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Chapter 48
- How did you do it? – Tyrael asked in bewilderment.
Quiet was sleeping on the bed in complete peace. No whimpering, no struggling, not a single twitch that would have betrayed he was having a bad dream. Adenah only smiled wryly as she herded him out of the room. She made sure she had closed the door properly before turning back to him.
- Objects aren't the only cargo we smuggle, Tyrael. The towns often asked us to get their women and children out when they were at war. I have had many opportunities to learn how to handle kids… unfortunately.
Tyrael nodded slightly. Humanity's habit of waging wars against itself, it seemed, did not only bother him. A bit strange to share an opinion with a demoness, he silently mused. Despite his surprisingly neutral conversation with Ashava a few hours ago, the demoness's last (and painfully valid) question knocked Tyrael out of his inner balance, which in turn helped him greatly remembering just what it had been like to actually face her on the battlefield.
And nearly getting cut in two, dosed in acid, trampled, chewed up, or all of those things simultaneously.
Tyrael silently gulped.
- Now… care to tell me exactly what you and the Boss are doing out here? – Adenah plopped down by her table with a tired sigh, her cheerfulness spent. – Boss told me he was looking for a "grassy place with a white building" and that you knew the way there.
Tyrael sat down as well, far too mindful of the soft creaking of the sleeping Izba all around him. He tried not to think about being actually in a demon's belly, instead tried to quickly decide how much to tell the smuggler before him. He couldn't really explain his sudden hyper-sensitivity to such things, when he knew without Adenah and Izba they may have not won against Perendi…
- Tyrael? – Adenah raised an eyebrow.
- Apologies. There is… a lot on my mind lately – the mortal angel quickly shook himself, banishing his dark thoughts.
He pushed past his prejudice with some difficulty.
- Quiet has… very few memories from his past life as Inarius. One of them is the Cathedral of Light. He adamantly wishes to go to the ruins of that place, although for what, I am still not sure.
- The Cathedral of Light?
- What is this "Purge" you have mentioned, exactly? When did it happen?
- A century after Sanctuary's creation – Adenah grimaced at the memory. – The first few nephalem was born already, and Boss was very concerned about their potential. I can't say I blamed him, we were on his side with Izba on this one. He asked for time to think and disappeared into one of his many hidey-holes. That treacherous bitch Lilith however immediately jumped to the conclusion that he wanted the "children" dead. So she, by some truly genius logic, slaughtered us all. Much stronger angels and demons fell to her, me and Izba stood no chance. Took us quite a while to reform after that.
- How long?
- We have no idea. But by the time we came back, Inarius was long gone and nobody even remembered his name. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?
Tyrael took a deep breath. He wanted to lie. He wanted to lie so badly right now.
- The Inarius you knew… well, as much as I know, this Purge had affected him greatly as well – he answered slowly. – He had banished Lilith but that meant he was left completely alone, and Sanctuary changed around him far too quickly. I am not sure exactly what happened after that, but by the time the Angelic Host discovered Sanctuary, Inarius… Inarius was gone. In spirit, I mean.
Adenah took in a sharp breath, her eyes changed to canine-like but she remained silent and unmoving. Tyrael took that as a sign to go on.
- He had been fighting a religious war against the Prime Evils who hid behind their own churches to sway the human hearts. Inarius wanted to counter it, but his methods weren't any better. He had gone mad… believed himself to be a god, demanded blind faith and unquestioning loyalty. I had been the one to scout this new world out, I had seen him debating destroying Sanctuary altogether and starting anew. When a group of revolting humans with awakened Nephalem powers had proven to be too much for him to handle, he began making deals with Diablo himself. Thankfully, that did not work. When he was finally brought down and dragged before us… there was nothing left of him. We… I… had given him to Mephisto, in exchange for Sanctuary's safety. That did not last long but it bought this world a bit of time.
Tyrael almost choked on the last three sentences. Again, Inarius' always soft voice came back to haunt him:
"I—missed you"
Anu help him, maybe Lyndon had been right back in Westmarch.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?! You gave your brother to one of the most sadistic pieces of shit this Creation has ever seen! And when the fucker broke his word and attacked Sanctuary anyway, you did not even bother to rescue Inarius from his clutches?!"
The formerly lawless, honorless scoundrel had been lecturing the Archangel of Justice, and rightfully so, on doing the right thing. Tyrael did not know whether he should cry or laugh in misery, or just straight up try and sink into the floor. Again.
He briefly wondered what he would need to give up to achieve that this time.
It took him moments to realize he was still alive. Across from him, Adenah reverted into her dog-headed demon form and her claws sank into the table's surface in her surpassed rage, but she was slowly changing into human again, with some no doubt titanic willpower.
- If any other—any other bastard told me all this, I would call bullshit and sell his parts to cults for blood magic – she said in a carefully controlled voice. – But fucking hell… Archangel of Justice. Ya can't get a more reliable source than that, huh?
- I am sorry you had to learn all that this way – Tyrael softly said.
- So Inarius had been in Mephisto's clutches for thousands of years.
- Yes.
- And not a single one of you in that posh-ass golden bird cage of yours thought about rescuing him after the pact was violated.
- No, we didn't. He had been branded a traitor, and to this day, he remains a traitor.
Adenah's halfway transformation came undone in an instant and she muttered a curse under her big nose. She leaned forward slightly, then backward on her chair.
-… We originally lived in the Realm of Lies – she suddenly spoke up, breaking the heavy silence. – Part of the reason why we are such good smugglers and shapeshifters. Deceiving others had been second nature. But ya know… we got tired of it eventually, we felt empty. When Boss came to offer peace, he told us of his dream, but also that it may all be for nothing. That we could all very easily die branded as traitors, or far worse. He asked that only those listen to him who were willing to take the risk. I and Izba heard true sincerity for the first goddamn time during that speech, and we have realized that is what had been missing from our lives. So we cherish honesty, even when it doesn't say what we want to hear.
Izba creaked around them in agreement.
- So I will return the favor, Justice. I absolutely loath the fact that Boss is now being escorted by the same person who sold him out in the first place – Adenah went on, eyes narrowing slightly. – Does he remember you at all?
- No – Tyrael shook his head. – He seems to recall very little, if anything at all. He doesn't share what he knows with me. But perhaps he wishes to return to the Cathedral of Light in order to remember. I know not.
- Wherever in the Hells that may be…
- Southern part of Kehjistan. It was probably long since swallowed up by the jungle.
Izba hissed at the world "Kehjistan".
- Bad place, that is – Adenah frowned as well. – The Angel of Death did something there. Something far worse than anywhere else. We heard rumors of people being torn in half by an invisible force.
-… That was the Black Soulstone – Tyrael closed his eyes in grief. – Malthael had used it to tear out the demonic essence from human souls. He had deployed it in the most populated area. Caldeum stood no chance.
After Malthael's death, Tyrael had been frantically trying to gather as much information as possible from the world, to hear which places survived and which didn't. He sent out his Horadrim, he himself walked the countryside. Mikulov had been the one to come back with the news that Caldeum was dead. The Monk looked positively shaken, in his own subtle way.
- The country stood no chance. Kehjistan is gone now, it fractured. Some surviving scum mages carved out their own fiefdoms, everyone is fighting each other for resources – Adenah grumbled. – And you want to take the Boss smack-dam in the middle of that shitstorm to look at some pretty ruins?!
- He wants to go, I am here to guide and protect him – Tyrael answered firmly, golden eyes flashing up. – If we are on the subject of honesty, then let us not accuse each other of actions we did not do.
- Yes, but did you actually tell him what is out there overseas—?!
- It sounds skerry.
Both Tyrael and Adenah froze up at this, they snapped their heads in unison towards the bedroom door. Quiet stood on the doorstep, blanket twisted around him as usual, one small hand rubbing his eyes slowly.
- It is skerry. But I must go. It is important – he continued after a pause.
- Boss… it's not worth it. Trust me, the things I have heard from my sources… – Adenah grimaced, trailing off.
Quiet awkwardly shuffled in one spot, looking down at his feet.
- Leendonn once told me the world is a bad place many times, when things we don't want happen anyway – he said softly. – And when a bad thing happens, we have to be clever and quick to get through that.
- I like this "Leendonn" character. Sounds like a down-to-earth kind of guy – Adenah glanced at Tyrael.
- And you also told me in that story that sometimes we must do dangerous things to get what we want – Quiet nodded in her direction, which prompted Tyrael to shoot a murderous glare at the demoness.
- Quiet, all we need to do here is to avoid going there – the mortal angel tried, knowing fully well just how futile his efforts were.
Right on cue, Quiet glanced up at him with a smoldering gaze.
- Then you don't go – he said sharply. – You go back to Soffia. But I will go to the grassy place!
- Forget it – Tyrael grumbled.
He did not really have a choice here. Either Lyndon or all the gods of Sanctuary would skin him alive if anything happened to Quiet. And, curse him for even thinking it, it no longer sat right with Tyrael to simply abandon the little angel… and Inarius. Not again.
Quiet turned to Adenah, slightly tilting his head to the side.
- I dreamt about you – he said matter-of-factly.
- You did? – the demoness looked confused.
- Yes. I was bigger than you. We talked. You said I was very brave and that you thought it was a good idea, and I said thank you for listening. You had the same ugly shape like now, but you didn't look skerry. You are not skerry anymore.
Despite everything that has happened up to this point, the utterly stunned look on that canine head was hilarious to watch, even as it morphed into a stupid grin.
- Why, thank you, Boss! So you remembered finally? – Adenah asked hopefully.
- A little. I dunno what we talked about – Quiet frowned. – Izba was much, much uglier, too.
Around them, the walls rhythmically creaked, which was Izba's version of a chuckle.
- Aesthetic is not a strength of the Burning Hells, true – Adenah grinned as well, but she quickly lost her mirth and asked – Can we truly not convince you not to go there, Boss? It is very dangerous.
- I need to go – Quiet shook his head adamantly, to which Tyrael sighed in defeat.
- Then, at the very least, we will escort you two for as long as we can. We might make it through the Tamoe Mountains, but the Twin Seas we cannot cross… not on human vessels, anyway – the smuggler massaged her neck in her worry.
- And Ashava? – Quiet asked.
- I don't know. We should talk to her tomorrow morning. She will probably want to go back to sleep as soon as possible.
- The attention she garners may not be to our advantage down the line – Tyrael mused aloud.
Quiet looked crestfallen but didn't argue. Instead he retreated into his bedroom without a word.
- We should hit the bed as well, Tyrael – Adenah stretched her arms. – Today was long as all Hell, eh?
The mortal angel could only offer a tired and faint smile at this.
oooOOOooo
The Courts of Justice are usually ruled by regal and honorable silence. It was a place of heavy decisions, debates over fates, grim sentences for the corrupted, or salvation for the righteous.
What it most definitely wasn't, was a place for shouting matches.
- Let me go, you—!
- Hold your tongue, Inarius!
- I can walk on my own, damnit!
Tyrael whirled around, finally letting go of his brother's wrist, once they were safely inside the Courts.
- How can you be such a vacuous child after three hundred years?! – he boomed, wings spread far and wide, waving in agitation, his usual monotone nowhere to be heard.
- For what?! That I wanted to propose a peace treaty? – Inarius answered in equal volume, yellow wings spread just as wide.
The Courts were not the place to carry out executions (Fate took care of that), but damn it all to the Hells, if Tyrael wasn't currently thinking about strangling his own little brother right there and then.
- Peace can never be an option with the Burning Hells! How many times do I have to tell you this?! They know nothing but destruction and corruption! They will never stop until either all of us or all of them are dead!
- And what about us, brother?! – Inarius hissed venomously. – We know nothing else but war! I cannot ask a Bard to sing something about everyday life that does not involve heroes or battles! Fate and Wisdom are focused on finding new ways to fight! The last three buildings we have built were weapon factories!
- There will come a day when we once again will prosper in peace. We know how to. Once this conflict is over – Tyrael waved the accusations away, his anger quickly receding.
There was no need to get overly emotional over such a foolish debate. Inarius was very temperamental, he would get over this soon enough.
- It has been going on for millennia even before my birth, Tyrael! – Inarius argued. – This is an eternal conflict, not some passing rivalry.
- Anu's light is with us. We shall triumph over the Hells just as he had triumphed over Tathamet.
- They had killed each other, brother. That is our fate too if we do not look for another path! – Inarius shook with surpassed rage, wings flickering and fluttering in a blinding chaos.
- As long as we control the Worldstone, we shall be indomitable – Tyrael retorted, his ire rising again.
Why was Inarius so stubborn?! The Pandemonium Fortress stood tall and proud, the Worldstone hummed its melody safely within its depths. The angels had the high ground currently, and it would remain so.
- And what do we do with the Stone, exactly, huh?! We force it to create new battlegrounds which we then just trample to dust and add to the wastelands of Pandemonium! – Inarius spat. – Admit it Tyrael, we are the exact same as the de—
Tyrael surged forward, grabbing Inarius by the collar and pulling him close.
- Silence, child! – he hissed in a low urgent tone. – What you are saying is treason!
- Speaking the truth is considered treachery now?! – Inarius returned the murderous stare.
- You have no idea how many times was I forced to bend the rules to keep you out of trouble, ungrateful brat! I had gone against my own nature time and time again, just so you wouldn't end up in the Fist many times over by your foolish actions. And now you are openly committing treason within the Courts—
Inarius tore himself out of his fingers and drifted back, wings quivering with pain.
- This is your justice, eh? Clinging to old ways and condemning those who would wish for a different life – he said in a broken voice.
- The demons do not allow a different life. Those who tried, died a horrible death, or worse! – Tyrael's wings bristled from the accusation. – Once we are rid of them, a new Golden Age will come. I promise you that.
- Take back your empty promise. I don't need it – Inarius turned around and flew out of the Courts, probably to go and sulk in one of his hiding places.
Tyrael sighed deeply and massaged the base of his wings, regaining his calmness quickly. Inarius could knock him out so easily from his balance with these foolish… dreams? Delusions? … of his. Even after three hundred years, countless battles and near-death experiences, his… brother, he supposed, was still very much acting like a noteling. In fact, his ideas seemed to become more and more ridiculous as time passed. Peace with those horrible monsters with no honor or morals? Bah, ridiculous! Once again, Tyrael couldn't help but ponder why the Arch had decided to create Inarius as his rhythm-brother. The Archangel of Justice was meant to be impartial, distant, treating everyone the same. enforcing the law fairly. This had to be a mistake, surely… but the Arch did not create mistakes.
- He is loud.
Tyrael turned around at this. In the farthest corner of the main hall, the shadow of the judges' pedestal revealed a leisurely sitting, tall and thin figure.
- Malthael. I believed you were within the Pools. What brings you here? – Tyrael drifted to him.
Malthael merely gestured at the entrance of the halls.
- Has he been bothering you as well? – Tyrael followed his gesture with his gaze.
- Quite. Persistent, that one.
- And foolish. I am not sure why he isn't more like my Judges or Bailiffs.
- Dreams can be colorful. Blinding. Dangerous – Malthael said, his voice dropping a couple tones at the last words.
- He will learn.
- Or he will die.
Tyrael uneasily turned back to Malthael. Wisdom or not, the Firstborn could be painfully blunt, while simultaneously uttering the least amount of words.
- Leave that to me. Do not worry, I will not allow it to come to that – he offered.
Malthael stood up, his silence made the Archangel doubt whether the Firstborn was actually preoccupied with Inarius'safety… or merely seeing him as a nuisance that should have been long since taken care of by Justice. Because of the Arch's inexplicable decision, everyone instinctively expected Tyrael to be responsible for Inarius and keep him in check. A fact which annoyed the Archangel to no end.
Malthael glided past Tyrael, his robes brushing the floor.
- I trust the research of the Worldstone is going well? It has not grown weaker from the use, correct? – Justice tried to change the subject.
- It is far too powerful for that to happen – Malthael scoffed at the blasphemous suggestion, waving it away. – Research is… difficult.
- We know how to use it, brother. Isn't that enough?
Tyrael immediately regretted his words, as Malthael spun around and leaned unnervingly close to him, the darkness of his hood seemingly growing deeper. His gloved fists shook ever so slightly.
- It was but a suggestion, brother. Perhaps it would be wiser to direct your focus to the war effort. The Worldstone's secrets shall be there even after we have won the war – Tyrael raised his palms in a placating gesture.
- Not good enough! – Malthael hissed, his form shimmering.
- Brother—
- NOT UNTIL ALL OF THEM ARE DEAD! – the Firstborn screamed in an unholy voice.
Suddenly gauntleted hands grabbed a sickle out of thin air and Malthael struck, straight at Tyrael's neck who couldn't get out of the way in time—
oooOOOooo
Tyrael jolted up from his sleep with a short shriek, drenched in sweat. His hands flew to his neck which he found, thankfully, intact. It had been long, too long since he last dreamt with an actual memory. Outside of the final moment of Malthael going berserk, everything had happened with crystal clarity. Tyrael did not know when exactly Inarius had decided upon his insane plan, but in hindsight, it was clear this conversation had been an important step down the road.
And Malthael… For a second, Tyrael was back in the dark cold catacombs, staring down the terrifying twisted thing his brother had become. He uttered a soft prayer, hoping against all hope that Malthael was indeed back in the High Heavens, and had learnt his lesson, or at the very least he was in the care of his brethren, being guided back onto the path of reason slowly but surely.
- Teeriel! Hey!
Tyrael snapped his head up, blinking like an owl at the room. Oh right, he was sharing a book storage-turned bedroom with Quiet inside Izba. The little angel stared at him with wide eyes, sitting at the edge of his own bed, clutching a sheet of paper in his small hands.
- I… what? – Tyrael asked, rubbing his eyes as the panic was receding in him.
- You woke up with a shout.
- Yes, I… had a bad dream, is all.
- Dreams are strange – Quiet remarked softly, frowning down at the paper.
- You should be sleeping – Tyrael sat completely up as well.
- Can no sleep.
- Why?
-… Strange dreams.
Tyrael massaged his neck. The last flash of the wicked sickle still danced before his eyes, he couldn't go back to sleep quite yet, either. So instead, he looked around the room. The walls were covered in bookcases, chuck-full of books, letters, parchments, scrolls and maps. For what reason Adenah had such a storage, the mortal angel could not fathom. Or where she got two beds from, either. Next to Quiet, a large codex was lying on the floor, stuffed with all kinds of loose papers. The little angel seemingly yanked a random page out and was holding it.
- What does it say? – Tyrael tiredly gestured at the writing, having no better idea of what to do.
-… I dunno.
-… You can't read?
- Leendonn was teaching me letterz. But…he is not here now – Quiet said in a small voice, hopelessly tilting the paper upside down in his attempt.
Tyrael stared at him, then took a deep breath. He stood up and sat next to Quiet, looking at the page by the light of the little wings. It was a page full of scribbled notes, detailing the function of the male—
Tyrael yanked the paper out of the tiny hands faster than lightning strikes, and shoved it back into the book on the floor, which turned out to be a study about anatomy.
- Hey! I was reading that, essholl! – Quiet shouted angrily.
It looked like he wanted to punch Tyrael, his fists at the ready but stopped himself a moment too soon and worriedly glanced down at his hands.
- It is a book for—for grownups, Quiet! – Tyrael hurried with an answer, stuffing the book back on the case, immensely glad for the darkness that hid his blush. – Let's look for something else.
He stood up quickly searching for anything else in the dim light.
- Why is everything a grownup thing? – he heard Quiet pout behind him, flapping his wings and making the lighting wave. – This book, bad words, that "ssekkss" thing…
- The what?! – Tyrael gawked at the little angel.
- I heard a stoopid man say that word. But Leendonn said it was for grownups – Quiet barked angrily. – Everything is for grownups, it's no fair!
Tyrael's heart has probably skipped a beat back there, but thankfully it started up again once he realized the little angel didn't actually know what that was. Good, Lyndon wasn't a completely hopeless caretaker then. In all honesty, after the pick-pocketing fiasco, Tyrael had some serious doubts about the scoundrel's parenting.
Heavens know, Tyrael had actually fainted when he had learnt what that word meant. That had not been his proudest moment.
Finally, he managed to spot a book which was a collection of generic stories and myths from all over Sanctuary. He thumbed through it, making sure it was appropriate for a child, before sitting back down on the bed with a relieved sigh. Sure he knew most of these stories by heart, but it would serve its purpose.
- Alright, I will teach you some more letters, Quiet – he stated, placing the pillow behind his back.
- But it's laaate! – Quiet whined, hugging his knees.
- Would you like to sleep instead, then?
-… Nnnnno.
Tyrael gestured with his head for the little angel to come to his side, and surprisingly, he did. The mortal angel opened the codex at the story of Rakkis the Conqueror, and began reading it aloud, occasionally stopping and pointing out the unknown letters to Quiet and having him read lines after a while.
The next morning Adenah had to wake both of them long after breakfast time. She looked amused to find them sleeping in a half-sitting position, hunched together over an open book on Tyrael's lap.
It was even weirder when they found Ashava coiled around Izba in a protective way.
I am planning to upload at least one chapter every month. I think (I hope) that's going to be manageable for me, even with life stuff and my wandering inspiration. In any case, it will be a good practice of focus, cupcakes!
Thank you for your patience! See you back in April, at the latest.
Reviews are always welcome, about this plan, about this chapter, anything you'd like. Constructive criticism even more so!
Lore & Trivia Corner
- Tyrael the Scout: during the events of the Sin War, the High Heavens finally got wind of the place and they sent in Tyrael to snoop around and possibly soften the place up for an incoming invasion. Why an Archangel and not an underling, don't ask. So Tyrael was very nosy in places and he even thought it was a good idea to use Uldyssian's friends to somehow assassinate the guy – almost succeeding two times. Back then, Tyrael was also wearing blue robes for some reason. Eventually his assassination attempts prove to be fruitless so he said "fuck it!" and sounded the war horn anyway.
- Ground Zero of the Black Soulstone: the first time you enter into Pandemonium, through the gates of Heaven, you get a short cutscene, where Malthael gloats to you about deploying the modified Black Soulstone onto Sanctuary. Of course the Stone works fantastic and people start to die a horrible death. It is also shown clearly that the Stone is in Caldeum, which… is honestly a logical choice. Caldeum is one of, if not the largest city in Sanctuary. Going for the biggest damage, I see.
- Malthael the Jerk: probably unpopular opinion but I cannot picture Malthael ever being a decent guy. The Book of Cain claims that Malthael started out alright but eventually fell off a cliff as far as "decency" goes, but by the time of the Sin War he was already this apathetic gloomy piece of shit whose voice reminded one of the characters of death itself. So… no, Malthael was never a good guy in my eyes.
- Judges and Bailiffs: shameless self-advertising in my own stuff! I am working on "Angelic subspecies" for a while now, you can find them in this DeviantArt Gallery: www-.-deviantart-.-com-/-kenyizsu-/-gallery-/-63380638-/-diablo. The Justice lot is still WIP but Judges and Bailiffs are a part of that group, the two highest ranking, in fact. Judges are, well, judges, they helped Tyrael with dispensing JUSTICE wherever needed, and Bailiffs are basically "Judges in training", as well as town criers who announces newly made laws from the Council.
