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Chapter 17 – ARAGAMI

Esther's eyes were blank as she stared at the terrible angel, the beautiful devil. She could not comprehend that this creature was one and the same with the kind, goofy priest who said he wanted to be on her side.

Radu, though shocked, was still able to form semi-coherent thoughts. He had dropped the nun and now said quietly, "What… is this?", as his mind ran through possibilities. 'An angel? A devil? No…' A sensation strange to any Methuselah, but doubly so for him, coursed through his body. For once he had no problem identifying the emotion he was feeling. 'This is… fear.'

The priest – or whatever it was that wore a priest's cassock – slowly rose to a half-upright position, then suddenly threw back its head, fanged mouth opened wide in a scream inaudible to human ears. Radu had only a faint crackling sound as warning before the beads around his neck shattered, forcing him to shield his face with his arms. He lowered them when he heard a strange noise, and was confused and horrified by what he saw.

As if drawn by some magnetic force, Ion's blood – far too much blood for such a small wound – was slithering across the ground toward the creature. 'Ion's… blood?' thought Radu dumbly. He had a vague inkling of what was happening, but fear kept him from realizing it.

Blood swirled and puddled around the winged man, and a pointed tongue snaked out to lick dark lips at the sight of it. He lowered his wings into the red pools behind him. Radu watched with morbid fascination as dark blood traveled like an ink blot on wet paper up even darker wings to the man's core. Dark vessels on his neck became visible, and he raised a clawed hand to his mouth, eyes closed in ecstasy.

The inkling was now a fact, and Radu could not help but to blurt out, "Ion's… He drinks the blood of Methuselah?" It was a bad move. In speaking, he drew the attention of the devil to himself, and in an instant he held in his claws a scythe of giant proportions, as dark as his wings in color.

Fearing demise at the double-blade of the weapon, Radu entered haste mode while simultaneously forming fireballs with trembling hands, thinking, 'What is that?' Blood red eyes stared as Radu sent the flames flying.

The creature Abel had become seemed to understand that the attack was unavoidable, and so stood still – save for a violent flapping of his wings toward the heavens. This maneuver conjured enough electricity so that all the fireballs were rendered ineffective mid-air. Then he vanished from Radu's sight.

'I'm using haste mode. Why am I unable to perceive my opponent's movements?' thought the frightened Ifrit. His survival instinct kicked in at that moment and he ducked and rolled. It was a lucky move. Blue strands of hair, cut from his head with a swing meant to decapitate, danced in the air. Radu lifted the hand that had been holding him up against the ground to his neck. "Wha-What is that?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Radu, still sprawled on the ground, found himself staring into the blood-red eyes of the creature. His thoughts were no longer his own, somehow, the being before him was transmitting them into his head.

You are our prey. We will consume you now. The Ifrit trembled as he was informed of his own demise. The absurdly heavy scythe was raised into the air…

Yet as it came down there was a loud sound and the left side of the creature's torso vanished. The Goliath's main cannon had fired, robbing him of his upper left half.

For a moment Radu believed he might survive this encounter, for surely not even the thing in front of him could live after having his heart blown away. Then he looked closer at the spilt blood, and his hope crumbled.

It had spread over the ground and begun to bubble. 'Wait, those aren't bubbles… They're…mouths?'

Countless tiny mouths, with even smaller fangs, had formed. They attacked the pieces of flesh with a voracious appetite, as if the scorched meat and bone were the finest of meals. When none remained, the mouths, sated, returned to blood, which then returned to its owner by way of his drooped wing.

As the blood traveled up his remaining wing, Abel's torso began to reform – guts, muscle, bone, and skin regenerated. Horrified, Radu gasped, "… Is this a joke?" He had nearly vomited as the mouths were feeding, but now his fear was too overwhelming. The creature stood before him exactly as before, save for a torn cassock.

Brandishing his scythe once more, he swung at the Goliath, tearing apart the 50-ton battle machine as if it were made of paper. The resulting explosion caused Radu to exclaim "Ah!", which drew the creature away from his momentary distraction and back to his main focus: nourishment. He turned and looked at Radu, who thought, with a sense of finality, 'He is - He's going to kill me.' The Methuselah had never imagined that an emotion could ever be so strong, that he would ever even feel fear at all.

"No! Monster!" Esther's small voice was louder than a peel of thunder to Abel's ears. He froze in place before the Ifrit. For the first time, there was something other than hunger in his eyes. It was pain. "You… What in the world are you?" Quite suddenly, Abel turned his head toward the nun, who clutched the Earl's unconscious body like a lifeline. The utter terror in her eyes led him to try and reassure her. "Ah... No…" Abel said, walking toward her. "It's not… I am…" She screamed.

"Stay away! Leave us alone! Please!" Tears streamed down her deathly-white face. He reached out to her. "I… I am… I am…" Before he could brush away her tears, she collapsed in a dead faint. He knelt beside her prone form. "Wait… Esther… Miss Esther… It's me…" Then he froze once more, staring at his own hands. His sharp-clawed, inhuman hands. "Mon-"

"No. Not a monster. Just Abel." Small hands gripped Abel's, squeezing gently. His head snapped up. "Lilith?"

Having crawled from the wreckage of the car, she stood before the Crusnik, covered in blood and grime, smiling so gently at him. As if she understood. "I see you," she said, looking to him like an angel, silhouetted by the light from the… 'Light from the sky? No!' Abel simultaneously grabbed Lilith Esther, and Ion, and spread his wings to cover them. He was just in time.

30-millimeter machine cannon shells, released at a rate of fifty rounds per second, rained down mercilessly. "Hey! Look at that!" called one of the last Inquisition men. A companion of his answered, "Oh! It's, that is, A-Akrasiel! Rufael! It couldn't be! The Inquisition's warships… Is that monster controlling the ships, too?" Those were the last words spoken by the Inquisition's common soldiers in Carthage. They became the next target of the airships's cannons.

The ground all around was being torn apart. It seemed that despite Abel's best attempts to protect them, Lilith, Esther, and Ion would soon be killed. Until the airship itself was destroyed and sent in flames to the earth.

Immediate threat gone, Abel released the Crusnik. Lilith escaped his grasp and pointed to the sky. "It's Iron Maiden II!" she exclaimed happily. Abel followed her example, saying "Miss Kate! Tres!"

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Together Abel and Syeira carried Esther and Ion onto the AX airship. Syeira noted that Tres left the ship and returned carrying a form much larger than his own. 'So, the Bureau Director survived. A pity. He will be troublesome.' Determined to assess, and if necessary, eliminate the threat Petros posed, she followed Tres when he took the blue-haired man to the infirmary room, and offered to wrap his bandages. At first Tres declined help, insisting that she take care of her own wounds, but she reminded him that the Duchess had deemed her mission - ready, and he acquiesced.

While tending the man's wounds, Syeira also took a look inside his mind. She was surprised by what she saw. Petros did indeed love a good fight, and tended to follow orders blindly, but he also had a strong sense of justice and cared deeply for his subordinates. While dangerous to their cause, she drew the conclusion that he could be reasoned with, and ultimately decided not to tamper with his mind. Though, Syeira did memorize his mind's unique signature, so she could find him and partially control him later, should it prove necessary.

Leaving Petros' room, she came across a strange and pathetic sight. Abel was crouched down against the wall, still dressed in his torn cassock, silently sobbing. Normally, she would have scoffed at this emotional display, but something in his posture and surroundings struck a chord deep within her memory.

Collapsed against the wall, crying in the hallway of their – no, her – rooms, knowing she would never see him again. Crying for her beloved and the child she'd never had a chance to love.

Unthinkingly, she went to Abel and gathered him up in her arms. He stiffened. "Lilith?" His voice was raw from sobbing. His eyes, when he looked up at her, were once again red, but this time with tears. She wracked her brains for anything to help, to comfort and heal. Remembering her own experience once again, Syeira softly began to hum a long-lost tune.

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Lilith did not answer Abel's question. She simply stared into his eyes with the same calmness and understanding as before. Then, as if from far away, he heard music. So soothing, the strangely familiar song and the strong arms around him soon stopped his tears. No words were spoken as Demon and Crusnik stood and parted ways. But Abel began humming as well.

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AN: Hello! I'd like to thank wolfawaken for their review, which inspired me to finally finish this chapter.