Chapter Five: Finding Our Way

I.

It was easily as beautiful as he'd remembered it, that little town clustered comfortably together in Amoria, the first layer of Elysium. The aasimar couple had taken almost no time at all to find the town again, their intentions pure and honest. The plane liked honest people, it liked good people, and good people got places faster. Simple truth, nothing more. Cierra had remained as radiant as ever, if not more so, the entire trip, and for once, Rhedoc had to admit he was enjoying himself. He was on a nice upper plane, with good company, on his way to retirement, things were absolutely perfect.

Golden beams of sunlight streamed into Isabell Yuy's cottage, illuminating wooden tables, beds, a few chairs, and dried herbs hanging from the rafters. It was small, yet homey, and, as Rhedoc sat looking out of the window and down into the main thoroughfare of the town, he smiled softly, closing his eyes. It was warm, it was home. Smells wafted out of Isabell's oven, telling tales of the enormous meal she was preparing, and he hoped he was up to the challenge. If the cookies were any indicator of her skill with baked goods, he'd surely try with all his might to eat whatever she made.

Isabell pushed the door open and moved into the cottage, apron skirts brushing the floor as she carried a small woven basket in with her, loaves of bread and wheels of cheese poking out around a cloth top. She smiled brightly to Rhedoc, moving on past him to the kitchen.

"She's right, you do sleep all day when left alone," her musical voice chimed.

Isabell was followed closely by her daughter, smiling brightly as she carried her own basket. Cierra stopped only to kiss Rhedoc's cheek lightly and move on to the kitchen with her mother. Rhedoc only smiled and stretched once more with a great sigh. This plane was simply wonderful.

II.

Brunch was amazing, Isabell had scrambled six eggs with green peppers and onion and a strong, yet fitting cheese. She then grilled sausages over an open flame in the fireplace, then chopped them, adding them into the mix. This was followed with lightly toasted slices of fresh-baked bread, fresh fruits, cheeses, and large tankards of milk. Apparently, Isabell had decided to be the resident mommy of Amoria, as she was quite good at caring for people.

The three sat around the table after a far too large brunch, smiling back and forth. Cierra's father, whom they'd come to meet, was not currently on the plane, he was away on business. This was normal, as Devas were often called away to do the business of their patrons. He was due to return soon, however, and that was good. Rhedoc did not think he could bear waiting much longer. Devas were known to be fair and kind, but also wrathful and terrible, and he was hoping her father was more the former than the latter.

Amoria was still and even, and people milling about hardly made any noise in their pleasant day to day affairs, and today was no different than any other. That is why it came as such a shock when there were screams and shouts coming from the heart of the town.

In the space of a heartbeat, all three present were on their feet, grasping armor and shimmying into it quickly. Rhedoc and Isabell buckled on pairs of short swords in tandem, something Rhedoc noted with some idle curiosity, but he had no time to inquire as to this oddity before all three were running instinctively toward the sound. Rhedoc ran in his smoke-colored leather armor, short sword bouncing at his hips; Isabell was not far behind in what appeared to be a silver and green chain mail shirt, short swords likewise dancing around very shapely hips. She was easily as beautiful as her daughter. Cierra ran behind, in heavier banded armor of metal strips and chain undershirt. Her glaive was hoisted form the ground, aimed down for a possible charge if danger reared.

III.

They arrived too late, as the fire leapt and danced higher and higher into the ash-blackened sky. Isabell choked and coughed, not having just been to Baator, and not being used to such air. Cierra's nose wrinkled as she looked around desperately for what may have caused all this, Rhedoc's swords already out. His hands were moving on their own, even without an enemy present, slowly rotating the blades as they flickered and shimmered in the flame's light, the tips moving in circles, confusing, intricate.

Each tentatively took another step further, breath held in, waiting. Something was bound to happen, and happen soon. Things like this did not happen in Elysium, and that was odd enough, let alone that baatezu had taken Cierra so recently as well. Occasionally, a pillar of smoke and ash japed and jeered, and Rhedoc nearly dove at them, thinking them baatezu come back for Cierra. But no, no Rhedoc was not so lucky. They had not come back for Cierra. The wall of a nearby home exploded as a massive spider-creature came through it. The thing had black chitinous skin, with eight huge spidery legs ending in spear-like points. It had a man's torso with a spider's head atop it, like a hideous nightmare creature. A body hung from one of the legs, impaled through the torso.

At this, Rhedoc flung himself, unthinking, blindly trying to draw it away from what he was sure was its target, Cierra's cries for him to stop falling on ears blocked by bloodlust and hatred. Isabell ran forward to stop him, but it was too late. A meaty fist landed on Rhedoc's head, knocking him to the ground, another scooping him up as the creature beat a retreat faster than Cierra or Isabell could possibly match, leaving both women standing, horrified by what had just happened. Cierra could only scream and cry as her fists beat the dirt over and over in the growing fires.

IV.

He was dimly aware of moving as he woke, cradled in the arms of a spider-creature from a lower plane. His weapons remained on him, he armor the same. That was a blessing, a mercy. Why had he done that? Blindly attacked, that was stupid. Berk, now you'll never see her again. Welcome to the piking Blood War, and the end of your piking life. Berk. Well good, at least his life was over and he wouldn't have to live without Cierra for long. One stupid move and you lose her forever, you berk. You absolute berk.

It all happened so fast. He had no time to assess the situation at all, everything was moving. The creature was speaking in some language or other, guttural and filthy. They were laughing, probably about the aasimar's fate. Then things erupted, exploding into activity. A spear pushed through his captor's chest, followed by two arrows. Rhedoc rolled free of the dying fiend, swords coming loose in his hands. He spun, not quite sure what at, but finding home regardless as he ripped open another fiend's chest. There was a warm spatter across his cheek and he turns, seeing two dead fiends laying on the ground.

A figure approached, feminine, and the very definition thereof. She was lovely, shapely, the kind of woman men killed for. Her hair was long and bright red, skin an ashen tan. She wore a black leather corset and hip-boots with black leather gloves, everything clinging to her perfect form tightly. A long sword bounced at her hip, a quiver at her back. It took a moment, but this woman… she looked familiar…

"Alanicia… Alanicia, Brells' friend, aren't you?" he choked out to the woman. She simply smiled a small smile that lit him on fire inside.

"Thought you might need a little help, cutter," she purred, coming closer. That's right, she'd left Brells, now that he thought about it. Now if only he could remember why…

"Where in the Nine Hells of Baator are we, Al?"

He looked around the place he was now in. It was a forest, but a black one, with mold and moss clinging to blackened and dark brown tree trunks. There was ankle-deep fetid water all around, and the smell was horrible. At least Al was here, and that was a blessing. Sometimes a friendly face made all the difference.

They set out, walking at Alanicia's direction, toward the nearest town, which was by her reckoning, Plague-mort, Gate Town of the Abyss.

V.

Plague-mort was farther away than Rhedoc would have liked, and it loomed huge in the distance. It's blackened spires and hideous sprawl into the swamp was very indicative of how he felt about all of the lower planes. The buildings were craggy, broken, and breaking, with blackened rock and obsidian making them up, the brackish waters of the swamp rising to meet black iron walls.

For the whole trip, Rhedoc had been trying to remember what Brells had said about Alanicia, something about the breakup. It hadn't ended well between the Godsman and the tiefling, not at all, and there was something important Rhedoc should be remembering about her. Brells was his friend, and never lied to them before. As she neared the gate, hips swaying seductively, it happened. Something clicked in his brain. She was a gold-digger, she only stayed where there was money… and something else… yes! Yes, she kept Brells enchanted! That was it! It would be careful going from here, for sure. Never let her out of your sight, berk, and never let her start casting. In Plague-mort they'd be able to jump a portal back to the Cage, and then on back to Elysium, lickety-split. Hang on, Cierra, here I come.