Chapter 19

Quiet woke with a start and began crying almost immediately.

Lyndon couldn't really blame him, after all the scoundrel was currently flinging him wildly around, holding him high up in the air, far away from Tyrael who decided to go nuts on this fine evening.

- Tyrael, what the hell are you talking about? – Lyndon shouted over the wailing.

- He's dangerous! He's a madman! He must be dealt with now, before he—!

- Fuck off, man! You are not touching him!

- Lyndon, you have no idea what he is capable of! I saw it! I know him, damn it!

- Okay, I admit that the world-warping powers are a bit weird, that's true but—

- World-warping powers?! – Tyrael echoed almost hysterically, grabbing his bald head in terror.

Lyndon cursed himself for bringing up that topic right in this chaotic moment.

- Are you out of your mind?! – the fallen angel's voice was definitely higher-pitched at this point, promptly spurring Quiet into an even louder crying. – You saw him change the world around you in an impossible way, and you were okay with that?!

- Aren't you angels supposed to be strong in magic?! How the hell should I know that this thing is not common among your ranks?!

- Did you see anyone, anyone at all using such powers at the Battle of the Silver City?!

- Hell no, but we didn't exactly tour around the whole damn thing, if you recall. We were kind of in a hurry to reach that damned Arch before it got turned into a heap of useless glass!

- Angels don't have such powers, not even the Angiris Council! Lyndon, you are literally holding a world-destroying time-bomb—

- What the hell, Tyrael?! This is a kid! A toddler, basically! He couldn't even talk until I taught him. What is your—

- Leeeeeeendonnnn! – Quiet wailed, helplessly flailing in the scoundrel's hands, absolutely disoriented.

- SHUT UP, INARIUS! – Tyrael yelled, actually yelled at the small angel.

Immediately something snapped in Lyndon. He crushed Quiet against his chest in a protective way, then kicked Tyrael in the stomach, sending him tumbling backwards slightly. It was meant as more of a warning than an actual attack.

- You will not talk to him this way, Tyrael – Lyndon boomed in a strong voice, blazing green eyes kept on the fallen angel, while one hand gently patted the sniffling Quiet's head. – Do you understand me?! You have no idea of the dangers we went through, of all the shit I had to face in order to keep him safe up to this point! You will not lay a finger on him, or so help me God…

Tyrael stared at him, and Lyndon allowed the green fire to die out in his eyes.

- What has happened to you? – breathed the fallen angel.

- Many, many things – the scoundrel frowned at him. – We came here exactly because I was told you could help us. I intend to tell everything, but only if you listen. Are we clear?!

Tyrael took a deep, shaky breath, glaring daggers at the two of them.

- We are so going to die because of you, Lyndon – he finally said. – But whatever! Talk. This ought to be… interesting

oooOOOooo

Inarius

Quiet clinged to Leendonn for dear life, mind still reeling from the sudden and rude awakening, the shouting match of the grown-ups, and now… this name. It was his name. He recognized it now that he heard it. Yet…

Inarius

He tried to utter it in his native language, but only a weak mewl came out, causing Leendonn to reassuringly pat his head as they walked after the angry bald man Teeriel. Yet another name Quiet felt like he needed to pay more attention to, only it was suddenly forced into the background by this new one.

Inarius

It didn't feel right. Quiet had vowed to find his true name, but this… this wasn't it. It should have been it, though! The little angel silently wept in misery, face buried in Leendonn's shirt. It was so close! So damn close! But he was not Inarius! It didn't sound right. It told him nothing. Who was he then?!

Nobody

Quiet gulped down his anger. No, he would not settle for that. He can and will find his own name. In time.

In time.

oooOOOooo

Angry humming came from Quiet, and Lyndon gently shushed him, as they followed Tyrael back into the library, hauling Cain's Codex along. The scoundrel couldn't really blame the child for being angry, that had to be one hell of an unpleasant awakening back there. Only now he couldn't allow the little angel to blow up the entire house in his grumpiness. They had been lucky enough that Quiet didn't automatically summon his weird powers while being jolted out of sleep.

That would have thrown a wrench into the plan of "calming Tyrael down".

Seriously, what was the guy's problem, anyway?! This world had seen civil wars, conquests, rises and falls of empires. It had been invaded by the Prime Evils… scratch that, by all the Evils, almost all at once. Hell, this was the place where the single Prime Evil was born, ultimately…

Adria had not suffered enough for that.

Still, after all that, after Malthael's reign of terror, Tyrael freaks out over a baby angel who can barely talk, calling him the Eraser of Sanctuary.

Sanctuary still stood, what the hell had gotten into the fallen angel?!

Back in the library, Lyndon placed the codex onto a table.

- Here you go – he grumbled, throwing himself down onto one of the chairs. – Guess it will help you more than it would help me, huh?

- I cannot believe you have had the answer right in front of you this whole time and you didn't bother to read it! – Tyrael retorted angrily, opening the book and furiously turning through the pages like a madman.

- Try going through the shit we have done and read in the meantime, then come and lecture me! – Lyndon spat.

He hated lectures. He really did.

Honestly, just half an hour ago, they had hit such a friendly and amiable tone with each other, something the scoundrel would have never thought was possible between him and the awkwardly rigid mortal angel. It was frustrating to see that sudden common ground evaporate. Even more frustrating that he couldn't even comprehend the reason behind it.

- Are you even going to listen what I have to tell, or are you just going to keep throwing a hissy fit over there until the sun comes up?! – Lyndon grumbled.

- Not before enlightening you about the very thing you are carrying around! – Tyrael glared at him, still looking through the book.

- Quiet is not a thing – the scoundrel hissed, eyes flashing up again. – He's an angel! Aren't you all related?! How can you talk about a brother of yours in this tone?!

For a second, Tyrael actually stopped in his mad thumbing through the codex and he stared before himself with a blank expression. That quickly melted away however, and the man frowned down at the book.

- Not every angel deserves the title "brother" – he finally said.

- Oh, you mean Imperius and Malthael, right?!

- I meant Izual, actually.

- That guy was a demon, he doesn't count.

- He had been an angel.

- Quiet still is one!

- You have no idea about him – Tyrael spat, reading something with disdain. – I cannot believe it's not in here! Damnit, Cain!

He angrily closed the book with a thud, and glared at Lyndon.

- Inarius had gone mad from power during his time here – he said. – He bound himself to the Worldstone and played god. He made sure that the Nephalem became weaker with each generation. Then a group of humans, led by Uldyssian, rebelled against his influence. Uldyssian was winning against him, and Inarius in his mad despair wanted to completely destroy Sanctuary, raze everything and begin anew.

- Then you and the Hells came, with the exact same goal – Lyndon retorted softly, eyes narrowing.

Tyrael fell silent for a second.

- Zoltun Kulle was an annoying baggage, but an informative one – Lyndon shrugged nonchalantly, cuddling Quiet closer who kept his face hidden in his shirt. – He told us how literally everyone wanted this world dead. But then Uldyssian banished all of you, and sacrificed himself to save Sanctuary.

- That act changed our hearts in the Angiris Council – Tyrael nodded uneasily.

- Three out of five.

- Enough to save your world.

- And then? What happened? How did this Inarius end up in the Realm of Hatred?

-… He was given to Mephisto, as a bargain chip – Tyrael said slowly. – In return he agreed to keep himself and his brothers out of Sanctuary.

- Yeah, that happened – Lyndon snorted.

- Yes. That is why later I had to step in and create the Horadrim to save this world. Again.

A moment of silence came again, broken by Lyndon:

- You are not telling me everything, are you? – he narrowed his eyes slightly.

- I told you everything important – Tyrael dismissed the accusation. – You have literally let out this dangerous madman from his prison and let him loose upon this world!

Lyndon was about to retort but he felt a slight tug on his shirt.

- Leendonn? – Quiet asked timidly, looking up at him with large red eyes. – I'm tired…

- You want to go back to sleep, firefly?

- Yes… Why are you so loud?

- It's nothing, Quiet, we are just having a… discussion – Lyndon glanced up at Tyrael. – If I take you back to the room, can you go back to sleep on your own?

- I'm skerrd.

- It's okay, firefly, there is nothing wrong.

- Bald man skerry.

- He sure is – Lyndon let go of a half-smile, smirking up at the frowning fallen angel.

He got up from his chair, cuddling the small child close.

- Come on, Quiet. You will be asleep in no time.

Lyndon spared one last glance at Tyrael, on his way out of the library.

- "Dangerous madman", huh? – he hissed.

oooOOOooo

- Out of all the people, I thought that the scoundrel would know not to trust anyone at first glance! – Tyrael snorted from across the table, arms crossed.

Upon returning from putting Quiet to sleep, Lyndon and the fallen angel resumed their argument.

- First glance?! I have been carrying him around for weeks now! If you'd just let me tell what the hell happened!

- Oh, don't worry, I want to hear how exactly you have managed to let that lunatic back in here.

- For fuck's sake, Tyrael, Quiet is a child! Okay?! A baby, basically. I had to teach him everything, even how to dress up! – Lyndon almost shouted, slamming the table with his fists.

Tyrael just snorted again, rolling his eyes and making a dismissive gesture with his hand.

- Talk then – he finally said, relinquishing himself to his "Archangel of Justice" roots.

So Lyndon did just that, albeit grudgingly. He recounted all the crazy twists they had had to live through up to this point: Johanna's apparent madness, the matter-altering powers of Quiet, the seven Jade figures who helped them out, however briefly, and the terrible state of Kingsport, topped off by the Lord of Wrath, Zaboul. Tyrael was honestly surprised that the monster made it to Sanctuary, and did not take this news well, even if the damned thing had been killed. However, if the fallen angel could play this game, so could Lyndon. He left out certain moments, his growing and absolutely weird powers, his showdown with Rea (he still had nightmares of it), the friendly Treasure Goblin Luther, and Quiet's brief but murderous rampage at that noble's estate.

Had he told that last bit, he knew Tyrael would want to behead Quiet right where he stood, out of "caution".

By the time all this was done, the sun had come up and already completed a good chunk of its journey. Tyrael worryingly brooded on his chair, mulling over Lyndon's words.

- I do not like this – he finally said, his former anger finally evaporating.

- Yeah, no shit. I'd be surprised if you did…

- Lesser Lords of Hell on Sanctuary, without our knowledge? The Nephalem Hero losing her focus? What is going on?

- You are the Heaven-sent scholar, shouldn't you know? – Lyndon tiredly rubbed his eyes, feeling the sleepless night's effects already.

- I only knew about the Prophecy of the End days, and Belial's and Azmodan's plans – Tyrael shook his head. – Now that we overcame that… at least partially, I do not know what to expect anymore.

- Wait… partially? – Lyndon's eyes snapped open, glaring at the angel. – What do you mean "partially"?!

- Two lines are yet to be fulfilled from the prophecy – Tyrael blinked at him. – "Valor shall turn to Wrath" and "As Fate lies shattered forever."

-… You mean Imperius and Itherael.

- Considering how all the other lines were about the Angiris Council as well, yes, that is more than likely.

-… Damnit! – Lyndon cried out, throwing himself backwards and almost falling over with the chair. – I thought we were done with that shitstorm! What does it take to finally be over and done with the End Days, seriously?!

- I don't know – Tyrael sighed. – Although I'm not sure if we interpret those lines correctly.

- Is there another way to them?!

- Why, yes, actually. Except for these two apparently, everything else happened just in the order as they were written down. What if, these two also happened as well, when they were supposed to?

- You didn't tell me Itherael fell apart.

- Because he didn't. I meant it in a different way – Tyrael massaged his forehead. – Think about it. Remember, how enraged Imperius had been during the Battle of the Silver City.

- As much as I hate the guy, I cannot really blame him for that.

- But he was also impossible to reason with and calm down. Just like Wrath.

- You mean, Imperius might have been "Wrath" during that battle?

- Yes.

- And what of Itherael? He seemed fine, last time I saw him.

- Itherael had foreseen the end of the Eternal Conflict, closing with the ultimate defeat of the Angelic Host. He confided this in me, once we were done with that harrowing mess – Tyrael explained. – It had been a certainty, he told me. But now that it had been averted…

- Fate was actually "shattered", as in altered completely – Lyndon finished, catching on.

- Exactly. So… it could be that the Prophecy was completely fulfilled. I cannot say for sure – Tyrael shrugged.

- But… all the other lines turned out to be taken quite literally – the scoundrel frowned. – Why are these two so different? Why is the Fate part out of chronological order, if everything else follows the list?

- Those are what give me a burning sense of doubt – the angel sighed. – It is partially the reason why I wish to revive the Horadrim. Maybe they will mean the difference between life and death in the future. Just like they did in the past.

Lyndon was about to say something, when…

- Leendonn?

Both men turned towards the door of the library in unison. There stood Quiet, uncertainly holding up a tray that was filled with fruits and a few slices of bread. It was hard to tell where he had gotten that food, possibly conjured it up himself. He shuffled awkwardly up to the table and placed the tray on its surface, tippy-toeing.

- Hungry? – he asked in a low voice.

- Thank you, Quiet – Lyndon smiled earnestly at the child, quickly kissing him on the head and taking a large apple from the plate. – It's just the breakfast we needed.

Tyrael shot him a warning look, no doubt trying to dissuade him from eating the food. Lyndon replied with a defiant and annoyed glare, and he took a large bite out of the apple.

Nothing. Of course, the scoundrel knew that well.

- Did you sleep well, firefly? – he asked, swallowing the fruit and pulling up Quiet onto his lap.

-… No.

- Don't worry, tonight will be much better, I promise.

Lyndon seemingly accidentally pushed the tray towards Tyrael with his elbow, and only his smoldering glance betrayed his intentions. The fallen angel frowned at him, but eventually caved in and uncertainly took a pear and a loaf of bread. After realizing he would not die from the first bite, he grudgingly scarfed it down, finally heeding the call of his empty stomach.

- What did I tell you on the journey, how to introduce yourself? – Lyndon glanced down at his charge, gently nudging him.

-… Hello. I'm Quiet – mumbled the little angel, barely audibly.

- Stop playing games. You are Inarius – Tyrael stated, annoyed.

- No – it was a soft reply, but surprisingly firm. Quiet's red eyes flashed up for a second. – I am no—not.

- This lovely gentleman here is Tyrael – Lyndon quickly interrupted, fighting the urge to fling the tray and all of its content into the man's face for that. – He is that angel who has no wings. You know, the one I told you about. As you can see, he is very rude and is being an ass currently. Don't try to be like him.

- Lyndon – Tyrael growled slightly.

- And he doesn't have a sense of humor, he cannot laugh. See? That is also a bad thing.

Quiet looked at Tyrael for long, before stating:

- You are like Im—Ipe—Imperiuss. Angry all the time.

The fallen angel's face made Lyndon wish yet again for that recording device.


Can you guys feel the brotherly love? It brings a tear to my eye...

So sorry guys, for taking so long with this one! I've been a bit overwhelmed with the Uni work, and other stuff, and it's still not fully over, so I'm not sure how fast I can write this story. Also, for some reason, it was a nightmare to pin this very simple chapter down. Guess I'm not the best at arguments... like, anywhere, really.

Anyway, thank you for being so patient with me. ^^ I really appreciate you cupcakes, and feel free to call me out on a shitty writing, if I fuck up a chapter in some way. I can't promise that I will rewrite it (maybe) but I WILL pay more attention to the mistake(s) in the next installment, for sure!

Keep being awesome!

Smaller trivia: the part where Tyrael shouts that "it's not in here", is actually true. He is referring to Inarius' escalating madness and megalomania that was present throughout the Sin War trilogy. I based this fanfic's Book of Cain on the ACTUAL Book of Cain, published by Blizzard. In that book, it is only stated that when Inarius lost against Uldyssian, he realized the devastating potential of the Nephalem he had created, and as a result began to panic. There was not even a peep about him being mad.