Chapter Six: The Rescue

I.

They'd been living in Plague-mort for days now, and Rhedoc very much disliked it. Damn gate town to the Abyss, and it lived up to its reputation. Baatezu were one thing, they could be counted on predictably to try and kill you, or get you caught in a deal you couldn't renege. These tanar'ri, on the other hand, they were wild, unpredictable, and he hated every inch of them. Whenever one looked him over, it felt like he was being sized up for the Blood War, and in truth, he probably was. The War was a nasty business, baatezu and tanar'ri had decided countless ages ago that the other group were anathema and needed a good destroying. War still raged on to this day, no side looking any different than when it started, mostly on account of more and more of them being created every day. Tanar'ri were the worst, though they shared Rhedoc's wild and chaotic spirit, they were quite delightfully evil, and thought nothing of downright murdering people for no reason at all. And so Rhedoc was nervous.

Alanicia had reassured him that everything would be alright, she had kip here, and they'd be left alone for as long as it took to get news on the Elysium raid. So far she'd been right. He hated staying here, but if the chant was to be believed, he was the reason they'd attacked in the first place, so he'd stay here until things got worked out. The creature that had taken him turned out to be a Bebilith, a greater tanar'ri spider creature. The tanar'ri had attacked Elysium to get Rhedoc, for recruitment. He had, afterall, done a job for a tanar'ri in Bytopia, and he had said something when he'd returned about the Blood War or recruitment. Alanicia's contacts had told her the raid was over, but they were looking for Rhedoc elsewhere, and that meant laying low. He missed her badly, her smile, her touch… Cierra was everything, it killed him being apart from her.

The door to the little hovel opened, shedding light into the darkened room, casting shadows from the stark decorations. Alanicia walked in, and she looked absolutely radiant for some reason.

II.

Cierra had seen Rhedoc snatched up by the monster, seen it teleport away. It was disturbing to her how the monster could even move around and get from place to placeon Elysium, as it was evil. None of that mattered, though. Rhedoc had to be saved, and speculation on the nature of the planes would not do that. She wandered down a road in Sigil, in the Clerks' Ward. Everything was orderly here, calm, and on each street corner stood a man proclaiming news for the day from each of the planes and each of their cities. It was truly something to hear, as one walked through the streets of the Ward, hearing all there was to hear on the planes, it was wonderful. Cierra, however, did not notice. The world was a dark grey to her, and nothing mattered but saving Rhedoc from whatever fate befell him at the hands of the Bebilith. If need be, she'd walk into whatever realm his dead spirit was shipped off to and demand his return, it hadn't seemed hard when Rhedoc did it for his mother all those months ago.

Isabell had packed her a lunch, and she nibbled dully on the sandwich, not tasting much but wet salt from her own cheeks. She'd purchased information on a portal leading from Sigil to the Abyssal gate town, and from there, she'd be able to find out whatever had happened to her love. She chided herself, swearing she'd never have done this for a man, that she was getting weak. She didn't need Rhedoc, or anyone. Why, then, was she following after him blindly, chasing him like a lost puppy? To no small extent, it bothered her, and yet, she loved him, and it seemed all right to do so.

Well, here she was, mouth of the alley, holding a bit of moldy bread. There was that familiar glow, and soon she'd be off again, all too soon, traipsing across the multiverse on an adventure. Just wondrous. She had intended to retire with Rhedoc and live out her days happily in Elysium. Well, so much for plans.

III.

She was flying.

Falling.

Rising.

Slipping through mud and molasses.

There was his smile rising up to meet her.

Paradise.

THUD.

IV.

She landed hard on what felt like red hot iron. She screamed and rolled off of it, cradling her shoulder like a wounded dove, to the laughter of what she only assumed were tanar'ri in her blind pain. Cierra stood, still holding her shoulder, and looked around the room where she now found herself. It was dark, to be sure, and she had been laying on a massive anvil next to a large forge. There were a few lesser tanar'ri, probably manes or dretches, working the forge, who'd stopped to peer at her and laugh at her pain. Her hand tightened on her glaive and she continued to walk, angry at herself and the multiverse all at once. Stupid Rhedoc, getting kidnapped. How dare he?

It was smoky and black outside the little hut, the ground hot and the sky black. All manner of dark things walked the streets, and she shuddered to think of her Rhedoc being dragged through here. She could see the fear and confusion in those perfect blue eyes, the realization he'd never see her again. That was all it took to firm her resolve. She moved on, pressing past a group of leering tanar'ri. She would find Rhedoc.

V.

Down the blackened streets she went, asking each information broker she crossed, sometimes begging for them to say if they'd seen him. None had. In fact, the name Rhedoc Gwydion didn't even seem to ring a bell, even amongst the greater tanar'ri present. It was odd how they'd captured him specifically, not knowing anything about him. Unless it was completely random, which would definitely fit their description. She had almost given up, tears coming so freely she was nearly blind, when she ran into someone, quite literally.

"Watch where you're going, berk," came the feminine voice, alluring, attractive, everything a man could ever want. Even some things a woman could want.

Cierra squinted in the light, taking in the features of the woman before her, and slowly, very slowly, realization kicked in.

"Alanicia! You sodding whore!" she spat. Cierra, too, was Brells' friend, but she remembered outright that Alanicia had cowed him magically into submission, and then used him for all his money.

"Sod off, aasimar," she returned, shoving past Cierra and wandering off into the crowd. That was her mistake. As she left, Cierra noted the woman's cloak. It was a very nice Elysian cloak, and a bit small. One that might, in fact, fit Cierra herself. One Cierra had worn before, one her mother had bought her before leaving home. Alanicia knew where Rhedoc was.

It was hard for Cierra to follow someone, she was no rogue like Rhedoc was, but she had a more failsafe way of being invisible. Her slender hand dipped into her pouch, and she removed a small piece of gummy material. One more dip into the bag and she had an eyelash. She pressed the eyelash into the gum as she walked after the tiefling, wrapping the gum around it. Her voice spoke on its own, speaking words she did not know, her hands moved of their own accord, weaving in the air as she faded from sight. Now, Alanicia, take me to Rhedoc.

VI.

Alanicia did not disappoint, apparently. She wandered into a hut, and Cierra pressed up to a window. Surely enough, there was Rhedoc, looking haggard and worried. Alanicia walked in the door, and Rhedoc stood, running to her, enfolding the tiefling in a warm embrace. Cierra was almost livid. Her eyes burned, stomach turning within her, hands clenched shut so tightly her knuckles whitened. She was dimly aware of her hands trembling as she watched them kiss through the window. Then the whore looked at her, looked out the window and saw her, grinning triumphantly.

Cierra collapsed in the alleyway where she'd found the window, letting soot and dust settle on her, dulling her silver hair. She wept bitterly, her life empty, desolate. Her mind did not even try to put up a wall, no defense for her, she was not strong enough without him. Then something happened, something she remembered. She rifled though her backpack, finding an old letter wrapped around some spell components, and she read it.

"Oh, and if you see Alanicia, stay away form her. She was keeping me spelled and taking my jink."

That was it! She stood again, casting once more as everything magically enchanted in her vision glowed faintly. Sure enough, Rhedoc glowed. He'd been enchanted, that vile contemptible witch, she'd stolen Rhedoc from her!

V.

Alanicia barely had time to roll to one side as the door exploded. A jet of fire burst into the room, blowing the door to splinters, and melting the iron table, Rhedoc stood, alarmed by the attack. Had the tanar'ri found him? What was happening? Cierra strode into the room like an angel, light dazzling off of her banded armor, her silver hair whipping back behind her like a mane of fury, eyes blazing, flickering in the light of her jet of flame. As the fires died, she hefted the glaive at her side, turning, enraged, on Alanicia.

"He is mine, you will have him no more!" Cierra screamed, her voice carrying the full fury of her own father.

"I've won him from you, give up!" Alanicia shrieked, making a slash with a short sword.

Cierra ducked to one side, slamming down her glaive in one fluid motion full of grace and anger. It caught Alanicia in the back, slicing her open. Without another word, the tiefling ran at full speed out the door, screaming and wailing the whole way.

Then Cierra rounded on Rhedoc. All he saw was the butt of the glaive, then darkness.

VI.

Golden sunlight streamed in the window, hitting Rhedoc's face. He woke slowly, the bed soft and warm, the body next to him softer and warmer. She was laying next to him, of that he was sure, as he wrapped an arm around her, the headache fading slowly from him. Had all that happened? Yes, yes it had, he could smell the burnt wood wafting in the window. He still had scratches and small cuts from the Bebilith, though his memory was more than a bit fuzzy. He remembered kissing Alanicia, laying with her. Never in a million years would that have happened, no sodding way. Rhedoc Gwydion knew better than to do that, and Cierra was a thousand times more important to him than to waste her on one night with a tiefling. Nope, Rhedoc Gwydion would never be unfaithful to his beloved Cierra. End of story. Must have beena dream

As he woke, Cierra simply smiled. She'd won, her victory sweet, and her reward sweeter. He was warm and soft, and he held her when he thought she was asleep. Then she heard him talking, muttering to himself. Something about never being with a tiefling, stupid dreams, and so forth. She simply smiled and sighed. My silly aasimar.