· · · · · · ·
Dead, dead, all dead. Good thing she hadn't joined the fray.
Cerberus had ditched Paracelsus at the machines of the dock and fully, totally, absolutely intended to go back home. It was just that her road led her through the forest, and after her darlings confirmed the failure of the rebellion, she wasn't in a hurry anyway so she walked. Better to spare energy.
So she came across Belphegor's miniature court, huddled in a shrub. Even Durahanem was there, despite being a warrior.
"Well well, look who didn't join the battles," Cerberus said. "What's your lot here, hmm?"
"Kolraun locked down," Durahanem said. "I went to find them when they didn't show up and stuck around till he could move. What happened?"
"An amazing, spectacular loss. Almost everyone is confirmed dead," Cerberus said, with a look at her little puppets. "Isn't that right, dears?"
"We suspected. And where were you?" Durahanem asked.
"I bailed, of course," she said. "No point getting myself killed."
"Is lady Belphegor alive?" Adva sniffed.
"We smelled a nice speck of blood that was her," Coco said.
Aaaaand there were the sad faces. Ugh.
"What about Azazel?" Durahanem asked.
"Some purple blood," Mimi said. "Does he dissolve like gods do?"
"No, he fell too far. I suppose lord Lucifer might dissolve, but Azazel never glows, does he?" Cerberus said. "Anyway, we do we even care? We aren't high priority, but the rag demon is, isn't he?"
Aww crap, we?
Then again, she could teleport herself if she had to. It wouldn't hurt to move them on their way, in case Belphegor showed up again and would complain about her servants being gone. The red light district would be a quiet day today anyway.
"Darlings, go find us a safe route to the underground, okay?"
"Will do!" Mimi and Coco poofed away.
"Okay, you lot follow me. You can't stay here in the hills, they report stray demons especially now."
At one of the smaller entrances, they ran right into a farmer with his carriage heading out. There was a surprising lack of scowling.
"Oh, hello," the farmer said. "You really should head in and find shelter as soon as possible, we just had a horrible demon attack! I know a good inn not too far."
"What?"
"Yeah, I know it's hard to believe. This is Anatae, home of the great Charioce XVII, but look ..." He pointed at the collapsed wall and the peak of a frozen dragon head a little further. "It was a true disaster. They're still hunting down the terrorists and there's word of ghouls too, folk who look normal but act strange ... you're not ghouls, are you?"
"No, not at all. What direction is that inn?" Cerberus asked.
After the man pointed them the way and they were out of earshot, Cerberus said, "Rita's fog still works, but it won't be long before people figure out what's up. If anyone turns on us, you split, got it?"
The group nodded.
"Good. As long as they don't, follow my lead."
The roads were too quiet, except for clusters of shouts. When they crossed a city square, they saw the source of one of them.
A mob had gathered around a group of demon slaves, and two humans. They were in the middle of stringing them up on trees, ropes and pitchforks at hand, no doubt seeing them all as humans.
The wimps wanted to turn back, but a human had already spotted them. Cerberus wasn't in the mood for a chase.
"Keep walking, stand still when I move towards them." That fog better be giving them some fitting illusion. "Then complain a bit about us having to get home cause some damn demon attacked our mom and she's bleeding."
Cerberus rushed ahead and kicked one of the demons on the ground in the head. "Serves you filthy lot right!"
"Don't go dirtying your pretty shoes on that, madam," one of the men said. "A lovely lady such as yourself really shouldn't be out at this dangerous time."
"Do you need any help getting home?" another man asked, that eager glint in his eyes. The kind that wanted more than help.
"No, we wouldn't want to bother you," Cerberus said with her sweetest smile. "Thank you for keeping the streets safe, we barely got away from those other demons."
"It's our pleasure, miss," he said with a congenial smile.
Cerberus pranced back to the group. "Come on, dear mother, let's get you home!"
At the edge of the slums, her dogs returned.
Coco reported a raid to find anyone related to the rebellion. The definition of anyone was any demon who the knights felt like murdering.
They entered the empty underground anyway, looking for survivors.
The tunnels had been ransacked. Burned food lay scattered and Belphegor's lab had exploded. The scent of blood lay thick over the place, not because there had been many left to kill, but because the infirmary had been set on fire. Demons burned poorly.
Adva would have walked in, muttering something about her friend that she had to find, but Cerberus hauled her out and told Durahanem to keep her close.
Mimi poofed back on her hand. "There's someone in the walls, ruff."
"Well, let's check that out, shall we?"
Down an unused corridor, unfinished yet, they found a single hidden door. Durahanem tapped the code and the rocks folded outward.
A long spider leg hooked around the walls, followed by Arachna's shy face.
"Oh, alive ones. Come in, quick."
Within was a narrow corridor. The moment Arachna closed the door, a light went up.
That woman with glasses, Trismegistus probably, leaned against a back wall. Nonchalantly she placed a purple sphere back on a torch and with a sighed said, "Well, the tracker is here."
Adva found that friend of hers in a not so well state, Durahanem questioned someone about the possibility Nishaol might have been by but got scared off by the raid. Kolraun looked present now, and started a headcount.
That normal human woman was there too, somehow.
"What're you still doing here?"
"They thought I was a traitor," she spat. "I had to hide."
Everyone else was someone sick or half broken.
"So, this is it, eh?" Cerberus said. "How lousy. Oh well, try to get out of the city at dark, there's no life left here if you were seen by the wrong people."
"There's no life left for any of us if the captives talk," Trismegistus said. "They took Dante and Azazel. I don't know much after the former, but Azazel has no reason to not sell any of us out."
"How would you even know that?" Cerberus asked.
"Well, I experienced enough of Azazel to understand he is a murderous selfish piece of shit—"
"No, I meant how you know who got captured."
"Oh! I followed the group into the city, made a wall to hide behind once things got too violent in our direction." She brushed her hands across the wall and the crude rock turned into bricklike shapes. "Alchemy is my trickery. You know any way I can make that work out better for this little rebellion, than what Azazel had in mind?"
"What, me?"
All heads turned to her.
"No. No! Don't look at me. I did my job, I'm not doing more! No."
· · · · · · ·
Of all the places Belphegor expected to wake up, a rich room wasn't it. The place was somber and old, but expensive, the kind that people didn't build to live in. In her corner a wide bed with curtains around the two open ends, a table at the wall, a few book shelves with little on it. Rich wood, no life.
The sun rose during the time she was awake, but remained a dim light beyond the persistent fog. Her own thoughts weren't disimilar.
Everyone was ...
The bed was well enough and the place had been cleaned. Someone had bandaged her legs too and she didn't bleed anymore.
None of this fit. Blurs of crawling into an ally, someone carrying her off, then a horse. Evidently someone had taken her, but
She could only wait, alone with her thoughts, and she didn't even care that much to learn.
· · · · · · ·
El didn't feel like having slept, yet her eyes were closed. Sensing around, nobody familiar was close. Not even humans. For the first time in years, she had no idea where Azazel was. Even her mother was so far she couldn't sense her anymore.
Sofiel had taken her at the worst time. Had anyone survived? Had they won? Or worse, lost?
She forced her eyes open, though she didn't know what to do from there on.
A silk veil fluttered above and she lay in a bed softer than ever before. When sitting up her elbows sank deep into the pillow; she'd been cradling it without knowing why.
The room was brighter and cleaner than anything she'd ever seen. Marble pillars lined perfectly smooth walls, which had been engraved with figures El saw no meaning in. Flameless candles were all over the room and basins of water with a pleasant radiance lay in a circle around the bed.
There was nothing else in the room except a table with a few chairs. There sat a true god — the pure power emanating from her gave it away — in the form of woman with wide mint colored hair that didn't quite care for gravity. As she stood up, her ornate white gown likewise floated as if she was unbound by earth. A shimmer of rays lay on her outline, her white wings most of all.
She wasn't quite like her mother had described Gabriel, who in the past wore more gold. Now the only gold about her were her eyes, which belied what El could sense deep down : Gabriel was not kind.
Her smile might fit someone who was, that unsettled El more than anything.
"El, I am so pleased to meet you." She spread her arms. "We have long awaited you. My name is Gabriel. Has your mother told you of me?"
El nodded. Since Zeus's sacrifice, Gabriel ruled heaven. The holiest being in existence, but that no longer sounded right.
"Then surely you understand what we can do for each other. If you take your righteous place as the successor of Michael, we will be able to save your mother."
She brushed El's bangs aside, revealing the red eye. El had to resist the urge to draw back. Two years of fear it had made it feel natural to hide.
"You are tainted with demon blood. It will get in the way of transforming you to your true nature," Gabriel said. "So, we shall purify you first. You must cooperate with this. Once you are pure, my magic will raise you to the godhood you were always intended for. How does that sound?"
Her mother had always said Michael had granted her El in the hopes they would be happy. That's all El knew. Gabriel sounded like she wanted something.
"Once the scars on your throat are healed, we will speak at length, but for now you might use a lesser method."
Gabriel gestured at the cabinet next to the bed, where paper and a sleek golden pen lay. El crawled over to it and tried to write. Hopefully Gabriel could read human language.
My mother is missing. The Onyx Knights took her. I know where she is, but I cannot get there. Will you help me find her if I help you?
Gabriel delicately took the paper.
"Of course," she said. "You will be happy to learn our goals are the same, for we seek to overthrow our common enemy, Charioce XVII. That is what we must do before we can save your mother."
That did make sense. That king was everyone's enemy. If he was still a threat, then Azazel and his friends must have failed. El hoped they'd gotten away.
"Will you help us save your mother and bring peace to the world, El?"
El nodded eagerly. It didn't matter Gabriel wasn't kind. She wasn't vicious either, and El needed all the help she could get. She'd save everyone if she could, her mother, all her friends, and Azazel if he still ... well, if he didn't become an enemy. She hoped he would not. He better not.
· · · · · · ·
It didn't even feel wrong anymore to be stored away in some filthy human cellar. Quite fitting, actually.
When he had come to Anatae after the fall of Cocytus, he'd come in the name of pride alone. Now pride had broken apart to reveal there were bigger failures than humiliation. Only one thing could matter : he had to save the demons. He couldn't even do that.
Favaro pried an account of the failed rebellion out of him and wanted to know about Rita and Kaisar. Azazel answered in short sentences, only what was necessary to get him to shut up and leave. Azazel didn't trust him. This human had been a notorious liar and there was something wrong with how he was able to coax magic out of him.
It was a relief when he finally said, "Hey, I'm gonna have a look around for Kaisar. I could catch him on patrol, he doesn't change habits much. Nina, you stay here."
"Okay, teacher."
Somewhere beyond the cellar door, the baker asked, "Uh, are you sure that's safe? Leaving when that, uhm, that demon is here?"
"Come on, old man, I know what I'm doing. I always do, or Bahamut would've scorched the world already."
The sound of Favaro clapping someone on the shoulder, then Nina shut the cellar door. She lit a candle and approached him. Bits of bread where still on her cheek. She'd been gorging no doubt. How she could after all that happened — but of course she didn't remember any of it.
She put the candle on a crate, rearranged a few sacks and sat before him. "Can we talk?"
As if saying no would stop her.
"Are you the same Azazel who invaded Anatae?"
"Like I'd let anyone have my name."
She swallowed.
"Adva said you had a torture hall. Was that just to get information, or do you think hurting people is fun?"
"You once asked me what it feels like to kill : power indeed, but power is boring when one is as strong as I am. The best murders were those that struggled in interesting ways. Then it felt delightful. I sought the way humans could break and explode. Your teacher knows me. Personally. Did he ever tell you of a demon and the game of revenge?"
Nina shivered. Maybe he had told her.
"What was that about getting the key for Lucifer, that chimera? What about invading Anatae?"
"What does it matter? It done, and she's dead. You can ask your teacher about that too."
"I want to hear it from you."
He kicked the sacks she sat on, tearing it open.
She stood up and crossed her arms, stubborn more than anything now.
How much could he get her to hate him with just the truth? Enough to kill him, or just to leave him alone. No, Nina wasn't the right one. Nina didn't have the heart to ever be a murderer anyway, not without going dragon.
"Azazel?"
She really had no sense of timing, did she? He didn't want to talk about how he failed to conquer Anatae now of all times. But alright. He could give her some ugly truths, maybe that would shut her up.
"There were no gods at all, just Jeanne d'Arc. I could have sneaked in with the damn cat to distract her. It just never occurred to me not to take an army when going to a human city."
"That's it? Just because?"
"That's how we demons do things," he said.
"That's not the demons I know. Not most of them, at least." She sounded so strained. "I doubt Siem and Kiprio do that, and I don't think Belphegor felt very nice about hurting people by accident. You know, there's a lot of them who just want to live in peace. So that answer is dung."
He looked away.
"I don't understand how you can be awful for at least as long as Rita lived and now you're ... not that. I don't think, at least. How does that work?"
That he knew, at least. Nina had this way of looking out of her eyes that pleaded like. Not quite as good as Mugaro, she had a bit too much fire for that, but still ... It wasn't as obnoxious a question as the plans he didn't have anyway.
"We gods are made to endure millenniums. Humans with their short lives need dynamism and change to progress, we who live eons need stability. Single interests can last us ages without need for reconsideration or alternation. Lord Lucifer has his books. It was always humans for me, even before I fell.
Best not to aid humans too much, Uriel always said, louder than even Gabriel. Reverence was best, they were always farmers of faith. That didn't work so well me. I tried helping them when I was an angel, and I paid for it. As a demon, I didn't need faith. We needed fear, and that affected what I wanted from humans, so I played with them. I farmed something other than faith or fear. What reactions I could twist out of their ordinary lives, see the upheaval a single strong emotion could cause.
Lord Lucifer has joked defects like mine are why Gabriel fears angels who encroach to humans too much. Maybe it wasn't a joke."
"Farming. You had to do bad things to stay strong, is that it?"
"Are you looking for an excuse? Too bad. No, I didn't get immediate benefits from the fear I sowed. If hell's energy thrives, birth rates go up, food grows aplenty, range of spell casting increases, pacts grow stronger. Not individual might. What I got was convenience and entertainment."
"But ... " She trailed off. He'd won, he'd said enough.
"What more do you want? If you can't kill Charioce, go home, let us rot."
"No! No, I do think the demons have to be saved. This kingdom isn't going right. But what you did wasn't okay either, and I noticed the other demons are afraid of you. I saw Mugaro run. You never told me about you ... How can I make a fair decision to join if I don't know what I'm really joining? I have to know what would happen if you have this city are your mercy."
It was so tempting now to tell her he would slaughter everyone and burn the city down, one little lie to drive her out that door. A mere decade ago it wouldn't be a lie. All would be easier if that hadn't become the kind of thing he'd liked to play with once.
For once he really couldn't stand Nina to be here. Dante, Belphegor, Eligos, everyone else was dead and Mugaro was gone and she just sat there and had to remind him of everything else he had done wrong.
"What you decide doesn't matter anymore. There's nothing left to decide over. You're worthless to me and to the demons this way. None of your damn talk helps anything, so just shut up already."
And let him mourn.
"Fine, be that way!"
She spent the rest of the time on the other end of the cellar, behind a stack. Azazel closed his eyes and pretended to know peace.
· · · · · · ·
Belphegor had been staring at the door until it opened. When the captain of the Orleans Knights stepped in, she was both surprised and aggravated.
Rita had insisted he would not be killed no matter how obnoxious he got. She'd agreed easily. If she met him she'd knock him out, but after hearing him be part of slaughtering her friends there was much more bitterness behind it. That he'd spared her did only a little to diminish that.
"Ah, you're awake." He set down a tray on the table. "How are you doing?"
Everyone was gone. Dante, Eligos, even Azazel. How was she? Empty would be nice, but she was here. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't go there.
"I'm alive, and I suppose curious about why."
"I managed to bring you back due to that fog concealing you as human. I first brought to your home, but Cerberus wasn't there and I didn't want to leave you unattended and unconscious in the red light district."
"I don't live with her anymore anyway," she said. That, and Cerberus might be dead.
"You don't? But, Cerberus said all the women had returned."
He wasn't answering her question, was he? Why was she alive?
"She lied," Belphegor said. "When did you even speak?"
"I was there ... celebrate an honor I had been bestowed. My knights had convinced me to come. For what it's worth, I never hired any women for myself."
"There's not many of us to hire, when of us were brought here against our will. There is a different word for that, human."
He looked down. "I merely meant to assure you that I won't lay a hand on you. You can stay here until you are healed. I advise you against going near the windows, though the fog would obscure you to those outside, your human illusion still stands out since there are few people with a dark skin color."
"And you have a reputation to keep."
"That is also true," he said. "Uhm, I have a housekeeper around here. I told her that you're from the red light district and were injured, and I brought you here fearing for your safety if left alone there. She comes by every morning and won't speak of your presence, but only as long as she sees you as human. Try to open the window covertly so enough of Rita's fog comes in."
She propped up on her elbows. "You're aware Rita did this? Just how much did you figure out about our rebellion?"
"Please lay down, miss. I wasn't aware of anything other than that it happened and you might have poison mist spells. I know of Rita's fog because first met her within it."
That would be why he knew a trick to counter it. "How long until your housekeeper learns a handkerchief with anti dote wards off the fog?"
"She won't think it's necessary to wear inside," he said. "I will ensure she does not. You will be safe here. This is the mansion of my family, it was restored to me by Charioce XIV. It won't be raided or searched."
Belphegor ran her hands over her face. Here she was, with this guy. He might not have the mind set of a murderer, but he would value his rank over doing what was ... right. If there was anything like that. She supposed she didn't have a point to demand righteousness from anyone, the world lacking a basic law about it. That didn't mean she wasn't bitter about the blood on his hands, be it directly or indirectly.
Kaisar sat on the edge of the bed. "I have to tend to your injuries, would you mind trying to set up?"
"I would mind. I can reach my legs, let me do it myself." She held out her hands, and he gave her the bandages and medicine.
"The wound at your neck—"
"I will handle it."
He stood up and opened the door to leave, but paused to say, "Azazel isn't dead yet."
She couldn't stop her wall from going down for a moment, and sounding hopeful. "Did he escape?"
"Yes, but I'm afraid that might not last long. We've gotten words of his whereabouts. Listen, if there is a way that I could help him escape, I will."
She sank back into the pillow. "Will you really? Can you vow that on your honor?"
He turned his eyes down, might even look sad, but she didn't buy it. He could just be mourning his honor.
When alone, she struggled with the bandages and medicine. Human matter was still so primitive, and she wasn't specialized in healing. Be it her injuries or her losses, she had little energy left to give.
It took her long to finish. Once done, she hid under the blankets, but burried the side of her face against the wall. It was too hard, but hell was all tough places, and it was what she needed. After running from hell for centuries, she now wanted nothing more than to go back.
· · · · · · ·
"Uhm, Nina, could you come out here for a moment?" the baker said from upstairs.
"What is it?"
"I have some hair dye and clothes for you. The bathroom's free."
Nina left.
And stayed away.
Too long.
He didn't expect her to burst in to show off her new look now, but she shouldn't be up there too long. They were supposed to be hiding here, after all.
What if something was wrong? She was vulnerable to a lot of things, including stupid humans. He could still lose her when everyone else was gone already.
So he got up, despite himself.
The cellar door stood partially open, but he heard no chatter or talk anywhere. Definitely not right. Nina had either left into the open or something had gone wrong inside.
He just barely sensed the weight dropped right behind him before it was too late.
A collar shut around his neck. Heat scorched his skin as magic welded it together. Right away, the collar's power bore right into his flesh. All the force of a sphere concentrated into his neck like a thousand frozen needles, he buckled through his knees and could only scream.
Black metal boots surrounded him, fingers bore into his arms as he was dragged onto the street.
A human crowd had gathered, held back by city guards. And he was the display.
When they threw him to the pavement the spell ceased, but before he could get up an Onyx Knight stepped on his back.
One jerked the cloak off of him and held it up, another pair of hands tore loose some of the bandages on him — for injuries today, but once his disguise as the rag demon.
"Behold, the scourge of Anatae," one of the Onyx Knights said. "The rag demon."
The crowd backed away, but didn't flee. They stared with hatred and awe, mutters growing to shouts and curses.
Two knights forced his arms onto his back and tied them with wire that sent the same needless through his skin. The one keeping him down extended the wrist blade and sliced open his back, cutting short even the chance of growing his wings out.
A second burst of power went from the collar, and this time they let it go on. He lost time and they found rocks to hurl at him, along with all the curses they knew for the demons that had torn into humankind.
When it stopped, he bled more than he should. He could only lay there breathing.
It was over. He couldn't do anything right. He hadn't just failed Dante, Belphegor and everyone else. He'd failed his people for centuries already.
Between the crowd he spotted a familiar face, under a hood and with brown hair now. If he'd just dropped her to her death, if he'd never started caring for anything but the demon clan's pride, he wouldn't be here. But he was.
She didn't do anything. Why would she anyway?
Run.
She still stood there.
Run already.
A wyvern landed nearby and a knight hauled him into chains, ready to be dragged to the palace.
Nina backed away, until he couldn't see her anymore.
Azazel dropped his head and found peace in the thought of giving up.
· · · · · · ·
"Nina, please understand. The Onyx Knights confirm that was the rag demon. He led that assassination! I don't know what he told you, but we've been terrorized by him for years. I'll testify for you," Marcio said. "That demon's just been using you, I'm sure the court will understand that he threatened you."
"But he didn't threaten me."
Marcio had led Nina to Emeline and Burkhart's place. He sat there with a hefty dose of money in his lap and now insisted Nina turn herself in because he'd returned from the knightly headquarters with word she too was searched for.
"Nina, you don't understand right. You can't just go defy the laws, they exist for a good reason. To protect us against demons. You can't say or do anything that implies you've been corrupted by them. I know you're a good girl, but the judges don't."
Marcio had to know something was wrong, because he'd gotten her disguised before leading her out. If he distrusted the kingdom's leadership so much, why even defend it?
She couldn't fight so many knights, probably. But if she'd gotten Azazel free ... she didn't want to think about it, but some part of he had said that maybe he wasn't worth saving. What a choice. If she was free she could help more than just one and probably people less criminal, but every bit of that reasoning revolted her. She didn't want to have to make such choices. Weighing whether someone was good enough to risk herself for, and then leaving someone behind just to bet on herself. It wasn't fair and it shouldn't have to happen.
Favaro eventually burst in, ignoring the protests of the shop owners. "That went so wrong."
"Teacher! What happened?"
"Kaisar was preparing his knights to go capture Azazel," Favaro said. "Or at least back up for the Onyx Knights. Guess that's one thing that worked out, there's a lot less of the black cans around. We still gotta leave the city, Nina. It's over."
"We're not leaving this city."
"Pretty sure your mom didn't send you off to get into a war, or get cleaned up in the aftermath. You're 17, Nina. You still gotta listen to your parents."
"I'm really not, and do you even have a plan other than just going where the wind blows? Everyone we have to save happens to be here!"
Favaro shrugged. "If we don't scram, we're gonna need saving."
"You can't just keep winging it, teacher! Eligos said a no one's getting anywhere if they run around just betting they're gonna be strong enough to win everything."
"It's called fleeing and Eligos is dead, isn't he?"
Nina blinked. "Wait ... that's not an argument against the stuff he said. Anyway, we need to organize better. We need human allies like Cerberus has."
Favaro looked around the room, at the three doubtful faces who wanted her to turn herself in. She had to admit she sounded silly in this scenario, but the idea stood.
"You guys aren't gonna start a rebellion to save some demons, right? Tell her," Favaro said.
"Of course not! Why would we?"
"Oh boy. Fine. Look, the king's corrupt," Favaro said, holding up his bracelet. "He has a bounty out for me. Not the divine kind."
"The king ended the centuries of torment demons wreaked on our nations! He subjugated an ancient evil that by far predates you," Burkhart said.
Favaro stood up and dropped his pants.
"What the, no!" Nina yelped. The rest of the room similarly feared, only to find Favaro still wore his underpants.
It was the tail that stood out now, a black thing with a triangle at the end.
"I've been having this things since years, haven't got the slightest difference in how evil I am, folks. I still wanna scram, but my student does have a point on the great evil that predates me."
"Please put your pants back up," Emeline said.
Nina sighed. Favaro and his ways. Even she could have more tact.
"Everyone, I know what I'm talking about. Well, I think I do a little more now. There's an old lady in my home town. She never called herself a demon, but she still is. She's just doesn't want people to think of her as a demon because of what that word carries. And I think I get it now."
"Nina, what do you mean?" Emeline clutched her hands. "You can't be a demon, right?"
"I'm a descendant of demons who wanted to live on earth," she said. "There isn't anything like evil blood and your king knows it, because he hired dragons like me to fight for him."
"That's what that ice block creature is?" Burkhart asked.
"Yes, in full form, he'll change shape if he wakes up. Our kind probably left hell because our forms were too great for its corridors. Some like my ancestors became the friends of humans."
"Did you join the rag demon to free the other demons?" Emeline asked.
"Eventually, I didn't even think anything was wrong with how the demons were treated when I got here. It was only after the Orleans Knights attacked me that I got involved. Azazel saved me, and I saved him. I've become a dragon for our sakes and I've done it for all demons now. I failed to defend them, while my kin succeeded at protecting the king. They joined with Charioce on less of an accident, I bet. It was demons that defended your kingdom, and if that's evil, your king is allied to evil."
"Nina, that doesn't make sense ..." Emeline muttered.
"Just wait and see what happens when that big dragon is defrosted," Nina said. "That's all I ask."
Nina didn't have much hopes they'd do anything. They didn't even have the power, being simple citizens. But maybe they'd be a little kinder to demons in the future.
"Teacher, I'm not leaving. Not until everyone is dead I won't, and we're far from that." She stood and and went for the door. "My tomorrow is here."
Favaro grinned. "I can't tell whether you're getting it better than me or worse."
"We'll see soon."
Nina had one more ally to ask help from, who might just have concrete power.
· · · · · · ·
The throne room didn't have enough carpet for all the people Charioce had to fit on their knees today. He had the council room dusted off and a better head chair hauled in there before the meeting took place.
That this meeting even had to happen was an affront. Rearrange his forces, so late in the game? And of course that damn black specter had to hover around today.
The situation was painful. That gas hadn't been designed to kill directly, but it slowed down enough for the zombies to make short work of anyone. Add a few demons to pry armor off and voila. The very best of his Onyx Knights had dropped like flies all around him, only to turn into zombies with all the skills of an empowered human. Lao had to burn them all.
Now he had all these outsiders falling into his lap to fill the gap in his forces. George could be called reasonable, but two of Azazel's lackeys defecting? He'd call it fate's fortune, if fate had not been so cruel.
Merlin and Athos were humans once more as Azazel had broken their pact, but Merlin was still useful as a sorcerer. That gray dragon could be unfrozen, perhaps he was alive and payable still. Lao's flattering words might indicate loyalty, or might be a ruse to get an untidy job over and done with.
Progress on creating airships that didn't outright rely on demonic creatures had advanced, but they were still slow floating islands that wouldn't be able to match with heaven's refined vessels, which left him with a problem now that heaven had the holy child and its inconvenient immunity.
His four dull political advisers and the equally dull Chabrol had already seated in the half circle before him. Their chatter concerned the raid on the slums, which hadn't given them much more than a few tunnels full of sick demons. Difficult to spin as a terrible invasion force that justified this disaster. Poison gas that caused a cough wasn't very spectacular. They could play it as a curse, but it wasn't a curse and they had no idea how to replicate it — couldn't cast it in the arena for a demonstration.
On top of that, he was about to hire another woman in an important position. Jeanne had already been there, she hadn't done as intended, hadn't feared him enough. Merlin looked like another trouble case like that, taking the center seat opposite of him without hesitation. He needed her right now, though.
"So tell me, what exactly drew your interest to my kingdom when you served the lord of another?" he asked her.
"I seek out the greatest human kings of the era," she said. "I am destiny's servant, whisperer of prophecy if it suits me enough. Fate speaks kindly of you."
Did it now? He wasn't so sure after the Nina incident.
"Did fate speak kindly of serving demons?"
"I traded, rather than serve the scapegoat. Fate was not always kind to my road. I might have sought to defy it once but I have since accepted its directions. Do my choices not serve you well, oh king who overthrew heaven and hell?
"So it would seem. Merlin, you serve under him," he said, gestured at raccoon guy as he dutifullys stepped forward.
"I am George Diels,leader of the Onyx Knights."
"Perhaps you did not hear me right. I am no knight but a guide," Merlin said. "What would you have me do with them?"
"We publically called them knights to appease the population," Charioce said. "They are more of a task force, however. They don't waste time on civil matters. You need to provide them back up for the magicial deficiencies they lack."
"Back up. Hmm. My skills lay in advising kings and laying out the future of a realm," she said. "And you want me to provide back up?"
"My kingdoms runs fine on its own, but my task force does not, unfortunately. You went through some effort to prove yourself on my side, so I'm willing to entertain your allegiance. On that note, Athos, why don't you bring in your proof?"
Athos had happened to have known where the zombie master was and captured her alive. Probably to show off, otherwise he'd be delivering the corpse of such a tiny girl, who would be impressed by that?
Such a tiny thing. Pale as death, barely an expression, neatly cut black hair with a dark blue dress and one of those tiny ornamental hats. Quite the little lady, if she'd been alive. The kind proud but poor parents show off.
When Athos pushed her to her knees between table and throne, she locked eyes with Charioce. Within it, he found no child. She was old in ways that seemed right out of his grasp, but at the same time he couldn't respect her. What had she achieved with her life, after all?
Athos grabbed the back of her head and pushed her to the ground. "Kneel better, girl."
Kaisar flinched at that.
"Is something the matter, captain?" Charioce asked.
"I had not expected a child," he said. "Is such rough treatment necessary?"
"It's not a child," Athos said. "It's another pact mate of Azazel. A rather filthy one, I don't think this one could even live without the pact."
"This master is the cause of that zombie army," Merlin said. "And she may have a hand in that fog, if I overheard them right."
"That gives us a chance to turn the tide and hold the reigns. Well done, Athos. I do believe he has earned a place among our knights, does he not, Kaisar?"
He gestured at Kaisar to step closer to the front and introduce himself. Athos faced him with a respectful head bow.
"My name is Kaisar Lidfard, captain of the Orleans Knights," he said. "We would be honored to have your service."
"I might be honored, if your honor lays loose of the church," he said. "Forgive me the doubt, your order was but a small grain back in my day. As was this entire kingdom."
"We have no ties to the church," Kaisar said easily enough. "Our honor is born from our own code of chivalry."
"Then my honor it will be as well," Athos said.
Kaisar muttered some words about mutual honor and looked tenser than ever. Charioce itched to know what exactly this man's ties to the demons were, but there was no convenient way to find out yet.
"What methods might we try to eradicate a being that already is undead?" Chabrol asked.
"A number of the undead enemy were skeletal and did not respond to head injuries, so we burned them all with fire," Kaisar said with a thick throat. Charioce might just relieve some of his stress, just now, but not for his sake.
"We keep the zombie master alive."
George had that little tendency to stare extra hard when he disagreed. Too bad.
Charioce had been avoiding his living quarters, because of a painful little situation there. Painful in that he didn't want to clean it up — the thing there itself wasn't dangerous. It remembered him. All. Too. Well. And he had to find out how much of that was true.
"We have a problem with the power of Dromos draining our life force, and now our enemy has someone who tampers with life and death. We need to learn more. She will oblige our requests, because I believe we have someone who matters to her," Charioce said. "While investigating the slums, we aquired a few interest bits of information. She treated the injuries the rag demon sustained from the power of Dromos, which means two things. One, she has experience remedying its effects. Two, she is aware he was the rag demon and did not turn him over, despite otherwise having a reputation to insist on her money. I believe we can arrange a different payment system, or am I wrong?"
The girl's ability to keep the exact same dead glare on her face was either admirable or just a defect in her facial muscles, but he suspected the former.
"You keep Azazel alive?" Merlin asked. "Are you aware he can teleport when he has enough energy? Even when hell is so low on sharing power, he should still be able to go some way."
"Don't worry. We developed a radiance that prevents this ability, based on the power of Dromos. Every other power he has, we will be able to counter as well."
He'd ordered one to be made after Lucifer got away exactly like that. Little technical failures like that had been aplenty, that was one of the worst.
He had won the battle with Lucifer, of course, but that wasn't easy to prove. He teleported away sounded like a weak excuse, regardless of its truth. If he had been able to return from hell with Lucifer's head on a spike, he would have had a much easier convincing the population heaven was obsolete. He could have told them that they hadn't ever cared to defeat the lord of hell, finding it useful to keep them alive to stimulate reverence for the gods.
For now, he had to work with what he had. He might die, but his legacy had to thrive. Even if the means were more unsavory than he had envisioned.
· · · · · · ·
Rita's fog was even thicker within the park. Nobody was around but herself, and she dared hope Chris. They had a date the day after the assassination on her intent, Nina had hoped he'd show up so she could make sure he was safe from there on. Now it was the other way around and she needed help. Be it support, a place to hide, or a way to turn into a dragon, ... okay, maybe not that last one. She couldn't trust herself in that form anymore.
Sh hesitated to wait at the bench they met, or the gazebo he'd probably pass on his way there. Unable to sit still, so she walked back and forth.
It was Chris who met her in the middle of that little trek. She almost didn't notice him in in his white clothes, ghosting out of the fog as he did.
"Nina." He held out a hand and she laid hers in it, glad for the first truly comforting touch since everything had fallen apart. "I was afraid you wouldn't show up with yesterday's disaster."
"I had to exactly because of that. Chris, I have to tell you something important."
"As do I," he said. "I believe it's best we get this over with soon."
The bushes rustled and black shapes emerged. In Nina's double sight, the fog's magic struggled to shape the forms as more than green humanoids. Only as they got closer did she see them right.
A dozen Onyx Knights surrounded them. She pulled her whip out, ready to defend herself before she remembered she had to be careful. In the struggle she might hit Chris ...
Why was he still smiling at her, ignoring the knights?
"Chris?"
He lowered his left sleeve : a bracelet with a shining green stone was upon it, the same kind the Onyx Knights had on their chest.
Nina couldn't move. "Who ... who are you?"
"I told you. It wasn't a lie, but not the full truth either. My name has always been Chris, but ten years ago, my father died without legal heir. The same event that took my mother allowed me to go to the palace as she had always wished, where I became Charioce XVII."
"No way ..."
"I am not the only one who has been silent on their double life, Nina," he said. "Are you not the red dragon?"
She had to find her voice before she could say, "I'm not." She was the magenta dragon.
"Really? I wonder who ate all that food then, which you bought with my ring?"
He couldn't be. This was simply too absurd to be real. In what world could she fall in love with ... with whom really? Chris and Charioce were the opposite, one so kind and the other so cruel, they couldn't exist as one. They shouldn't.
The Onyx Knights encroached, too many of her to handle at once. She looked for a way out, but they were so much faster. The blow landed on the back of her neck.
Chris didn't smile anymore as she dropped down. Then the world stopped.
· · · · · · ·
He alone had been the one to see her come at him in that illusion fog as Nina. Probably every ally who had been there was dead. For all everyone knew, Azazel begging Nina to move might have been her controlling Lao's little degenerate somehow, or she'd been stationed somewhere nearby for another purpose. There were ways to play this off that he could explore.
It wasn't like he needed to put up an act before his Onyx Knights, they already knew who she was and that he had an interest in her. But it was a test for himself, the kind only fate could provide.
Nothing was more important than his goal. He couldn't let a woman, let alone one out for his life, get in the way. These feelings had to be packed up and put aside until the day of his possible death.
What to do with her though?
Keep alive and torture for information?
He didn't want to ruin her that much.
Execute her?
He didn't quite like the idea as much as he should. Especially not the public kind where he would no doubt be expected to watch.
There was no room for trivialities like compassion, so something had to be done. He settled for a public trial with her as a treacherous human. She'd be an example, to be sentenced to the island. He'd die there one day, she might as well be right under his feet and do the same.
As he arranged for this, Chabrol saw it fit to storm into his office. At least, compared to his usual shuffle.
"Your majesty, with all due respect and a great deal it is, why on earth would you risk putting an immune dragon right on top of Project Risiz?"
Lao was rather tight lipped about his little degenerate, but it was clear she had some kind of transformation block or she'd have transformed hours ago. Clearly this was not a pressing threat.
"My word is final," he told Chabrol.
"But your majesty ... wouldn't it be terrible irony if our fated project to stop a dragon ends up sabotaged by a dragon? Please, I beg you, reconsider."
Fate could take its irony and stick it up its arse. If it had him fall in love with his enemy, it clearly couldn't be trusted.
He narrowed his eyes at Chabrol, just enough to indicate anger. The man cowered, muttered an apology and drooped off.
Good dog. Despite his failure of confidence, he knew to fear his king more than a little dragon.
When Chabrol shuffled off, Charioce sat back and allowed himself a moment of reprieve from the forms he had to wrestle through. Nina was a persistent distraction, even now. Something he shouldn't have given in to due to his imminent death. A commoner too, he could not hope to pursue her without jeopardizing his standing. Sure, he had absolute immediate power, but he still needed funds from the aristocracy. Despite everything, they still had the economic advantage, having families and experience to fall back on when he'd just been a cow herder before.
So he ought to be glad he was rid of the distraction now, but that didn't make him desire her less. How absurd. She could have killed him yesterday if only he'd stared at that smile a little longer.
Would she still smile after she lost the sun?
· · · · · · ·
The courtyard was barren in ways the city squares were not. No trees, meticulously clean and no smiles or chatting. Guards, knights of bother order, soldiers, all kinds of royal servants had been gathered for what felt like a cold show.
Nina sat on her knees, hands between wooden blocks enforced with metal. Before her, a pile of the sacks she'd used to bring food to the slums, and beyond that over the stairs a golden throne with red furbishing, radiant even in the fog.
On it, the man she knew as Chris and as Charioce. His face the same, but in his sleek gray clothing with the black fur cape and the blond hair short on his head, he didn't fit with the warm man who took her to dances.
He looked only bored while a judge read charges on Nina.
"You stand accused of letting yourself fall in with demon ideology, leading to your assistance of the demon rebellion ..."
He had to become the enemy in her mind, and she had to turn into a dragon. She looked around for a pretty face, any face, to get excited by ... but none except him drew her desire.
"... the attack on his majesty therefore falls on your shoulders as well ..."
Him alone did her heart beat faster for, which once would've been worthy of a gushing letter home. Now it was a death sentence to all her friends. She had to have recognized him as a dragon and stopped because her stupid dragon self thought he was a friend.
"... and hereby his majesty Charioce himself shall pass the sentence."
All the time his eyes were on her and yet she couldn't even tell what he felt. Only that she herself ached to just get closer again and have back Chris.
Why still him? Her stomach turned without memories truly playing out.
A little detail registered late in the turmoil, why hadn't her accusations involved being the red dragon? What was he playing at?
"Lock her up on the prison island indefinitely." He just said it so coldly, like she didn't matter at all.
Nina's throat thickened and tears stung in her eyes, both sorrow and rage.
Rage won out. He'd been deceiving all along. It didn't even matter whether he'd done it intentionally or not, because every memory, every smile, every motion of their dances felt like betrayal.
"Is this it? All of this? A whole gathering of a hundred people just for a few minutes of condemning me? This isn't a trial, this is a charade! Just like everything you do!"
"Oh? If it's a charade, I would have expected the curtain to have fallen on my kingdom by now. I seem to be running it for real, actually." Chris shouldn't sound sardonic, this was all wrong.
"You run it alright, but not good. All you do is sit on your throne and pick on the weak demons. Even though they built your capital. Even though you need them! You brought them into your home for your own glory! You're nothing but a bully. An evil king. Human and demon fears you, but I don't!" No fear but that the tears would escape her eyes. She couldn't let him see this. "Demons built your glory, they can tear it down again!"
"Demons have torn down our glory for eons, only to fall at the first invasion where we have survived all they threw at us. I don't see much reason to worry."
"That's ... " She didn't know nearly enough of how demons ran things to counter that. Eligos had hated the government, and Azazel had been a top tier. Whatever their reasons for not enslaving the humans en mass were, they probably weren't nice, but that didn't make Charioce right either. Or Chris.
"All you've got is a kingdom without justice, that's why it's a charade, just much as your heroism in oppressing the demons is false!"
"One's hero is another's villain. Of course the demons you side with would see their enemy's valor as a charade."
"They weren't all your enemies. You're not putting this only on the back of Belzebuth or Lucifer, or even Azazel. All of this is done with the blood of innocents and—" She choked on her words. "No, even the guilty shouldn't get what you made law. Suffering itself doesn't rebuild broken walls."
He just sat there, still looking bored. Right then, Nina was sick of men who deemed themselves above talking.
"Say something, Chris!"
One could hear a needle drop in the courtyard.
"What would you want to hear of the king you despise so much?" he asked at last. "Or rather, why would I bother giving you further time? An commoner such as you understands little of the needs of the kingdom, let alone humankind."
Nina grit her teeth and tried to give him her most hateful glare. She knew it didn't work, because he answered that same beautiful smile. It'd looked so soft before only because of the scenario had been kinder. Now it just hurt.
"You'll join many of the same degenerate thinking. Tell them nothing changed out here. Tell them the kingdom thrives and the demons suffer as they deserve. Tell them the gods will soon have nothing to even fall from."
"Carry around that despair yourself if you have to. All I'll tell them is the ways you can fall. What you are will not reign for long and we won't be the last to rise against you!"
"I may hope not. It wouldn't be interesting. Take her away."
· · · · · · ·
Charioce was going to need a lot of distractions from his distraction, and fortunately he had them.
Deep below his castle was a high security dungeon for special guests, right now hosting its highest priority yet. The official order was to interrogate Azazel and his torturers were doing a fine job already, judging from the screams. The information they might get wasn't important, the lair had been easy enough to find.
Azazel been given one of the wider rooms, where the high function material could easily be switched between. Charioce had long since provided the torturers metal infused with the power of Dromos, capable of holding even the stronger demons. His alchemists were in the middle of generating one of the special poisons from hell that could disable even a demon, just as a safety measure. He hung on a vertical rack, up for some standard whipping. They'd already scorched and cut his back and palms to prevent the serpents from manifesting before a collar spell could he chanted. His stark white skin fit the scene well, worse than any human deprived of the sun for years, accentuating the blood and the cold iron wires stuck through his arms.
He didn't resist. Dull. Azazel just hung there with his head down. No glares, no curses, no struggles. He'd given up already? Perhaps that would mean he could be taught tricks more easily, but Charioce doubted that. Many weaker demons had needed more to break them. Oh well, he'd find out what was up soon enough. In the meantime, he had a delightfully dirty scene before him.
The way muscles contracted and released when given a sudden burst of pain was oh so satisfying on his typical enemies. The throes of violent death postponed, for a long, long time.
Charioce waved off the torturer for some privacy and stood before the handiwork. Demons tended to bleed various colors, Azazel bled purple.
"How unsightly." A delighted smile got away from his careful mask, again.
In another dungeon, he had a few survivors of the rebellion, who had been a little more talkative. He had some material to work with.
"I noticed that child arrived rather late, almost like it wasn't part of the plan that he show up."
Azazel averted his face for as little as he could.
"You had no idea who he was, did you? I imagine you would have used him better if you did. Quite the irony, that child using you for safety. What a fool you are."
That was the guess, at least. His sources weren't really sure what the deal was.
"You may have caused me quite a bit of trouble saving him. I had intended to kill him before the gods got that power. Oh well, I'll just be dishing out gifts to the gods then, the theme being death. Then perhaps that will woman cease to pray."
Strained, Azazel lifted his head. "That woman?"
"The saint Jeanne d'Arc. It is her child," Charioce said. "I am told you and her clashed a few times in the past. You're awfully alive for someone she allegedly defeated."
He dropped his head again and didn't respond at all. Dull. Let's add some salt on the wound, see what that gets.
"My father was a coward, you had him tremble without him ever laying eyes on you. Official history books mention him as brave, but I've ensured I know who he truly was. Unlike you, who seem to have quite a few blind spots. Didn't know who the child was, forsaken by your dragon, betrayed by your followers, and I get the impression those gods weren't invited either. I know useless facts about dead people, you can't even trust your allies. That is why hell fell : you all were nothing but a few overpowered fools who simply were never challenged."
Lucifer's right hand had been under his nose for years and Charioce had missed that, but it didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that there was no struggle. As wonderful as having broken enemies at his mercy was, broken didn't mean cooperative or easily played. Some poking was in place.
"So tell me, is that other demon also alive?"
No response, as expected.
"I always pay fair. Answer me this question and I will release one of these wires."
The wires had been stuck through his arm and nailed to the metal ridge of the rack, which was kept cold. Demons tended to be built for the fire, so the frost hurt them even more than it did humans. Add some energy from Dromos and a whip, and let it works its magic. He flicked a finger against the wire, Azazel spasmed.
"What's the point of not answering me?"
Still silent, and ... no, there it was.
"Pazuzu died at her spear," Azazel said.
Good answer. Balads and records indicated that demon had evaporated before Jeanne's eyes, while the hit on Azazel was long distance. The latter thus tended to be more embellished.
Charioce loosened a knob and pulled one single wire out of Azazel's arm, careful not to get any splatters on his own clothing. A strangled noise escaped the demon's throat. The cold metal clanked on the floor. Torture didn't do well if the victim didn't expect some relief. Then again, a little relief meant there was more to hurt later. Well done torture required a balance of relief and rising pain. And he wasn't going to tell the torturer he himself had removed the wire; let him assume Azazel had done it himself and pay accordingly.
· · · · · · ·
Jeanne never had counted the days, it would just drive her mad. She couldn't afford that. She spent her free time in quiet prayer, grasping at the always weak presence of Michael and hoping it wasn't a figment of her imagination. Sometimes she wondered why he could reach out to her but not to the other gods, treacherous little thoughts that shouldn't be pursued. She had resolved long ago not to give into lies such as the gods not caring for humankind, or even her.
When the doors opened and a new prisoner was brought in, put opposite of her cell, she continued praying. It wasn't uncommon they stored troublemakers here for a while, though usually far from her dark end. Slightly odd.
"Hello?"
Jeanne dropped her hands and looked. It wouldn't matter to answer, nothing would change, but she couldn't get it over her heart to ignore another person in this pit.
The newcomer was a young woman with short pink hair in an uneven cut, her features suggesting she might be a foreigner.
"Nina Drango, nice to meet you." The woman even managed a smile, albeit a bit broken one. Still more spirit than Jeanne had heard in years. That made it all the worse to know what this place would do to her soon.
"Jeanne. Likewise," she said.
Nina pushed her face against the bars, trying to look at the cells further down the block. "Anyone else here?"
Silence answered.
"How come nobody else is here?"
"They don't want me to preach to the other prisoners." That and Charioce liked to visit and ramble on killing gods, which he was careful not to let leak anywhere but his closest circles. Random prisoners who might mutter to random guards was inconvenient.
"Why'd that even be a problem? It's not like anyone can get out."
"The king thinks so, because of who I was."
"Who you were, or are? And you said your name was Jeanne? Hey, can you come closer to the torch, please?"
Jeanne didn't see the point of who she had been anymore, but it wouldn't hurt to concede such a simple request.
"Your last name is d'Arc, right?"
"How do you know?"
"You look a lot like on the statue."
A chill ran over her back. He'd left her statue alone even now.
"Why did the king put you here?"
Jeanne wouldn't endorse him and she wouldn't let him kill her child, but that was a deep, painful history she kept her herself. "I would not revoke my loyalty to the gods when he most needed me to."
"How long ago was that?"
"What date is it? Please include the year."
"The year is 1014, August 1," Nina said.
"Then I've been here only two years," Jeanne said. "I don't suppose the outside world changed much in that time."
"I guess he's serious about indefinitely, if just that kept you here so long. Say, I bet you want out."
Oh gods, did she ever.
"I'm only a simple human now," Jeanne said. "And even when I was a saint I was unable to wield my power without a weapon, or even against humans. I cannot do anything, if that's what you hoped for."
"Well, good thing I'm not only a human," Nina said. "And you're still a saint to the people, even without powers. We have to get out, there's a lot to fix out there."
"Please, be realistic. Even if we got out of the prison, we wouldn't reach the shore. The river would tear us along and we'd drown."
"Oh." Nina sat back against the wall, eyes down now.
Jeanne had a map of the tunnels already, but there were always guards at risk of hearing. There had been no chance so far. Though, maybe soon. The cell opposite of her had never been used. If Charioce had a reason to put that woman so near her, she might have an ally.
· · · · · · ·
Gray mist drifted down the stairs with just a trickle of discord on Sofiel's skin. It wasn't much demonic blood on El, but it stood out in heaven so much.
Amid the pillars lay a circular bath full of sacred water overlaid with a purification circle, with a smaller one further down the water. El floated within the water, fingers delicate on the rising soap bubbles and ignoring instructions to pass through the circles for maximum effect.
The holy power resonated with nur soul, but the demon blood still stuck to nur hair. Only a few blond strands peaked through. Whatever magic had been worked on nur was strong enough to last years. Speculation was easily made, Jeanne had sold or otherwise hidden El as a demon slave; demons rarely if ever had blond hair. Whether herself had cast this blood magic, benign as it might be, was a question Gabriel wasn't interested in.
In fact, Gabriel wasn't interested in anything but what El could do for heaven. Quietly, Sofiel ached to learn more of what had happened after Jeanne and El had fled, but she didn't want to rush the child, who must have been through so much.
Besides, question El too much, even by paper, would rouse Gabriel's suspicions when Sofiel already stood on shaky grounds. Her two servants had kept quiet about her brief cooperation with the fallen angel, but if Bacchus or Hamsa during a drunk mood spilled that Sofiel had acted out of bounds ... well, El had also come to aid the demons in their attempt on Charioce, perhaps Gabriel would be more lenient.
She expected El would be given a position, and it was nice to know El wasn't that shy of stepping outside of what felt heavenly. Still, Sofiel had to proceed with caution. Gabriel had a strict protocol established on what El was and was not allowed to know.
The misinterpretation of the old prophecy was off limits. The plans to use Jeanne to bring back Zeus were not to be mentioned. Jeanne was to be presented as one of a line of holy saints, most honored but not that unusual until Michael's blessing. Otherwise, all Sofiel could and should say to El was an explanation of the daily routine. The purification would take days, if not weeks, judging by this speed. Not to mention the generation of nur wings, which hadn't even begun. Was something wrong?
They could hardly leave the child in the water all day, so Sofiel called El out. While folding nur in a fuzzy towel and drying nur's hair off, she took the liberty to whisper, "El, do you remember me? I am the angel who had collapsed on your farm. You and your mother saved me."
El gave her a nod and a sweet smile.
She laid a hand on nur cheek, and to her happiness El in turn place a hand over hers.
"I will save your mother," Sofiel said. "Know that."
Treacherous little words that she should have swallowed, but that wouldn't undo the wish. As she escorted El to nur room, they kept playing over. She didn't want to take them back.
She had known Jeanne d'Arc only from afar. Sofiel was high enough in the ranks to see the visions of her performance, be it in combat of the kindness she displayed to her people. A distant part of her had wondered why the gods did not do similar to the humans. It didn't really do to admire someone, let alone a human, to this degree. Jeanne was lower in rank, earthly even. It came too close to unjust idolization of a lesser being.
And then Michael went and had a child with her. Fornication might not have been involved, but he had used the very avenue they had paved for Zeus's reincarnation just for her sake. Or so Sofiel had assumed. Perhaps Michael had known of the dangerous of Dromos and sought her out to provide the world salvation. That certainly what Gabriel's belief.
Heaven didn't like to admit it didn't know half as much about spirits and the afterlife as humans believed they did. Michael's actions were an enigma. How did a child of his creation somehow end up being able to resist the primordial power of Dromos? How had he been able to create such a child when a mere incorporeal spirit?
Sofiel did the same to her questions as she almost always did, tuck them away and never ask them, because that would displease Gabriel. She'd already done enough of that.
· · · · · · ·