Chapter 18

Since the last time they met, Tyrael apparently had decided to actually start living. What a twist, Lyndon mused.

Haile led him to one of the larger estates located in the center of the city. It had clearly been abandoned during the Reaper attack. Apparently, no noble came to reclaim it, so Tyrael took hold of it with the blessings of Torion.

- Our angelic friend is rolling in dough now, boy – Haile snickered. – Turns out, Torion's a bloody generous man, he paid Tyrael well for his role in saving the world two times. I'm honestly surprised he accepted it.

- Guess Tyrael's learning how the world works – Lyndon half-smiled. – You need money, even to save the world.

- I bet the Hode—Hoda—

- Horadrim.

- Bloody hell. So these mage guys will be useful in the future.

- It's Tyrael's second time forming them, or so I've heard. I'm sure he knows what he is doing.

Haile grunted in agreement and the two men finally said goodbye to each other. Even Quiet mumbled a barely audible "g'bye" in his sleep when he heard Kyla and Geralt wish them goodnight.

With that, Lyndon walked up the few stairs to the entrance, opened the door and stepped in with confidence, hoping to find Tyrael and ask for his help.

He did not expect to find Tyrael so soon, however.

The two men collided on the doorstep with a thud, both of them almost losing their footing. Lyndon stumbled back, but by some miracle, Quiet did not wake up in his arms, only mumbled something and snuggled deeper into the hug. Tyrael shook his head, staring bewildered at his visitor.

- Lyndon? – he asked uncertainly.

- Good to see you too, Tyrael – Lyndon grinned awkwardly. – Listen, can we talk? There is something pretty important I need to ask and—

- I can't – the mortal angel quickly interrupted him. – I am already late from a—meeting.

Only now did Lyndon take a good look at his friend. Tyrael was dressed much differently than his usual attire: he was actually wearing nice robes, cleaned boots and a long leader coat, instead of his usual shaggy and worn-out rags. No armor pieces could be seen either, and El'druin did not hang by his side.

It looked surprisingly good on him.

- Can it wait until morning? – Tyrael asked. – You can stay here, if you want. We have some vacant rooms on the floor above.

- Uhm… I guess I can, but where—

- Great! Make yourself at home here – the angel quickly said, not even glancing at the sleeping package in the scoundrel's arms. – There is some food in the pantry, if you want to eat. I really have to go now, bye!

With that, he pushed past the stunned scoundrel and rushed down the few steps, disappearing into the night air. Lyndon stared after him.

-… Is everyone going mad these days?! – he asked aloud, but of course no answer came.

With one final shrug, Lyndon stepped inside the mansion and closed the door behind him. Looking around, he noted the quite cozy interior with the stone walls, carpets, parquet floors and torches. Tyrael's decision to finally settle down and reform the Horadrim here in Westmarch seemed to have been a good one, especially in this house. It was spacious and large enough to house the order, at least during its startup, and it had been clearly built with practicality in mind, instead of elegance and glamour. Few noble families could claim such thing, and it was a good guess that Tyrael too chose this home specifically for this reason.

Lyndon dragged himself up the stairs, tired from the day's events. Finding the bedroom closest to the stairs, he noted it had two single beds in it. Perfect. He carefully placed the still sleeping Quiet on one, then turned to his own and took off the backpack. After a brief second of staring at the furniture, Lyndon realized he should eat something first. So he went downstairs again, looking for the pantry. The house was strangely empty. The few Horadrim members were probably away on missions or something, he decided as he wandered up and down.

Finally, he stumbled across the pantry and after raiding it for a few pieces of bread and a good bottle of ale, Lyndon continued his aimless walking inside the house. Despite being tired, he somehow didn't feel like sleeping. Instead, his mind kept trying to come up with a way to explain the situation to Tyrael without sounding like an idiot. Seriously, though, how was he supposed to ask the fallen angel for help?

"Hey, can you give me advice on how to bring up baby angels?"

"So Tyrael, up in the Silver City, how exactly do you people take care of space-warping young angels?"

Lyndon sighed deeply. Maybe he really should just go to sleep, but his mind kept going back to Tyrael and his strange outfit. Knowing the Archangel, he never really cared about what he wore, and Lyndon could swear he had never seen the man without El'druin before (well, except during those first few days, when the sword was broken into three parts). But now with this well-kept robe and the obviously well-made leather coat, not to mention those boots, Tyrael looked like he was going to meet a king.

… Or maybe a woman.

Lyndon had to snicker at the thought. Yeah, right. Tyrael, the guy who once thought it was a good idea to eat every meal of the day in the morning so he wouldn't waste time later, would totally get a girl.

The scoundrel didn't even notice the passing of the time, until he was walking by a window on the second floor and he thought he heard the voice of Tyrael.

Great, I've managed to spend half the night awake, Lyndon rolled his eyes at his own foolishness.

By some inner prompting, he walked up to the window, taking a sip from the emptying ale bottle. He casually leaned out a bit, looking down at the paved road.

The ale decided to turn around and go up his nose, threatening to launch itself out of his mouth in a beautiful arch into the cold night air.

There was Tyrael, standing not far from the entrance of the mansion.

Holding the hands of a blonde-haired woman.

- Thank you so much for coming with me to this play! – she smiled earnestly. – Heavens know, the people needed this to lift their spirits.

- Thank you for inviting me! It was truly a great experience. I have never seen such an event before – Tyrael returned the gesture, and Lyndon could swear he heard his voice quiver a bit. – I… Would you like to come inside? I believe I have some wine in the pantry. We could talk about… well, anything really.

The woman laughed at this, and she actually hugged Tyrael who was positively growing redder by the second.

- Thank you, but I cannot stay – she said, pulling away and smiling apologetically. – You are very kind, but tomorrow I have much work to do, and I will need the rest. Maybe next time… when things are a bit calmer.

- O—of course, I understand – Tyrael hurried, taking her hands into his again. – But… Then please, allow me to walk you home. I would not want to leave you alone in the dead of the night. It—I would be very worried for you…

The woman laughed again, and began walking, holding onto the angel's hand. Together, they slowly disappeared into the night, clearly not rushing to get anywhere, their cheerful chatter dying away eventually.

Lyndon managed to free his respiratory tracts from the treacherous liquid without drawing attention to himself and now he was busy rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.

Tyrael had been on a date!

Was this a sign of the Apocalypse?! Fallen angels, absolutely clueless about mortal life, getting girlfriends? It had to be.

Oh, Lyndon would not let this one slide!

The notion of sleep was swung out the window, he prepared to confront Tyrael about this whole mess. It was his sacred duty to do so!

When Tyrael returned an hour or so later, he looked pretty relieved: a small smile tucked at his lips as he fumbled with the front door keys, and there was a certain lightness in his steps which was unheard of before. Turning around, however, he quickly came face to face with the widely grinning Lyndon, who awaited him leaning against the wall, a new bottle of alcohol in his hand.

- So when do we toast to your new girlfriend? – the scoundrel asked happily, holding up the bottle.

Tyrael promptly fled to his library at this and closed the door on himself.

oooOOOooo

- Tyrael, open up!

- No!

- Come on, you are being ridiculous.

- I don't care!

- Hey, I just wanted to congratulate you!

- You spied on me!

- No, I didn't! You were literally standing under my window, how should I have not seen you with her?!

- Leave me alone, Lyndon!

- What if I can help you, hm? I can give you advice on how to sweep the girl off her feet.

- No, thank you! I'm fully aware of your womanizer ways.

- I can be a true gentleman. Girls always love that. I know all the tricks!

-… But I don't want it! I don't want any of this!

- You don't want what? Why not?

- It's all wrong, alright?! I shouldn't be doing this!

Oh crap, Lyndon pursed his lips. Something was clearly amiss here.

- Look, Tyrael, I swear to all that is holy and sacred that I don't want to make fun of you! But I can see we clearly need to talk!

-…

- Come on, man, open up! Please? I can help!

A pause.

Then the lock on the door clicked and it slowly opened, revealing a quite troubled and not at all relieved Tyrael on the other side. His initial cheerfulness was nowhere to be seen now, and Lyndon had the feeling it wasn't really because he was caught with a girl.

- Yes, we are going to need this, don't we? – the scoundrel smiled awkwardly, holding up the bottle as he shuffled inside.

The library was clearly the largest room of the mansion. It may have been a ball room before, but now the Horadrim filled it with numerous bookcases, all on the verge of collapsing from codexes and books. There were a couple of chairs, armchairs and smaller-bigger tables sprinkled across the maze they have created. Tyrael insisted they sit down to the one farthest away from the entrance. Lyndon thought this was just unnecessary paranoia, but the fallen angel looked already stressed out enough, so he kept this opinion to himself.

- So… uhm… Congratulations! – Lyndon held his glass up for toast. – What's her name?

-… Sophia – mumbled Tyrael, eyes kept on his laced fingers, not even touching his cup.

- I think I recognize her, to be fair. Was she there at the enclave during the Reaper attack?

- Yes. She is a nurse. She treated me as well. It's her merit that my encounter with Malthael did not have worse consequences.

- Oh, nurses are a treasure, truly! – Lyndon agreed heartily. – They are so gentle, and soft and—

- Lyndon – Tyrael grumbled.

- Sorry. Force of habit, you see – the scoundrel chuckled awkwardly, before clearing his throat and putting on a more serious face. – So… what's the matter? Something's clearly eating away at you.

Tyrael chewed his lips. Definitely not a good sign.

- I just… I know I shouldn't be doing this – he admitted finally, lacing his fingers together tighter.

-… Why not? – Lyndon cocked his head to one side at this, clearly confused.

- Because I have other things to do, alright?! – Tyrael snapped, throwing himself back in his armchair in agitation. – I should be recruiting and training Horadrim! I should be working on that damned book! I should be preparing for when things go wrong again on this damned world! Yet, here I am, wasting my time with stupid things that have nothing to do with any of those goals! What is wrong with me?! Am I cursed? Am I under some spell? Did I lose my mind?! Explain this to me, Lyndon!

The scoundrel stared at the outburst. Then he sighed loudly and took a long swing from the glass. This would be difficult.

- I apologize – mumbled Tyrael, casting his golden gaze back to his hands.

- Well… I think I see the problem – Lyndon said, rubbing his nose ridge.

He tried to collect his thoughts. Never before had he had to explain such things to someone else. It was a given thing really, everyone knew the explanation to it, even if not "actively". But telling this to someone completely new to this world?

- So… Tyrael – the scoundrel began, struggling to find the right words. – There is nothing wrong with you, don't worry.

- Really? I do not feel that way – the fallen angel snorted, finally reaching for his cup and taking a sip from it.

- Look, I'm not going to pretend like I understand how you angels work up in the High Heavens, but it's clearly different than us humans down here – Lyndon shook his head. – Let me guess: angels always put duty first, right? Work, work, work, work until you have nothing to do, right?

- Yes. Ignoring one's duty in favor of self-gain is frowned upon greatly – Tyrael nodded.

- That's the problem, right there – Lyndon pointed out. – Tyrael, you are no longer an angel. And we mortals… well, we need to recharge ourselves from time to time.

The fallen angel glanced at his companion in confusion.

- Eventually everyone runs out of energy and motivation, no matter their tasks or dedication – the scoundrel went on, finally gaining some momentum. – It is natural. We need opportunities to get away from our duties, to experience something different and just let go of our worries for a while. This is not laziness, it is a chance to regain our vigor and determination, so when we return to the task at hand, we can be efficient at it again.

Tyrael didn't say a word, but he was clearly listening intently.

- Tell me: do you enjoy Sophia's company? Did you have fun tonight, whatever the heck you two were doing together?

-…

- Because you seemed pretty happy to me when you came home.

Tyrael finally surrendered:

- Yes. Yes, I do. She is just… so kind, as so full of life, despite everything she had lived through. I can't help but be happy around her as well.

- That is great! You clearly need it! So don't be afraid of it – Lyndon exclaimed happily. – And don't beat yourself up for having some fun and relaxing a bit. You just watch, the next day you will return to your duties with triple the energy!

- I hope you are right.

- I'd bet anything on it! How did you two get together, anyway?

- Well… when she treated me, we talked. A lot, I mean. And realized we have many common subjects – Tyrael wondered. – Sophie is interested in the world and what is happening, even though she does not have the opportunity to travel. She is well-read and picks up just about any book she can get her hands on. So we… kind of kept on seeing each other even after everything settled. She is dedicated, selfless and quite beautiful. My heart flutters whenever I look at her, and I have this weird buzzing feeling in me. Is that normal?

- Oh yes, yes it is – Lyndon nodded, smiling, not missing that little nickname Tyrael involuntarily used just now. – That is a really good sign. It means you are in love with her. And from what I've seen, she enjoys your company very much as well. Does she know you are a—?

- Yes, of course – the fallen angel waved dismissively. – She knew it from the day she began treating me. But as you know, angels ran amuck in the city those days anyway, so she wasn't even remotely surprised by this. She was curious, however.

- Ohohoho, this one sounds juicy!

- What's juicy about the general structure of the High Heavens? – Tyrael looked at Lyndon in confusion.

- Oh… Oh, nevermind then. I thought about… something else – the scoundrel quickly backpedaled.

- Her affinity for learning and discoveries is praise-worthy, I must say – Tyrael went on, clearly getting lost in thought. – But… I don't feel any secondary goals behind it. She doesn't want to get stronger, or gain more power. She is just interested. She wants to know how the world works, but doesn't want to affect it in any way. I find that… refreshing. It is good to know there are still people out there like her.

- Yes, the amount of power-hungry evil wizards, nobles, demons and angels have grown in number in our recent lives, haven't they? – Lyndon grumbled, thinking about Adria, Kulle, Malthael and all the other nutcases he had encountered in this last year.

- They sure have – Tyrael laughed a little at this. – I must say, my former life pales in comparison to the chaos of this new one. I would have never imagined any of it. Especially not this… predicament now.

- Come on, Tyrael, this is not a predicament. This is something amazing! – Lyndon scowled at him.

- If you say so…

- I mean it, Tyrael – Lyndon said, actually dead serious for once. – Really. I'm happy for you that you've managed to find someone like her. Do not close yourself off from this chance, just because it brings something new into your life. Go for it!

- I… Thank you, Lyndon – Tyrael blinked. – That was surprisingly honest from you.

- Hey, I can be honest if I want to be! – the scoundrel sniffled, offended.

- Sure – the fallen angel smirked, before something occurred to him. – Wait. You wanted to ask my advice on something?

Lyndon had to blink several times before he finally remembered why he had come here in the first place.

- Oh right! – he exclaimed, setting down his glass onto the table. – So how exactly does one take care of a baby angel?

The look on Tyrael's face made Lyndon wish he could have recorded it somehow for future generations.

oooOOOooo

Quiet saw strange dreams.

He lied on his back on the ground and couldn't see much outside of the grey sky above him, but he somehow felt everything around him. He felt the aura of death that not long ago choked these lands, the many lives, both old and young, lost pointlessly. He felt the monsters that roamed here not long ago, their very steps leaving scars on the ground. Most of them had been of this world but twisted into beast-like bodies and minds. They were turned against their own kin. And some were…

Quiet felt anger burning in him.

Spawns of Anu. They dared raise a hand against his world! They came and slaughtered all, even those who couldn't fight! How dare they?! How dare they call themselves different from the Spawns of Tathamet, when they commit the same atrocities against all of Creation?! He reached out with his powers, touching, feeling out the damage dealt to his beloved world. With each scar found his rage grew.

The Firstborn… he had a hand in this, Quiet knew. That accursed Spawn of Anu had always meddled into his life. Where was he?! He would pay for all this, he would—

Quiet blinked and the grey sky melted away. Where did this come from, this anger, this "Firstborn" and "Spawn of Anu" nonsense? What was a tathamet, even? He shook his head in confusion, the strange rage quickly subsiding in him. Sitting up, he finally looked around and found himself in a strange, greyscaled, large court room. Quiet got the distinct feeling that this place should have been gold, not greyish brown.

In front of him, stood a huge figure, much bigger than Leendonn. His size reminded Quiet of Zaboul and that in return made him nervous. The being was in shiny armor with intricate patterns and had absolutely huge wings of blue light tendrils that constantly waved around. He held a large majestic sword with a light blue source of light in its center.

- You should be still down there – the figure finally said.

He had no face, like Quiet, only a white hood with a bottomless darkness. Yet the small angel immediately recognized his voice from past dreams.

- Why are you up here? – the figure looked at Quiet, and was almost certainly frowning. – Nobody said you could leave.

- I did no leeeeve – Quiet blinked up at the large man, marveling at his wings. He hoped one day his own wings would be this big. – I'm with Leendonn!

- You will only bring trouble – the hooded angel growled. – You have always done so.

- But I want to be good – Quiet insisted, getting angry at the accusation. – Leendonn said he will teach me to be good!

- You cannot be "good"! – the figure boomed at him. – You are incapable of doing things right!

- You are wrong! – Quiet shouted at the large man, his little wings perking up and trying to look big. – I will be good! I will!

The hooded angel leaned forward, towering over Quiet.

- That is a bold claim for a being like you – he growled angrily. – Ina—

- Quiet!

The little angel turned his head around at the familiar call. The large figure froze over him completely.

- Leendonn! – Quiet shouted back, greatly relieved.

Thank goodness! This dream was getting really weird.

It even got weirder when he began to fly wildly in one direction, completely against his will.

oooOOOooo

- You have a what?!

- Tyrael, I can't answer you differently for the fifth time. I have a baby angel on me, okay?!

Getting the shell-shocked fallen angel to actually get up from the chair and follow Lyndon to their bedroom was a borderline miracle at this point.

- There is no such thing as a "baby" angel, Lyndon! Young fetchlings that need to grow a bit, yes, but not babies!

- Well then, I shall happily await your explanation for this – Lyndon called over his shoulder, carefully stepping into their bedroom.

On the bed, Quiet turned himself into a bundle of sleeping peace and blanket, so tight that literally only the top of his head was visible. The scoundrel gently lifted him up from the bed and turned to Tyrael, slowly pulling aside the cover to reveal the white hair, the bottomless "face" and the little gold-ruby tiara on the forehead. Tyrael's expression grew even more hilarious. He stared at the peacefully sleeping Quiet for a good five minutes without moving.

- And he even has wings – Lyndon finally offered. – He's definitely an angel. Why is he so small then?

-… Where did you get him? – Tyrael mumbled, not turning his eyes away from the little bundle.

He was still in shock, but now it almost felt like it was for a different reason. Lyndon slightly frowned in confusion at this.

- That's a funny story, Tyrael – the scoundrel said slowly. – I found him in the Realm of Hatred when Johanna dragged us down there to find Mephisto and kill him again.

- Realm of…?

- Yeah, capital of the Burning Hells, all that lovely stuff – Lyndon nodded, gently settling Quiet back down onto the bed. – There was this huge room, absolutely massive, filled with—

- Mirrors.

-… How did you know? – now it was Lyndon's turn to stare in disbelief.

Tyrael took a sharp breath, still staring at the little angel:

- Continue.

-… Oookay? So he was chained down, with hooks that stretched out his skin. It was gruesome, really. Oh and he was big, not Imperius-big but still big – Lyndon went on uncertainly. – He was in a pretty miserable shape so I tried to calm him down, assuring him that help was on the way. And… here's the weird part… I touched him and he just… blew up.

- Blew up?!

- Into a million sparks that gathered together into some small light dumpling thing on my lap that was solid enough to grab. So I hid him in my pouch and got him out of there. That's the short version, really.

Tyrael took another sharp breath. Was something wrong with him?

- What did he say was his name?

- Nothing – Lyndon shrugged. – In that mirror hall, he was in no condition to talk. Then when he got this small body, which I still have no idea how happened exactly, he couldn't recall it and started crying instead. So I named him Quiet.

Tyrael began massaging his templates, staring before himself in terror.

- Oh no – he mumbled, voice rising slowly. – No no no no no…

- What's wrong, Tyrael? – Lyndon looked at him worryingly. – Do you know him or something? I mean he is an angel, so maybe—

- Lyndon, you have no idea what you have just done! – the fallen angel glared at him in desperate anger.

- Wha—what?!

- This is Inarius! Traitor to the High Heavens, Creator of Sanctuary, The Eraser of your world!


Holy shit, is Tyrael actually having a LIFE there?! Really?!

You know... I have seen many things in the Diablo fandom. Some I wish I could forget. BUT! I personally have never really come around anything that talked about or showed Tyrael getting a normal girlfriend. I've read stuff where he gets together with the Nephalem hero, sure, but somehow, a girl (or boy, whatever rocks your boat man, I don't care) from the ordinary folk has never come up. Which I find... weird, to be honest. I feel like a simple human with a simple life would be the BEST help for poor Tyrael to finally calm down, settle down, and find his place in the world.

Dunno, it's just me.

Also, how many chapters did it take for Lyndon to finally, FINALLY learn Quiet's real name? 18? Damn, dude, you need to read more books! And stick to a fucking section that you have already started! It's not that hard.

Yeah, I know, Inarius wasn't exactly an "Eraser of Worlds" back in the good old days, but you've gotta admit, "Wanna-be Eraser" just sounds lackluster, honestly... So I had to ditch that.

Let the shit hit the fan!

Again!

Keep being awesome, cupcakes! ^^