had told her often not to expect improvement. His memory fragmented and broke and his thoughts crawled. He shouldn't be like this, and he caused it. He made himself like this.

He took the step. His old self didn't doubt and hesitate, so it wasn't allowed now.

The hall at the top of the stairs twisted and turned before opening into a larger room. His candle created a tiny halo around him. The dark pressed in, but he risked stepping away from the wall into the unknown. Quick swishes of movement and whispers surrounded him, and then dozens of tiny, sticky creatures attacked his legs, grasping his clothes, climbing up him. The tiny things nipped at exposed skin, and emitted chattering, overlapping, high pitched noises that imitated Lilim words. The wall of sound overwhelmed him after the recent quiet. He tried backing away, but they tangled around his feet.

"Enough!" Lucifer rolled his shoulders. His wings whooshed into this reality with a gust of air that knocked several of the creatures to the floor. He flared his feathers. No denizen of hell could tolerate their light.

Bipedal creatures of varying sizes from below knee high to waist high filled the room. Many squealed, in their teeny, ear piercing voices, and covered their eyes. One, braver than the rest raised a tiny knife gripped in its chubby fingers in a defensive motion. It's oversized head and large eyes gave the gesture a comical effect, but something about the protruding bone on the chin and the tiny mauve and gold horns with the spiral twist seemed familiar.

The effort to keep his wings flared drained his energy and they dimmed, drooping until the primaries brushed the floor. He reached for the wall, the dizziness making him feel unsteady in the face of the yawning darkness.

A meaty arm slapped down across Lucifer's shoulders. "Living-angel! Finally, we get to meet you on your feet!"

Lucifer startled, but the heavy arm held him steady. His head barely reached the male's shoulder, and the giant was broad in a way that made Lucifer feel diminutive. Images stuttered through his mind.
The memory of being carried and maneuvered reminded him that the dizziness had once been far worse. And a name surfaced to go with this shaggy giant.

"Dromos?"

The giant's large hand slid down from Lucifer's shoulder, rubbing up and down his bicep. A broad, open baring of the teeth looked dangerous on this male, despite it being of the friendly type. "That's right. You remembered! Dromos, at your service." He gestured at the darkness beyond the pool of light created by Lucifer's candle. "The spawn don't mean nothing by it. Attracted to power, you know." He turned to the room and scowled at the small creatures encroaching into the light before reaching into a pouch at his waist and tossing a handful of shiny pebbles. The creatures scrambled after the pebbles the sounds of their scuttling feet getting further away from Lucifer.

Like Maze, half Dromos' face was shredded and rotten. The eye that wasn't milky white was a startling blue, and his mouth was spread in that wide, jovial, but disconcerting, smile. Sounds of fighting broke out in the darkness. Several of the small creatures' voices raised in shouts and snarls, and Dromos watched proudly.

Lucifer tried and failed to duck out from under the male's arm. "What are they?"

"These? These are a few of the collective's spawn. Future warriors, farmers, hunters. One or two will be Close to Mother, shift to the golden eyes, if we're lucky."

"Spawn?"

Dromos frowned a little. "Offspring, progeny, young." He frowned deeper at Lucifer's continued confusion. "These are the product of mating."

"Mating?"

Dromos gave him a very concerned look. "Perhaps your mind is more addled than we suspected."

Lucifer looked down at himself. "I am as I always have been. Are you not?"

"No. Do you honestly not understand how living things are formed? I know you've coupled before."

"What does coupling have to do with these creatures?" Lucifer looked at the spawn again, perplexed.

"Brozan!" Dromos' bellow startled Lucifer again, but the steadying arm across his shoulders still held him.

A male with many short, spiky, white horns poking through his black hair trotted into Lucifer's candlelight.

"Light the hearth and lanterns."

Brozan nodded and spun away into the darkness.

Hungry-eyed spawn closed in on Lucifer as Dromos left. Lucifer fled from the disturbing creatures, following the large Lilim closely. They entered another room, small enough that his candle light touched the walls. Even smaller creatures stared at him. Some stood on shaky legs, some crawled on stubby, fat limbs. Happy burbles erupted at the sight of Dromos, but he strode on through the room. In the next room, the darkest yet, they were met with warning snarls.

Dromos snarled back, a deep, commanding sound and the warning trailed off in a submissive whimper. The Lilim making the warning backed out of the doorway, and they entered. Inside, a tiny sound stopped Lucifer. He lifted the candle, and saw a small male holding a squirming bundle. Dromos took the bundle from the smaller male, cradling it in the crook of one arm, his huge hand nearly the length of the creature. He unwrapped it and Lucifer saw a tiny body with four limbs and a large head. Perfectly formed tiny hands and feet flailed as the creature loudly screamed its displeasure at being exposed. It was uncoordinated and floppy, and looked more like an insect larva than a Lilim.

"What are the young of your kind like?"

"Angels don't change form." Lucifer insisted.

Dromos cooed at the creature as he rewrapped it and carefully passed it back to the smaller male. "Lilim do. All creatures that draw breath do."

"Not where I'm from."

"Are you toying with me?" Dromos shook his head, and patted Lucifer on the shoulder. He spoke slower than he had before. "We begin like this. This is our youngest spawn. Only a few ashfalls old. We grow through all those stages you saw on the way in here. The ones this high," he tapped Lucifer on the chest, "are nearly whelps. They'll be turned out into the lanes soon. Mazikeen said you ran the lanes with whelps."

Concern filled him regarding Fraq and the others. "What will they change into?"

"Larger versions of themselves. More powerful, more cunning, so's the hope. Fraq will find a mentor and make warrior, soon."

Lucifer eyed the crawling, toddling creatures. Could Maze's dome become similarly overrun? "Where do they come from?"

Dromos laughed so loudly that the larval Lilim began to wail again and in between soothing sounds, the smaller male growled at them. Dromos quieted and shut the door to the larval chamber. He sat on the floor, and the small creatures crawled or toddled over to him. He was soon covered with them. Lucifer stood in the corner to more easily fend them off him. The idea of these drooling, smelly things crawling on him made his skin crawl.

"I'm not sure where to start. I don't believe I've ever had to explain this to a spawn before."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a spawn."

"You certainly aren't." Dromos stared up at the ceiling, thinking it over. "Sprogs grow within a Dame's belly after a successful coupling." He made a motion over his abdomen as if it was much rounder, and Lucifer recalled the female with Izuden who had showed her deformed abdomen with such pride at the festival.

Dromos continued, "After the right time passes, she expels it and leaves it here in the nesting grounds. Dames don't have time to waste on caring for sprogs and whelps. Too busy leading the collective, you know. Spawn care is for males like me and Brozan and Squee. You need a special temper to handle these little monsters."

Lucifer nudged away a bulbous crawling thing that persisted on pawing at his foot. It snapped its teeth at his leg. "Are all of you capable of producing these creatures?"

Dromos threw his head back, laughing again, and picked up the offending sprog from the floor. It reached out and grabbed onto his face, hanging onto the hole in his cheek. Dromos pried it off and gave it a shove before speaking. It fell on another and the two began rolling around the room scratching and biting. Dromos motioned Lucifer to follow him back out into the hall.

"We're all capable of coupling as you are well aware based on what I've heard of your exploits in the Leviathan's Pit," He laughed again. Then turned serious. "Only the most special of females born Close to Mother are able to make spawn. The rest of us? We do it for fun."

Light shone into the hall, drawing Lucifer forward, but the general din from the room of larger spawn increased in volume as they approached. Screams both excited and angry rang out in shrill, ear piercing tones. Dromos smiled fondly. "They broke into the food stores. In good time, too. Come watch. This batch is both bloodthirsty and clever. There are a few promising warriors in the bunch for sure."

Dromos closed a solid gate made of bone over the open doorway and Lucifer joined him. With lanterns and a large hearthfire lit, Lucifer saw that the room was as large as the Commons. The tallest spawn was holding a smaller one standing on his shoulders, as it tossed food onto the floor of the room. On the floor, one bigger spawn was guarding a large pile of food, growling and snarling at any that approached, tossing away smaller spawn that tried to sneak bits away. The small spawn that had brandished the blade at Lucifer directed a group to attack as one, and the hoarder was overthrown. It retreated, bleeding, with only a handful of food while the group dispersed with a larger portion each. Lucifer stared, horrified.

"Look at that fine potential! He'd make a mighty warrior, that one. Natural born leader the likes I haven't seen in long cycles." He shook his head. "Too bad about those horns. He'd've passed back in the colony times, but now he's on the wrong side of throwback. Too much of the Sires in him, not enough of the Mother. Probably never be accepted out of the quarter. Such a waste."

"Why would having horns matter, if he's capable?"

"It's the sum of the parts. The horns, the bone on the chin, the eyes having the slit pupils. If the beast features weren't all on his face, if he was female—either could tip the scale in his favor." He clapped Lucifer on the back, knocking him forward a step. "Eh, it is what it is, right angel?"

They watched the spawn tear into the meat, cramming their mouths full, getting dead flesh juice everywhere. "Is there not enough food for these spawn?"

"Of course there is! Look how strong they all are! Even the smallest over there, barely talking that one, and still stout."

"Why do they fight?"

"If we just gave them food, what would that teach them? Newborns are given food. Even those little sprogs still crawling work for it. We want warriors that think and fight and lead. See the one in the corner who lost his stash? He's soft. Always has been. Not soft enough to die, but not strong. That one will never be a warrior. A farmer maybe, if he survives the lanes."

A sudden feeling of stickiness on his feathers was followed by a hard pull. Lucifer yanked his wings up, far above the reach of the spawn. The little leader male smiled triumphantly before he disappeared into a tiny hole in the wall Lucifer hadn't noticed before. He reappeared on the other side of the room in a few seconds holding out his hands, which were covered with barbules trapped in the perpetual stickiness of these creatures. His hands glowed in the dimness. Lucifer roared his anger and all the spawn scattered into holes in the wall.

Dromos looked at him with immense satisfaction. He thumped his fist to his chest and then gripped Lucifer's shoulder firmly. "Now that's how you deal with spawn."

Dromos dragged him further into the room. He scooped up a large handful of dried meat sticks, and began chewing. Snarls erupted from the walls around them. Dromos laughed again. "They'll be plotting how to get this. Good training today."

Lucifer shifted side to side, turning his head trying to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from.

"Best to eat now before they recover from that shock you gave 'em."

Lucifer's stomach gurgled at the reminder he hadn't yet eaten, so he scooped up a pouch full of crystal jellydiscs and black waspcomb fungus, some of the the least noxious to eat raw. He tied the pouch to his belt, to eat slowly. Rustling overhead warned him of the attack, and he side stepped as a waist high spawn-creature hit the floor where he had been standing.

In one blink he was surrounded by clamouring, grasping spawn. He held his wings high out of their reach, and turned to Dromos for support, only to find him smiling and pressing a bag of dried flesh into his hand. Small hands snatched at the meat, and Lucifer smiled. They were beasts, but beasts motivated by food. He lowered his hand within grabbing distance, then twirled away through the gate Dromos now held open. He grinned at the howls of outrage.

They were quick and many, but he twisted and turned until at last one hand clutched at his legging. He whirled to face the creature, baring his teeth. It didn't flinch so he handed it a meat stick. Then he leapt away, leaving it to defend its prize. When they were too slow for too long, he mimicked taking a bite amidst screams and growls. It was almost fun until the little beasts began throwing clods of mud and rock.

"Begone!" he shouted, putting power behind the word. The spawn scattered again, leaving Lucifer with Dromos. He stood, panting, and now that the excitement had died down, exhausted and the familiar ache squeezing at his temples.

"You are a natural with spawn, living-angel. You'll do well in the nest, but back to your bedroll with a sleeping draught for now."

Lucifer grimaced at being told what to do, even though he'd planned on heading to his bedroll on his own. Dromos shrugged. "Stay if you'd rather. The spawn will be back soon enough."

Lucifer went.