Forgotten Realms:
Angels and Demons
Part LIX
Weary beings plopped to the ground, the weight of their own emotions pulling them down to the ground. Kyla watched as her mentor, her teacher fell to the ground, resting like a sack of potatoes. Broken by the loss of his friend, she felt the pain radiating off of him. He was trying to hold it in, stoically, but she could see the pain etched on his face. It was the same pain etched on the faces of all the other Challengers.
She went back to her armor, her weapons, doing something to keep her mind off the day's events. Not a friend of Kirann's, or a member of his group, she had heard many stories of the strange monk. Walton had expounded on the monk's virtues, his prowess in battle, but most importantly, his compassionate heart. Meeting him, however briefly, had left a mark on her. It was how unassuming he was, and unaware of the power he held in his hands.
Now he was gone. Despite herself, Kyla felt wetness around her eyes. She was shedding what her teacher could not. Behind her a lord of people, stared vacantly. His confidant, advisor, and his friend looked just as lost. While a succubus stormed off to the outskirts, anger filling every fiber of her being.
Lord Wallace had sent many to their death's before, and he was sure he was sending more to their demise now. He had always known that this was probably a one-way trip. The word of Kirann had been enough to get him marching though. The hero had put his life on the line for others, for as long as Lord Wallace had known him. He had hoped to be a little more like this hero, by coming here with him. It was strange how the humblest could bring the mighty to their knees, and when they were humble and mighty, well they toppled devils.
Bruce the wizard walked after Jaslyn, not so much to keep her out of trouble, but because their forces couldn't afford to pick a fight amongst themselves. He caught up with the angry succubus, her true nature on display for all to see. Only his presence kept the others from pulling their weapons. A full day of fighting demons and devils made them less than accepting of any amongst them, even those on their side.
"You can leave wizard, they won't dare touch me!" Jaslyn growled. "I just want some space from all you damn mortals."
Bruce smiled, thinking about how Kirann would handle this, "I'm sure you can wear yourself out fighting or in other ways, but would that bring him back?"
"I don't care!" she hissed.
"It is okay to feel," Bruce said, moving closer to her. "It is only natural."
"Not for monsters like me!" she exclaimed. "I'm supposed to be conniving, calculating, and out for my own self. Instead, I'm angry. Angry that he is gone and I have these feelings!"
Bruce pulled her to him, it was a warm embrace. It wasn't passionate or loving, but rather empathetic. They were both mourning the loss, a good friend, and something more. To Jaslyn, he was an oddity. A being with Celestial blood, that cared for her, showed her something else besides what she knew. To Bruce, someone who would listen, immensely curious and willing to show his own wisdom. How many times had they had conversations, about nothing in particular, but everything?
"It's okay, he has a way of changing the people around him," Bruce said. "It's hard not to get attached to the lovable lug."
Jaslyn beat her hands against his chest, "What is wrong with me? Why does it hurt?"
"Because he mattered, he mattered to us all," Bruce relayed. "The greater the pain, the greater he meant, but he also left us with something else. Memories of how things can be, should be, and an example of how to be."
Jaslyn wiped her eyes, "What does it say when he can make a succubus cry?"
"That he was right about you," Bruce said without hesitation. "Come on, let's get back."
As the succubus and the wizard walked back, with Raven watching. The fruits of his labor, and she smiled. Kirann would have loved seeing this. The others were still adamant he was really gone, she felt differently. She still felt him in her heart, and she remembered his last words, that he would return. He kept those type of promises, the important ones. Not that all promises weren't, but for him, these were the ones that mattered. If any could, he would come back.
She stared down at her guitar, strumming on it mindlessly. Raven felt his hands on her shoulders, as he was want to do when she practiced. She could feel his breath on her neck, as he leaned in to kiss her. Warmth spread through her body, making her shiver. She could almost see and hear him in her peripheral, and her mind clung to a feeling. That her love was soon to return, and keep his word.
Val was a few cups into her drink, her crew silently supporting her. Watching their captain be miserable was something new to them. They weren't sure what to do, as she was the one usually making everything right. Her head lay on the table, looking over the empty cups before her. She saw the worried looks from her crew, but just didn't have the energy to be their emotional heart right now.
"Cap'n," Smitty sat down beside her. "Me and the boys aren't good at this, but just know we be here for ye."
"Get me another drink, will you sweety?" Val slurred.
Smitty gently put a hand over hers, "Why don't ye go talk with your friends. I'll keep the boys in line."
Lorinda found herself with Leilani, and the shock of being friendly with a Drow still made her laugh from time to time. At that moment, she was grateful for the other woman. Elf and Drow, sharing their memories, their pain and helping each other heal. Leilani filled the druid in on the goings on at Kirann's school, and her own studies of her heritage. Lorinda told of her rise to being the leader, and how she missed the simpler life.
"He was one of my first friends," Lorinda said. "I didn't make friends easily, but he was just there. He stuck with me, even when I thought I had pushed him away. I never did understand why."
Leilani had an idea, "He had a student back home. This kid was a loner, a great student, but didn't get on with people easily. Kirann kept gently prodding him, pushing him out of his comfort zone. One day the kid finally fails, and I think Kirann might have made a mistake.
However, as this kid is at his lowest level, the other students come over to him and lift him back up. Soon he was running around with all sorts of friends. It turned out the kid was a loaner because he feared how others saw him. Once he had to face that, the walls he put up fell away.
Our friend seemed to understand this kid better than he did himself. He also had faith in his pupils, and their compassion for one another."
"Yeah, that sounds like him," Lorinda said tiredly. "I miss him."
"We all do," Leilani agreed.
Pain, that was all Manheim knew now. He wasn't sure which level of the Hells he was on, at one time he would have known. Instead sharp little teeth ripped him apart, only for his flesh to knit back together, and rent apart again. Though recently sent here, it felt like many lifetimes ago. Before his death, he had been powerful, now he was nothing. A victim to the darkest, most hellish things an imagination could conjure.
His torture was unending, no rest or respite, till a tall horned figure sent his torturers away. The new figure was power incarnate, raw, horrible power of the vilest kind. Even despite his fatigued mind, and the tortures he had endured, Manheim knew who it was. New fear sprouted in his heart, and it ran away like a galloping horse. Thumping in his chest like and infernal engine, the Human wizard felt like he was to die another time.
"Manheim," the horned figure rumbled. "You have a black heart, and are insidious to your core. I may have use yet for you. See, one of your old friends has put a kink into my plans. Part of it was due to Tyrannus underestimating this Aasimar. The same mistake you made, if I recall correctly. However, unlike my minion, you I can incentivize." The devil pulled up another tortured soul, and used it as a chair. "I can offer you a release, and with it power. You'll be one of my agents, all you need to do is destroy the resistance at this focal point.
Yes, I can see you want out of here. My minions here are good at what they do, and they do enjoy their duties. I can see their careful ministrations upon you. I would say you were strong, or you lasted long. Truth is, you're a little whiny bitch. However, you're a very resourceful one. I know you'll do anything to stay out of this place again, and I'm willing to let you on a leash, a short one, yet you'll take it. Won't you, Manheim?"
"I will serve, what is your command?" Manheim sputtered.
The tall horned devil gave a deathly horribly show of his teeth, "Reopen the portal and destroy these so called, 'Challengers.' Do this for me, and I may have other uses for you. Fail, and this will be a sweet wet dream of yours."
"Yes, Lord Asmodeus," Manheim replied.
With a burst of pain, the human wizard fell the ground screaming. Despite the horrid sensations burning away at him, he was unable to close his eyes. He was able to see his limbs turn red, fingers sprout black, deadly talons. He felt pressure on his head, as he rocked back and forth, Manheim felt the horns that had sprouted from his head. His feet turned cloven hoofed, and his teeth fell out, with pointed, dagger ones replacing the old ones. From behind, a long, barbed tail sprouted, causing Manheim to scream anew.
"Now get to work, imbecile," Asmodeus snapped his fingers, causing Manheim to disappear.
Al looked over the wounded, and those still alive. All brought here by an idea, and one that gave the Angel hope for the peoples of Faerun. They weren't here for riches, or to gain more power. Instead they were fighting Evil for the sake of others that could not. If only all the peoples could do that, then maybe people like his charge wouldn't be needed as often, and they could live simply.
His heart was solemn, yet he knew that Kirann was somewhere better. He was probably in the Heavens now, and Al knew he was in the most beautiful part. That was the fate he deserved, to find peace after so much conflict in his life. Al's only regret was that Kirann hadn't gotten to see the next generation take over, for they were present here. The next set of Challengers would come from those gathered here, seeing the heroes of old in one final battle.
As he mused, he felt a touch, something divine reach out. Warmth flooded him, pure light flowing into him. Wounds healing, the mending came with a message, such a wondrous message. He felt rapturous pleasure fill him, giddiness pouring forth, making the Angel feel like a mortal child. Soon everyone would hear the message delivered to him, but for him, his next action was to prepare. There was much to do, much to prepare for before the morning. Night may have fallen, but a new dawn was about to rise.
