The Eternal Dance of Light and Dark

by The King of Ravens

Having just survived a nine year long civil war, those of Lucael would be forgiven for entertaining the notion of peace. However, new threats are rising, and as the son of the king, it is Caiellis's job to combat them, despite his youth. But as the leaders of a rival nation declare war and mysterious figures pull strings in the shadows, Cai will be drawn into the fate of the world.

31. Lord of Riots

Caiellis channelled condemning Black and White mana into the rough sphere of scintillating glass fragments surrounding the screaming Tradax, his detestation of the man powering his desire to make him pay for his sins, what he did to the Welkalite public and wanted to do to the world. The glass shards would be reflecting his inner personality, the dark heart of the Archlord of Rapture exposed by his revealing magic, and Orzhova added to the incantation with words of her own as the Sire of Insanity screeched in indignant fury as he sensed his master's life being ripped away from him. Grim vindication flowed through him, as while the thirteen year old didn't enjoy killing nor violence, he felt like removing the stain of Tradax from the world and ending the Tempest of Craving was something good.

Power rushed through his slender fingertips, his right hand emitting globules of shifting shadow that mixed with the imperious luminescence discharged by his left, the two combined becoming a beam of shining darkness wrapped in coils of golden White mana and crackling with purple electricity that fulminated from his Black Sun birthmark down his right cheek and coruscating down the corresponding limb, meeting the hands that were clasped together in the middle and sparkling over the enclosing prison of reflective glass that Tradax desperately flung bolts of his own vivid pink and crimson lightning into, shattering apart the pieces trapping parts of his own soul and as such sealing his own doom.

Caiellis could feel the Red and Black mana seething above him and into Jarred Redhand reaching a crescendo of mindless destruction, so with a thought prompt to Orzhova massively increased the amount of power he was outputting, dragging his hands away from where they were touching and simultaneously attracted and repulsed from each other because of the combined alternate energies swirling in a singularity of light and darkness in between them. It was incredibly difficult to tear his palms away from each other, but once he reached a certain point it suddenly became extremely easy and adversely hard to push them back together. He ruminated upon saying something, but knew it wouldn't be heard over Tradax's increasingly despairing and frustrated screaming, and really there was nothing to say. Caiellis didn't feel that much, just a sense of hollowness and vague pride at having completed his duty, as well as a tiny feeling of hope that he quickly strove to crush that his father might now be proud of him.

He pointed his palms towards the sky, the Sword of Glass thrumming in the ground in front of him as energies released from the crystalline blade flowing towards his hands and coiling up his arms, and then, moving quickly as he knew that if he delayed too long casting this spell and finishing off Tradax then he could be giving the despicable man enough to finish off the second to last stage of the Tempest of Craving, infused the glass imprisoning the Archlord of Rapture with large amounts of mana, drawing the six sigils he remembered from the Circle (of what?) Orzhova had etched into the air in the battle for Jeksaan, and although he knew his versions wouldn't be as powerful as the ones that the Angel of the Black Sun, the most likely candidate for inventing the technique, had created, they still augmented his magic power to an even greater extent.

The youngest Lucerna focussed on the utter hatred he felt towards the Orders of Passion, remembering the man who had been brutally beaten and captured because he couldn't afford to enter the Augur's Quarter, and thinking of all of the Lucaelian and innocent Welkalite lives that had been lost – almost including his big brother – that he would avenge in this final act. He then concentrated on more personal issues: the current resentment between him and his father was also due to these debauched bastards, and though it wasn't more important in the grand scheme of things than the amount of death caused – which would he heightened if he didn't kill the Archlord of Rapture now – the intimate resonance of it combined with Alexander's near death at the hands of the last vampire that the Welkalites had harboured and given refuge to powered his magic even more, until it reached a pinnacle of mana and saturated throughout the air.

"No! NO! PLEASE! DIE, SOMEONE! PLEASE! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" Tradax shrieked loudly as the wall of glass fragments began shining with a blinding intensity of castigating darklight, dark and terrifying hymns singing to the same tune as the ones inside of the lonely and abandoned cathedral inside of Caiellis's Mind Realm but with a much lower pitch blasting through his ears and even overwhelming the tempestuous laughter of the storm above, the rapturous screaming inside of Tradax's mind drowned out by this judging and chastising melody that pressed in at him from all sides and made him feel the pain of every single death he had caused, every single soul he had abused in his made lust for ever greater power that had led him to declare war upon another nation and invite death upon the innocents of his nation that cowered frightfully in their homes at the fighting outside.

First out of his sadistic and slitted cat-like eyes that were remarkably less arrogant knowing that his demonic patron had consigned him to this fate were the tears of self-pity and fear knowing that now he would have to atone for his crimes and that the demon would claim his spirit to add to its horde and torment it for an eternity of madness and pain. He could feel the Tempest of Craving calling for him as more parts of his body agonisingly shattered, vitrifying and then fracturing, splintering across the ground and spilling the particles of glass all over the courtyard as he cried, the tears turning into rivers of glass as well before they shattered on his face.

Then blood began to seep out of every orifice in his body as the hymnals reached a zenith of judgement, Black mana pouring into him and making him bleed through the cracks in his body as yet more of it fractured, his left arm smashing apart as shards of iridescent glass cascaded to the stone ground, mirroring the shattering of the prison of crystals blocking off his escape as they absorbed parts of his soul and splintered it into thousands of pieces, although Tradax knew from the depths of his being that that would not stop his master from claiming it and using it to further his own goals. He scrabbled at the ground, futilely trying to reclaim the particles of glass that had scattered throughout the courtyard, but every time he touched one of the fragile pieces they broke apart even more, millions of shards covering the earth until they dissolved into nothingness as tears of blood poured out of his eyes, mixing with the natural clear tears and then glassing over as well.

Caiellis didn't exactly know what his spell was doing to Tradax, but judging by the man's screaming it was immensely painful, and while he was certain that the undoubtedly evil Archlord of Rapture deserved the agony as he had inflicted much more upon others, it still slightly disturbed him as he wanted to kill him swiftly. Cai was stuck between his desire to make the man suffer for his crimes, as one, more evil part of his mind (the one that had wanted him to give Aksua an extremely painful death for what she had done to his big brother) suggesting that vengeful course of action, whereas another simply wanted the man dead so that the army and the Welkalites could be safe. The latter won out, though Cai made sure to reinforce his mental state and stop caring about the amount of torment he was putting the utterly and unequivocally earning Tradax Yulica through, so he brought his hands together one final time as Orzhova slammed the handle of her scythe into the ground, adding her power to his but otherwise not guiding him in the spell.

Tradax shrieked once more, an undulating scream of agony, as all of the shards of glass from the blast of soulfire he and Carramoshk had launched at Caiellis and the boy's dark seraphim erupted simultaneously, spilling the light held within them over the Archlord of Rapture and bathing him in a purple, black and golden glow that alternated rapidly between the aforementioned colours as more of his body vitrified and cracked apart. The man could feel himself dying as his essence was converted into healing mana that repaired the few wounds Caiellis had sustained, though it took longer because of the corrupt and vile Black mana wriggling inside of his loathsome heart, the result of his Infernal Bargain that Aksua orchestrated roughly seven years ago, attempting to pull his disintegrating body back together again. He then began to convulse as he physically felt his soul, his personality and the core of his being, starting to be violently ripped out of his glassing body, a feeling like he was being wrung inside out encapsulating him.

Over the condemning hymns of Prince Caiellis, Tradax could now hear insane and psychotic laughter reverberating within his skull, and knew that the pain he was suffering here was nothing compared to what he would be subjected to when the Lord of Riots got his claws upon the self-styled Archlord of Rapture's petty soul, as the man thrashed spasmodically in tandem to the demonic laughing inside of his head and coming from the Tempest of Craving that roiled and rumbled above, as Carramoshk roared in frustration at having his plans thwarted when they were so close to fruition and the Protector clutched his head in pain. A black liquid was oozing out of Tradax's eyes, at first starting like tears until it rushed through the eye sockets like a tide of foul liquid that throbbed to the sound of the malignant and hysterical cackling and howls of the Defiler, pushing the eyes out of their sockets in a sickening loss of sight, though it still didn't release him from the tormenting crimson glow mixed in with the judgement giving purple from Caiellis's magic of light and darkness mixed.

Then, Tradax was freed from the physical agony when a golden scythe swept into his spasming and crystallising form, smashing him apart for good and cleaving his head off of his shoulders – although disturbingly to Cai, the last expression etched upon the Archlord of Rapture's face wasn't representative of the pain he had been going through. It wasn't a howl of pain, but a rictus grin that rolled up at him as the head bounced across the courtyard of the personal Redhand mansion from the force of Orzhova's decapitating blow, a smile of pure and unadulterated insanity and ecstasy, like the agony of his brutal murder was the apotheosis of bliss and in his final moments Tradax had revelled in it, but the thoughts quickly passed from Caiellis's mind as the head dissolved into millions of minuscule flecks of glass that were swept away by the wind of the storm above, though the boy could sense the chaotic Black and Red mana emanating from it and directed at the City of Pleasure slowly fading with the death of the one who was casting it.

Cai sighed softly, feeling exhausted by the fight, as killing someone who had that much pure mana fountaining through him was and incredibly difficult task and required significant amounts of energy from the ones trying to do it if they wanted to kill their foe in a magic-utilising manner. He was breathing relatively heavily, and though the sensation of hollowness was still quite prominent it was becoming accompanied by an influx of an emotion that he didn't often feel when it was directed towards himself, but one that he felt was currently understandable and completely justified – pride. Despite hating killing, and knowing that at the heart of his being that it was deeply wrong, Cai couldn't help but feel proud of the fact that he had gone alone and killed the channeller of the Tempest of Craving by himself, though he soon smothered the slightly premature feeling when he reminded himself that there was still a bloody battle to be won, but hopefully without the storm's frenzied influence the Welkalites would be overrun by the indomitable Lucaelian legions. He just wished that as many casualties as possible had been prevented.

The boy slid his weightless and beautiful relic armament out of the ground, musing that he had never really expressed his gratitude for his father for that and figuring that he could do so when this battle finished, but there was still a concerning presence at the back of his mind and to his right. The littlest potential heir to the throne looked around, keeping his Sword of Glass unsheathed should he need to use it again, and was presented with the restrained but no less terrifying visage of the Sire of Insanity, who railed against the bonds of shadows and incandescence imposed upon it by the exiled member of the First Sisterhoods, its bulging and red flesh straining against the chains of golden light coated by midnight shadow that constricted the greater demon's movements as well as restricted its disorderly and madness-inducing Red and Black mana.

Carramoshk glared at him out of his vivid green eyes with undisguised hatred, as Jarred Redhand finally stopped his screaming and the Tempest of Craving blocking out the Welkalite sun from above ceased with its thunderous displays of crackling crimson electricity that it periodically discharged upon Usnaan. The Rain of Gore stopped pounding the city beneath it with its torrential downpour of blood, and in spite of the onslaught in the Welkalite capital below Caiellis's vantage point on top of the hill which the Protector's private residence was located upon, a kind of silence descended, punctuated only by his heavy breathing from the amount of mana he had generated (though he still felt divine because of the fact that he hadn't yet dismissed Orzhova and White and Black mana was still coursing through his young veins) and the sniffling of Jarred.

It vaguely surprised the boy that the demon had not yet returned to Sancturia with the death of its Summoner, although he supposed that demons, alongside a few other Sancturia creatures, had the ability to move between the worlds at will, just could not sustain themselves outside of Sancturia without the mana in the other realm powering them for very long, as opposed to Unbound who could remain in the material plane almost indefinitely. The Sire of Insanity glowered at him, its emerald gaze dripping with frustration, anger and a little bit of fear, though Caiellis knew that wasn't directed at him and was most likely aimed towards Orzhova, who was noticeably more brutal when it came to demons and could consign them to much more painful deaths because of the fact that she possessed the Black mana that the demons manipulated themselves.

Then, its scaly scarlet features twisted from the snarl it had been wearing to an exultant grin, filling Caiellis with a mixture of bewilderment at its sudden change of expression, and fear at what it could herald (although it could be a product of the greater demon's obvious psychopathy that was much more profound than when found in humans), and Carramoshk started laughing, cackling hysterically and grinning triumphantly at the thirteen year old prince, who directed a glance at Orzhova when the angel snarled, "What is so funny, damned one?"

"Oh, little dark seraphim, you have no idea!" it howled, and Cai was sure that it would have rolled over in convulsive laughter had it not been pulled down by the restraints of light and dark wrapped around its slug-like body, and the boy began to have his confusion replaced with deep, primal terror. The Angel of the Black Sun looked furious, but within her twinkling onyx eyes Caiellis perceived something that terrified him much more than the Sire of Insanity's demented chortling – fear. He had barely ever seen a First Sisterhood angel scared before, even when fighting the darkest and most vile of foes, so whatever had driven Orzhova to have alarm clearly written upon her pale and flawless (in spite of the wounds she had suffered that had already fully repaired) was certainly something a mere mortal like him to be afraid of – no matter if he was a Lucerna or not. Carramoshk then giggled, "The Vessel is ready! Despite your best efforts, the ritual is complete! The Tally has been met! HAHAHA! You caused this, little Lucerna boy, you did this! My master planned this all along! Tra-"

"Be silent, foul creature!" Orzhova yelled, tightening the chains around the beast, but the words had been spoken and Caiellis could feel gigantic amounts of Red and Black mana – more than he had ever felt before in his entire life – pouring out of the Tempest of Craving, as it began to rain with a torrential downpour of blood once again, though this time the droplets of vitae were searingly hot and Cai was immensely grateful for his shield that Orzhova had created for him as the rain burnt through the ground at his feet it was that hot, easily corroding and incinerating Jarred Redhand's flesh as his skin was burnt off and terrifying blackened muscle was exposed as the Protector dragged himself to his knees. The storm above rumbled with an even greater fury, opening itself up and arcing huge amounts of electricity towards the ground below, where it impacted and exploded amongst the battle for Usnaan.

Cai froze up. Paralysis ran through his veins at the sheer, unrelenting terror he felt at their current predicament, the laughter of a dark god that was easily as scary, if not more so than the laughing of his migraine as another pulsed behind his eyes. He couldn't move, and he began to hyperventilate him panic as another series of atavistic howls that would only be satiated when every single mortal on this pathetic planet bowed down towards the one that was coming and submitted to his psychopathic whims, crashed through the air in a cacophonous disregard for the laws of physics, mixed with cries of hedonism at the culmination of the realisation of all wanton desire and lust. His mind was filled with frightening images, echoing what had occurred when he had touched the Sire of Insanity but at a much greater magnitude as it prevented his movements and showed him scenes of utter depravity and madness that massively eclipsed what Carramoshk had caused him to see, vistas of gore and violence and hedonism and death and a multitude of other, horrible things that would haunt his young mind forever as he felt like he was drowning in a wave of blood and body parts that washed over his mind and burnt off his skin with their searing heat.

He heard Orzhova scream in panic and distantly felt his dark seraph yank him off of his feet as the ground exploded into lava beneath them as meteorites spewing hellish flames of black darkness and destructive crimson were spat out of the Tempest of Craving and impacted violently into the ground, pieces of obsidian rock clattering against a shield that the Angel of the Black Sun conjured up in front of her young Summoner as yet more rocky missiles rained down from the sky amidst the bloody torrent and eruptions of fiery lava fountained out of cracks in the abused ground like the world had been sliced open and it was pouring its steaming lifeblood out of its wounds to be joined by the gory precipitation of viscera streaking down from the bellowing and laughing heavens. However, Cai couldn't pay attention to any of the destructive transformation of the land around him, as he was still stuck inside of his own mind and trapped within the petrifying images that pressed in on his fragile psyche at all sides and threatened to overwhelm his young and ostensibly innocent mind with the amount of horrifying bloodshed as the stench of death, stinking lifeblood and debased pleasure clogged up the boy's nostrils and had him violently retching and his stomach churning at the revolting scent.

Orzhova dragged her boy Summoner away from the colourfully exploding and erupting ground of the courtyard as spikes of obsidian rock thrust out of the ground and arced over the plaza, crashing through the buildings that made up Jarred Redhand's former residence and smashing the houses and rooms apart, the rock already glowing with an ominous molten light as the temperature began to rise to unbearable levels and the Rain of Gore coated the stone spires in blood that instantly began to stream down them as yet more thrust themselves out of the ground, reminding the Angel of the Black Sun of one of the many places she had visited in her long (but not for a functionally immortal creature) exiled out of the Sanctum Angelica. A blaring sound like a mixture of hedonistic howls from all kinds of inhuman creatures and obtrusively loud music, a discordant cacophony of the sounds present at vile carnivals of debauchery and sin but amplified to levels that made even Orzhova's angelic ears, so only Serra knew how much it was damaging the significantly more fragile Caiellis.

The spikes of curled more inwards, framing the courtyard from either side as several pillars of lava vented out of the earth on equal numbers at each side, and the screaming grew to an even greater intensity. Caiellis's mind images were exacerbated by the screeching in reality – he heard the sound of hundreds of brutal murders enacted simultaneously upon yelping innocents, the noise of ecstatic and lust-fuelled passionate coupling that he was sure was not entirely consensual, the psychotic howling of inebriated humans intoxicated by the most dangerous and euphoria-inducing narcotics and hallucinogenics. At that last sound, another thought occurred to Orzhova when she noticed the smoky fumes rising out of the craters that were vomiting magma up from the scars in the ground, as while they weren't affecting her as she was directly descended from "holy" Serra herself and part of the first generation of angels, they could be part of the reason why the boy was convulsing spasmodically in her iron grip.

Dodging another explosion of hellfire that wasn't outwardly targeted at her, she and Cai just happened to be in the vicinity of it, she created a shimmering shield of glass above her that warded off the attacks of other projectiles that shattered apart on the crystalline protection and placed her Summoner on his knees in front of her, forming a golden respirator around his mouth that would extract the harmful chemicals and unnatural substances from the air he was ingesting and purify his breathing, and despite the fact that what was going on around them was incredibly dangerous Orzhova was utterly unprepared for what she saw when she spun the youngster around and looked into his eyes.

The Lenses of Guilt and Innocence had faded, probably because the boy couldn't cope with the strain and the amount of power that would be excruciatingly directed into the former from the terrifying entrance of the Defiler – as that was what Orzhova assumed was going on – and Cai's emerald green eyes were opened wide and bloodshot, reflecting his inner thoughts of pure fear and absolute terror at whatever the young boy was being shown in his mind, and the veins on his face were pulsing and as a result his normally pale cheeks were red and hot, though whether that was mostly due to the former reason or predominantly because of the high temperature was unknown to the dark seraph. At any rate, what was known to the angel was that her Summoner was in immense distress, which was completely understandable because it was said (and proven) that the presence of the one that was ripping his way into the material plane and into the embattled city of Usnaan could fracture and tear apart even the most rigorously trained and fortified minds should they try to face it on their own, plunging them into a fiery abyss of madness from which not even death could provide an escape from, as any that died in that manner were claimed by the demon.

Furthermore, the boy's pupils were heavily dilated, which meant that he wouldn't be seeing clearly at all, nor was he able to concentrate on the world outside of his mind, so she shook him again in an attempt to reach him and infused him with White mana that would reinforce her young Summoner's mental state, but her magic was blocked by the disruptive influences of the Red and Black pouring into the teenager that prevented her from accessing his mind and made the angel growl in frustration.

Caiellis couldn't hear Orzhova's shouted words over the echoing in his skull, the maddening pounding of his heart that reverberated throughout his head and sent stabs of pain through his entire body, and the boy assumed he had let out a pathetic and pitiful whimper because that was what he thought he would have done, but as it was he had no idea what was happening because his mental functions were frozen in place by the sheer horror and cruelty of the dark and debased degeneracies committed by hostile figures inside of his mind.

The Angel of the Black Sun tried again, flicking an alarmed glance towards the howling Jarred Redhand as a pit of lava was opening up from where he was tied to the ground by ropes that somehow hadn't been incinerated but shone with a malicious crimson glow, and where Carramoshk was guffawing uncontrollably (as she had been forced to drop her spells that were silencing the Sire of Insanity in order to resist the explosions of hellfire erupting all around her) and shrieked, "MAKE WAY FOR THE LORD OF RIOTS! MAKE WAY FOR THE DEFLIER, PATHETIC MORTALS!" and sending a shiver of despair down the angel that she rarely felt because of sheer danger – though she had often experienced sorrow because of emotional agony.

She tried for a final time to reach the boy from where he was locked within his own mind, although she knew the state of his predicament because she could sense his surface thoughts and lived inside of the quiet and lonely Mind Realm of Caiellis, which the youngest Lucerna had been blocked off from by the seething and roiling mental attack. Cai whimpered and cried inside of his mind, wanting to escape from the images but every single placed he turned to there were more acts of deprivation being thrust into his mental eyes. And then he felt pain, but it wasn't mental pain – it was real, physical pain, and it hurt, but White and Black mana rushed through his mind and fortified it from within, capitalising on the distraction caused by the sudden rush of pain to shove the images out of his mind, and with the resurfacing of his consciousness to reality came the hopeless thoughts of: how can I ever hope to defeat this new foe if I can't even control myself before they have entered reality? What possible thing could I do to win? I … I don't know …

Caiellis jolted back into reality, his eyes refocussing and the blurry image of someone staring down at him replaced the one of ultimate vice that had danced in his mind, and the first thing he noticed was that he was screaming incredibly loudly. He stopped, his heart still pounding and his breaths coming in short gasps, and placed his hand to his cheek, the source of the stinging pain that had awoken him from the images. That was twice Orzhova had saved him from a demon's insanity causing magic, and as he looked up at the vaguely guilty angel who still hand one of her hands raised above him the boy put two and two together and assumed that Orzhova had slapped him to snap him out of the hallucinating state that he had got into – although, now that he had looked around him when a particularly violent detonation sent slivers of glass splintering away from the shield surrounding them, reality wasn't much better than what was going on in his mind. His throat felt extremely raw, and he wondered how long he had been screaming for it to be like this, but swiftly flattened the thoughts of having a drink and restored the focus that the new change in the fate of things had caused.

He tried to contact Orzhova through the mental communication link the Summoner possessed with their assigned denizen of Sancturia, but all he could hear was the pounding drumbeat of his heart, heightened by his adrenaline, and the sounds that apparently hadn't just been from inside of his mind still rushing into his ears. He quickly got to his feet, impressing the Angel of the Black Sun, and tried to get a grasp of the chaotic situation, assuming that in his folly he had provided the Tempest of Craving with the violent sustenance that it needed to metamorphose into this new and frightening form. Right, I need to calm down and focus. Giving into the fear isn't going to save the Lucaelian army from this new threat, and I need to prove that Alex putting all of this effort into me wasn't a waste. Since killing Tradax didn't work – Caiellis looked past the spires of rock that were reaching out of the courtyard, and the lava erupting all around it as the Tempest of Craving blasted lightning bolt after lightning bolt at a screaming figure that was shining brightly with crimson light across from him – Let's try Redhand. I didn't really want to have to kill him, since in all of this I think he is innocent, but if it saves the lives of the Lucaelians that will undoubtedly die if this ritual reaches fruition, then it has to be done. He would probably rather be dead than alive now anyway, though it doesn't make the killing any more appealing.

The boy felt conviction filling him as he conjured up the stained glass wings that had served him so well and were truly a gift from Orzhova, though it didn't erase the primal terror that he felt as well as the disgust of what this being that would soon enter the world represented, and grabbed his sword from where it had clattered to the ground inside of Orzhova's shield, stating, "We need to kill Redhand, Tradax's so called "vessel". And we need to do it soon, as otherwise whatever is entering Usnaan will do so, and I don't think I'm alone in thinking that we shouldn't allow that to happen."

Before the Angel of the Black Sun could raise any questions, as Cai already sensed that she was feeling guilty over the fact that it had been her technique that had allowed the thirteen year old to go and fight the greatest threat out of all of the Welkalites alone, something immensely risky which hadn't quite paid off as apparently the Tempest of Craving didn't need someone casting it and sustaining it to turn into its final stage, he shot out of the shield, raising one of his own and ignoring the trepidation he felt at stepping out into the hellish environment Jarred Redhand's mansion had been turned into, and he could taste bitter ash on his tongue mixed with his own blood from where he had bitten his lip in fear as he jumped past another vertical eruption of molten lava that would have annihilated his shield and wings.

Surprisingly enough, Carramoshk seemed too preoccupied with his insane and maniacal cackling to attempt to intervene and prevent the prince from reached Redhand, as the boy had to blast apart a falling meteor with a bolt of light that split it apart through the middle and sent the two halves crashing to the ground and the darkened sky roiled even more, reminding Caiellis heavily of the abyss that encompassed the Kingdom of Light and wondering what type of insanity a person had to have willingly invite that upon one's own city, although Tradax was greedy and power-hungry and that mixed with psychopathy wasn't the best combination. The transfiguration of the patio was one of the most over the top things Caiellis had ever seen, as while considering his Summoning ritual he wasn't really one to talk the whole thing seemed specifically designed to kindle immense terror in those that looked upon it, as well as represent individualism (something that in itself Cai respected, only so far as the uniqueness wasn't to the detriment of others) and a complete and utter lack of order. However, the excessive display was certainly no less unnerving and terrifying, and Cai still felt immensely anxious and scared in spite of the mentally fortifying White mana running through his mind, as well as the more ambitious (in spite of the fact that he lacked that particular trait) Black mana that reminded him of his goals and utter hatred for demons.

The boy used one of the halves of the rock spat out by the Tempest of Craving to propel him forward, collecting his blinding White mana to the end of his sword so that he could put the screaming Protector out of his misery as he sat in a pit of lava that had risen up around him, though it strangely wasn't burning him apart and he seemed unscathed by the mana, though his eyes had widened unnaturally and were filled with a red light that bled out of them and sent twin shafts of the same colour towards the sky, joined by a third that blasted out from his open mouth. Cai distinctly saw a large shadow imprinted on the crater filled with bubbling magma that wasn't being made by anything as yet in the material plane, though the boy could feel an immense presence pushing in on the walls of reality from the outside, the most powerful thing that he had ever sensed in his short life (and that was including Akroma when his father Summoned the Angel of Wrath) and possessed of such a huge amount of mana that could easily wipe out entire civilisations, and probably had in the past.

Individualistic, destructive and selfish Black and Red mana was forcing itself into reality in huge quantities directly into the poor Jarred Redhand, who seemed like he was coughing up his own lungs as more fire burst out of him, though it left him relatively unharmed in comparison to how much damage something like that should have done to a person, indicating that the instigator of the first revolution – the one that overthrew the Welkalite tyrants (although they were quickly replaced by arguably more destructive and dangerous ones) – was gifted with a formidable physical fortitude or the one that was coming – this "Lord of Riots" that shockingly Caiellis had never heard about, although reading material on the most powerful demons, the Archdemonic Brotherhood of Seven (that was in itself a parody of the First Sisterhood that had been named to Matalis Ortus Lucerna by one of the more powerful servants of darkness that he killed, and so it wasn't known if these so-call Archdemons approved of that name or if they existed in such a way (though the First Sisterhood angels seemed to think so, which was good enough conformation for most people) was extremely rare and what knowledge did exist was heavily restricted (though Cai was sure that Orzhova would simply not care about the rules of the Lucaelian society that prevented anyone but the king knowing certain things and tell him anyway if he asked) – wanted him alive and unharmed.

For what reason Caiellis did not know, but he assumed that the Defiler needed a conduit to focus its power into, as well as something to sustain it in the material plane away from the reservoir of mana that was the mystical world of Sancturia, but Cai couldn't be distracted as to the why of the reasons behind Jarred Redhand's unfortunate involvement – all that he needed to know at the moment was that he was obviously essential to the success of it, and as such needed eliminating. Not for the first time, the boy cursed himself in his laxity and his premature thoughts of triumphant victory that emphasised his perceived naïvety and stupidity, as if he had instantly gone to kill the Protector after finishing off the Archlord of Rapture (that he had a suspicion had chosen the title for himself to elevate him above the other Masters of Passion), though by ending it now he would have another chance to atone for his failures that could easily cost the lives of sickeningly high amounts of loyal Lucaelians legionaries with lives, families and hopes and dreams that he would be letting down if he didn't finish this now.

Not to mention that he would be abandoning his big brother if he failed, leaving the most likely extremely worried older boy in a desperate fight against the vicious Welkalites he had bypassed with the Voidwalk that he knew had been essential for any chance of victory to ever be obtained, no matter the other members of his family's objections to the risky manoeuvre (and Orzhova's, and despite only knowing her for a total of just less than nine days he valued her opinion more than he did his father's), as he still had a chance to end the ritual for good. Determination filled him, a sense of purpose that he didn't often feel in such amounts but was fuelling his mana and coursing through his circulatory system, sending adrenaline and resolve pumping throughout his young body as he descended upon the bound Protector as the shadow around the man was growing ever more solid and bony protrusions were extending from within the man's body, arcing up from his spine and making him arch his back in pain.

Though he doubted that his magic would work due to the shadows coalescing around Jarred Redhand that would nullifying spells derived form both light and death, Cai still shot a beam of light at him with his free hand and launched a shadowy bolt of life draining darkness with his sword, allowing the crystalline blade to become suffused in dripping tenebrosity for a moment before it returned to the righteous glow that was the manifestation of his courage and his resolution to take this burden upon himself so that others didn't have to. A coruscating bolt of lightning crackled down from the heavens towards him, joined by two twins that added their electrical power to the first discharge as it shot from the Tempest of Craving at blinding speed, far too fast for the boy to ever react, but instead of being electrocuted and killed by the scarlet lightning an angelic figure had shot in front of him and was battling against the ruinous and malevolent energy of the storm with her own will to protect her young Summoner from harm that eclipsed anything else she thought, blocking the crackling thunderbolt on her spinning scythe and absorbing the generation of mana with her golden medallion, twin circles of protection drawn into the air by her scythe that was currently infused with guarding White mana that nullified the effects of the impulsive Red and selfish Black mana battering down on her.

"Go! Now!" Orzhova shouted towards Caiellis, but the boy didn't need encouragement as he had already shot towards the shrieking and howling Redhand, his anguish-filled voice becoming inflected and then saturated with undying and noxious rage that visibly seethed and roiled out of his once muscular but now wasted body that hadn't eaten a good meal in roughly twenty years, his wiry limbs tensing and relaxing and locking together in anger as more Black and Red mana poured like a tidal wave out of Sancturia. Cai would only get a single shot at this, and his blade had to kill him fully in a single strike so that the twisted regenerative powers of Black mana could not protect the Protector – at any other time the youngest Lucerna would have shook with anxiety and nervousness at having to complete such an act and knowing that a single tiny mistake could cost thousands – no, millions – of lives, but now his thoughts were filled with an adamant strength of will to succeed that completely annihilated any childish fear he could have possessed, although every second it took the terror gnawed on the walls of his resolve and threatened to collapse them at any moment, a testament to the devastating power of this Lord of Riots that hadn't even pulled themselves into the City of Pleasure yet.

Time slowed to a crawl, and every centimetre of progress he made seemed to take years as the Red and Black mana around him doubled in power every single second, rising to an apex of sheer power that's intensification was horrifying to behold, and Caiellis swept the relic blade around, a shining strike slicing through the blackened and ash-filled air that would have suffocated him if not for Orzhova's enchantments and leaving contrails of blinding incandescence and purity that cut straight through the solid corruption that had formed around Redhand, the screaming man clutching at his head and utterly unaware of the Lucerna prince's decapitating strike as the execution blow swept in. It touched the man's sweat-riddled throat that had spikes ramming out of it like the rest of his corrupted body, and the cleansing White mana burnt apart the flesh as it was about to cut through, before a massive explosion of power radiated out from the centre of the mana and the shadow behind him became physical.

Cai cried out in sheer terror, the fortifications within his mind cracking apart at the power that swirled around him and erupted in destructive sprays of pure mana. Horror filled him, as he knew that despite how close he had come to ending the Vessel's life he was still indescribably far away from it, and a mixture of sadness and defeat thrust its way past the tumbling walls of his mind just as he was dragged backwards away from the radiating heat and pulled into impenetrable darkness before he could be immolated in hellfire. He fell to his knees once again, his body suffused with the desire to run as far as he could from this new foe, or press his head into his big brother's side and let Alex battle the fear for him instead, and the forlorn thoughts inside of his mind were exacerbated by the pure blackness of wherever he was now, though the most likely option for the young boy was that he had entered the afterlife, consumed by the explosion and his failure to prevent it from destroying everything that had been built up in the world of mankind.

"Caiellis, you need to stay calm," a voice, comforting, soft, but imbued by an inspiring and motivational resonance thrust its way into his mind, penetrating through the walls of total despair that the presence of the Archdemon dragging its way into reality had incited, so Cai came to the conclusion that he wasn't dead, and that meant he had to stop being pathetic, had to keep fighting no matter how hard the odds became, because it was the duty of a Lucerna to battle on against the forces of darkness until their dying day. In spite of these thoughts, Cai was still horrified, and his body refused to obey his commands to stand up and battle, instead electing to remain unmoving, wracked only by the violent shivers of anxiety and unnatural dread that permeated his being and was added to by where they were now, but the angelic voice spoke again, stating, "I initiated the Voidwalk again, and pulled you out of there before we were both killed by the demonic entrance of the Defiler, so you are safe. For now, at any rate."

Cai nodded, reasoning that Orzhova had been right to do so even as one part of his mind stubbornly and despondently insisted that she should have left him to die in the Protector's mansion and abandoned his pathetic life for good, blaming himself for the successful enactment of the pernicious ritual Tradax had begun, that he was truly a failure and that he was completely worthless, unworthy of the love some people showed him and the respect and devotion the general population the people of the Kingdom of Light gave to him because of his Lucerna heritage that he had thoroughly proved unfitting for. Orzhova had been right, he should have just stayed with his father and brother and then fought this main threat with them instead of running off and trying to foolishly prove something to them.

Then another mental voice, a more pragmatic and adult section of his psyche, quickly silenced it, knowing that the abyss around him would be providing fuel for the fire of emotional and foolish thoughts as well as knowing that in spite of his lack of success in preventing the ritual's completion (though at least he had killed the so-called Archlord of Rapture), it would have occurred even faster if he hadn't have used the Voidwalk to travel here quickly, and that if he sat here wallowing in self loathing and guilt then he would be confirming his fears about not being up to the task and he would never be able to succeed in protecting anyone else if he couldn't step up and face his fears. Alexander would never complain about something like this, or become consumed by sorrow or defeat before it has actually happened yet. He wouldn't give up; he would keep trying until he succeeded in his task, and I should do the same if I want to be as good as he is. I can't let myself lose now. I won't. It is death or victory for me now, and I won't countenance fleeing or anything cowardly like that.

Cai relaxed his panted breathing and wiped the tears that had started to brim in the eyes that made him look for too young and childish but had inherited from his mother, straightening up instead of curling up into a foetal ball on the shifting shadows beneath him and raising his head up from where he had unconsciously pressed in into his skinny knees, glancing up at the angel who stood warily above him, her onyx eyes flicking back and forth across the endless yet paradoxically claustrophobic and crushing dark expanse of the inner abyss, scanning the area for any sign of foes – like the demon they had encountered in the youngest Lucerna's first Voidwalk – while her adolescent Summoner recuperated and regained his courage.

Her twinkling eyes were tinged with equal amounts of sadness, apprehension (as that was supposedly the closest an angel could ever get to feeling fear, but Orzhova knew that the truth was that they simply hid it from mortals and others extremely well) but pride in the boy as well, despite the fact that it had been his stubbornness but also his lack of self-esteem and sense of worthlessness that had ended with them fighting with an Archdemon alone instead of with the other Lucernas and First Sisterhood angels. She knew that pulling them into the abyss, which would almost certainly be more dangerous than when she had first taken Cai there, even though he had almost been taken from her grasp by a demonic denizen of this infernal realm before the exile of the First Sisterhood could reach him due to the boy being the one to cast the spell instead of her, and that this would only be a temporary respite, which meant that they needed to decide what they were doing now.

"So, we have two choices," the angel spoke down to her Summoner, knowing that he was still locked within inevitable mortal dread at the unholy presence of the most foul type of demon, but then was mildly surprised to see out of the corner of her eye that he had got to his feet and was stood behind her, still breathing heavily and trembling with fear though otherwise the youngster was filled with determination again, which made Orzhova smile despite the severity of their situation. It seemed like Caiellis could go from being overwhelmed by sadness, distress and defeatism to having his mind steeled with strength of will that few possessed, although it aptly highlighted the fact that he was both a scared child and a blessed Lucerna at the same time, so he existed within two states of mind at once and it was down to whichever was the most prominent as to what his mental state was like.

However, Orzhova liked to think that the power of her Summoner's mind wasn't just down to his vaunted bloodline and exalted ancestry, but because of a special type of thoughts that had drawn her to the infant him in the first place, though the Angel of the Black Sun had sometimes nearly been consumed by guilt and remorse at the fact that she, the disgrace of the Sisterhoods, had selected him as a Summoner, and couldn't help but think that perhaps her second favourite (which still put her low on the list of beings she liked (not that there were many on that list in the first place besides Caiellis), as the only angel she had every truly felt kinship and affinity with had been kind-hearted Serenity, her twin that sometimes reminded her of Caiellis, though it was treason in Lucael and the Sanctum Angelica for an angel to be compared to a mere human) sister, the Angel of Hope Avacyn, would have been a much better fit, and that the boy would have had a much easier life with her and with his intrinsic Black mana being suppressed.

The Angel of the Black Sun shook her head imperceptibly, knowing that she had more important things to talk about, and turned around to look at the small boy and examine the threats that could be behind him, looking deep into his wide green eyes that reflected his fear but also his resolve that were silently asking for her to go one, the dark seraph knowing that Cai would have only thought of one option and automatically dismissed the other, but also wanting to provide him with all of the paths available for them, so continued, "Well, technically we have three, but two of them are quite similar. We could go back into Usnaan once you have recovered or when it no longer become safe, and then we could either return to the Protector's mansion in order to finish this battle against the Defiler, or I could take you to your father or big brother's side so that you can tell them what is going on and fight alongside them."

She saw her Summoner's face change slightly, something that wouldn't have been visible for someone not attuned to his thoughts or not having lived inside of his mind all of his life (barring a few hours in the day that he was prematurely born, which was fortuitous for the dark angel as otherwise on the day he was supposed to have been born Avacyn would have got to him first, as the fact that he had been born too early meant that the Angel of Hope hadn't fully prepared so there was a short delay in which Orzhova to intercede, much to the antipathy of her sisters).

It suggested that he would much rather prefer to be alone and accede to this notion he had developed of proving himself, not that he hadn't done that multiple times already and it was his father's stupid refusal to see it that engendered these kinds of thoughts, so she then forged on with the other alternative, which would most probably be utterly ignored by the youth, "Or alternatively we could simply leave Usnaan altogether, and I could take you somewhere safe away from the fighting. Battling an Archdemon is going to be immensely tough, and I'm not going to lie to you and say that there is anything more than a minuscule chance of victory, but I'm confident that if you want to stay that we can achieve victory. However, I would personally prefer to take you away from the violence and the danger, or at least get you to your brother or father's side."

"And leave the demon alone to wreak havoc?" the boy countered, and Orzhova sighed, knowing that that had been coming, but was forced to turn away from him to resume keeping a watchful eye on their uncharacteristically safe surroundings, as they thought she had detected something shifting within the murk around them, as Cai added, "I couldn't ever just flee from the battle, and you know that, Orzhova. That would be leaving everyone I love behind, which they would never do – and never have done – to me, despite me being a burden to them. We are going back to kill this Archdemon."

Orzhova was vaguely surprised that he had worked that out already, knowing that the Lucaelians knew basically nothing about the hierarchies of demons, but before she acquiesced to his wishes she added, her voice starting off comforting and reassuring but becoming harsh the longer she spoke, "It is your decision, and I'm willing to follow you, protect you and guide you on it. But first you need to get that stupid idea out of your head that you are a burden on anyone. Firstly, you are still only thirteen years of age, and it is natural for children to rely on those around them for support, and secondly, despite what your father may say or do, you don't weigh anyone else down, and you help them, not force them to carry you."

Before he could reply, rasping and booming laughter that was all too familiar to the two intruders into the realm of the abyss echoed in the empty darkness around them, and a pair of glistening blue eyes opened up and regarded them with malevolence, and when the boy turned around he could see several other glinting orbs glaring at them, cursing himself for taking too long to recover and make his mind up so that the demon who professed that this was his territory could find them again, and a voice, the personification of dark malice itself, cut into his mind, No matter how much you try to shepherd him, Angel of the Black Sun, the little lost lamb will forever wander, alone, unguarded, and vulnerable.

"I'm getting sick, and tired, of your damn sheep metaphors!" Orzhova snarled, hefting her scythe and swinging it in an arc of blinding White mana that did little to illuminate the blackness, and the demon laughed again, sounding like it was right next to Caiellis's ear, and the boy instinctively recoiled from the sound and his perceived proximity to the demonic being that was taunting them, as Orzhova's scythe sliced through the spot he had been stood in, cutting through two pair of eyes that opened, but every time she hacked apart the orbs of spite they reopened elsewhere. Oh, I do apologise. Would you prefer that I use similes instead? Or pathetic fallacy – though there isn't much change in the weather of the darkness? Actually, you puritanical angels have little regard for literary techniques, so what do you think, little lost lamb? Hmm?

"Do not speak to him!" Orzhova growled, grabbing hold of her Summoner's slender hand to prevent him from being dragged away from her unexpectedly, and also with the contact she could prevent this demon from digging its claws into the boy's mind and disrupting the determination and resolution within it that would be essential for prevailing against the Lord of Riots. Aww, why not, Orzhova? I have the soul of a poet. Cai's eyes narrowed and a frown creased his youthful and pale features, and the demon barked with laughter again, In fact, I have thousands of them. Over the ages I have claimed the souls of poets, priests, beggars, slaves, philosophers, scientists, criminals, traitors, soldiers, children, rulers – including Lucernas, although my collection of them leaves much to be desired … (Cai heard the licking of lips and shuddered involuntarily) and even angels.

That was directed as a barb to Orzhova, though the Angel of the Black Sun knew that her beloved Serenity did not belong to this demon, but another, and she had very personal reasons for wanting to confront Johnias as well, as the demon continued, However, I will unfortunately not be claiming your soul today, little lost lamb. My adorable but ever-irate brother would never stop attacking me about it if I did. I merely came to tell you that there is only one path that you can follow, and that is to return to my brother's presence and fight with him. He has decided that he wants your soul, which could have been avoided if you had simply taken my offer earlier, but oh well. There are plenty of other delicious souls in the battle of Usnaan, including the delectable looking Alexander...

"Don't you dare touch him!" Caiellis yelled without thinking, his anger rising as the demon giggled back and Orzhova increased the strength of the grip on his hand, knowing that she was probably cutting off the circulation but not wanting the boy to succumb to the demon's incessant taunting and launch himself at him, where the creature would have no excuse but to claim the Lucerna's soul for himself, much to the ire of the other Archdemon that they would be soon fighting, and the demon replied, Oh, I would worry about yourself for now. For all that I demean my angsty little brother, he is still an Archdemon, and far more powerful than any pitiful resistance you could ever hope to mount against him. Ta ta, little lost lamb! I hope to see you soon!

Orzhova growled a profanity-filled response entirely unbefitting of an angel under her breath as the demon departed, leaving the shadows remarkably more pleasant without his presence there, although she sensed that he would return with an even greater force if they delayed any more. She turned to her Summoner, who had forced his breathing to relax, and knelt down to his height, gripping his shoulders tightly and looking into his eyes, uttering, "When you are ready, we can leave this abyss. Time obeys different laws in this other realm, and while it may feel like we have been here minutes mere seconds have passed in reality. This is going to be a challenge, but I am confident in your abilities to succeed, and I will be with you every step of the way. So, are you ready?"

Cai's eyes meandered for a moment, briefly allowing himself to think of the futility of his situation, but the ardent fire that had pulsed through him on the void-demon's mention of Alex was beginning to kindle again until it became a blazing inferno that he tempered into courage and determination to succeed and kill this Archdemon to help avenge the losses that had been incurred throughout history because of the demon race, the lives ended and the families ripped apart by the capricious meddling and vindictive manipulation, turning friend against friend, husband against wife, and brother against brother, so when he met Orzhova's gaze again his eyes were filled with hatred and strength, and he stated, "Yes. I am ready, Orzhova, and it is time to end this war once and for all."

The angel smiled at him, though it was full of sadness and fear of what would become of her young Summoner, who at first she had only cared about because the boy would advance her own ends of showing that she wasn't a disgrace, but after he had passed her Summoning and the angel had truly begun to talk to the one she had lived inside for more than thirteen years she began to like him for who he was, and knew that she had made the right choice.

Orzhova gently pulled him closer, and kissed the boy on his cheek, and while Cai normally would have turned a shade of scarlet at having a female that wasn't related to him kissing him, an angel's kiss was one of the greatest blessings (although technically he had already been kissed by Orzhova, as that was when she had first appeared in the material realm after over a century and it was the way in which a First Sisterhood angel completed their assignment to a Lucerna infant, usually a time of great joy for all in the kingdom ("usually" being every single other Descent of a Lucerna angel apart from his)) that could be accorded to a Lucaelian (one of the rewards for great heroism was a kiss from the First Sisterhood angel of the leading Lucerna, though it had to be the angel's choice to award it so such occasions were few) so he took it solemnly, keeping his face neutral but his eyes were tinged with honour at the gesture, although he remained blank and purposeful in preparation for the coming fight. An angel's kiss was supposed to be one of the most inspiring things in the world, and while Cai was honoured by it he didn't feel that, although it could easily be a by-product of the need to glorify the angelic benefactors of the kingdom and he had already been kissed once and was a Lucerna.

"You are kind, intelligent, brave, strong and selfless," Orzhova murmured into his ear, before she stood up and collected the magic of light onto the blade of her scythe, hacking it round and cutting into the substance of the void that opened up beneath the cutting edge of the ominous weapon, an orange glow leaking out of the temporary hole in the abyss that was already closing up, the darkness re-knitting itself, and exultant laughter could be heard at the other side, as Orzhova uttered, "And that is why demons will never be able to prevail against us, and why we are going to win."

Before he could give the pessimistic, doubtful and frightened parts of his mind time to change it, Cai ran through the portal between reality and the abyss of Sancturia, gripping the ornate and ergonomic handle of his relic sword tight and gathering up his White and Black mana around him, working with Orzhova to create a shield that would block them from the effects of the explosion that was just receding, as mere seconds had passed within reality and the detonation was only now dissipating to be replaced by something much more sinister, as the tempestuous laughter than never got any less terrifying the more he heard it – and was even more frightening because of its nearness to him – boomed across the transformed courtyard that now had the rock spires rising up at either side at least a height of ten metres. Jarred Redhand was still screaming, but he had started sobbing in anguish and madness instead, significantly quieter than his howling from before but still loud.

Carramoshk was also making noises, giggling and cackling hysterically in the entrance of what was most probably his master, the scaly red slug demon snaking close to the crater of lava that Jarred was knelt upon and grinning wildly as the solid shadows fell into it. A fist, massive and blood-red with bulging veins all along the fingers that were larger than Caiellis's slender thighs, crashed out of the pool of bubbling magma, utterly unaffected by the huge temperature of the molten rock, and sending hissing globules of it splattering all around it as the hand gripped onto the ground of the courtyard, cracking it apart under the strength of its grip as it scraped the rock with bloody talons as big as the boy's head. The fist itself was bound with leather stained permanently with gore as the rain increased in intensity as if in greeting to its overlord, like a fist fighter from the Order of Violence would bind their hands to prevent excessive damage (unless they enjoyed that kind of pain), and as more of the arm that was attached to the hand emerged from the pool of lava Caiellis could see a brutally spiked bracer wrapped around gargantuan wrist, and strange, curved and bony protrusions the same crimson colour as the skin of the demon arcing back from its wrist to its elbow.

The ground shook at the being pulled itself further up out of the ground, Jarred's whimpering becoming increasingly more pathetic and painful that made Caiellis immensely sorry that he had not being able to kill the man and free him from this suffering he was being subjected to, but it in turn made his blood boil at the demon who was inflicting it, the demon who was undoubtedly responsible for the fall into corruption and debauchery of the New Empire of Welkas, a hatred only matched by his desire to see it die and his fear at the size of his foe. The full arm of the demon was emerging from the magma, with a gargantuan bicep flexing and straining to allow it to bring its monumental strength to bear, the bulging muscle encircled by a large chain that had many smaller links coming off it and were connected to a variety of skulls in many different conditions and from many different species, judging by the many that were horned perversions of human skulls.

A pillar of flame rose up from the lava, collecting into the rough shape of a raging inferno that was restrained to one location, as two gigantic horns that were twisted and curled and far bigger and more impressive than he had ever seen before from demons kissed the surface of the hissing magma, and the flame remained in between the two horns, rising up in tandem with the rest of the head as the Archdemon slowly and dramatically pulled itself up out of the crater of molten rock, the Sire of Insanity laughing loudly and screaming in pleasure, a howl of atavistic joy that was met by a rumble from the Tempest of Craving above and a baying cry from the tens of thousands of Welkalites still fighting within the city, spurred on to even greater acts of deprivation by the Lord of Riots entering their world.

Then, the ending point of the horns were met, and two eyes were revealed as the last remnants of the lava cascaded away from the demon's malicious visage, though the eyes were currently closed as it pulled itself up. Then, as if sensing Caiellis's scrutiny, they opened, staring straight at him with their pits of malevolent hellfire that reflected humanity's base desires for unrestrained rapturous lust, bloodthirsty violence, gluttonous indulgence and endless wealth, and Cai was powerless to look away, his headache brought on by his receptive mind's proximity to the personification of Black and Red mana that was this godlike and twisted Archdemon.

The rest of the Lord of Riot's face then appeared out of the lava that was pouring away from it, exposing a skull-like appearance with two shorter and more stubby horns snaking out from below the others and resting on the Defiler's mountainous shoulders that rippled with red muscle, one covered by a curved pauldron of rusted metal that was in turn adorned with savage spikes that had human-like figures impaled upon it, their shrieking laughter adding to the din of the most vile and base nature of the human race populating this planet screaming out at the prospect of peace and order that the Lucaelian soldiers were bringing to the New Empire of Passion. Its jaw was as inhumanly proportioned as the rest of the Archdemon, filled with bone-white teeth that were surprisingly enough relatively normal, although "normal" in this case meant huge and frightening.

As the demon reared up, bringing itself to its gargantuan full height even though its lower body was still concealed by the steaming magma, it exposed another arm, this one holding a large, brutal and crude scythe, a barbaric mockery of Orzhova's golden, ornate and imperious weapon, the edge of it crackling with fire and orange lightning that fizzled along its length. The Defiler then opened its wings, absolutely enormous batlike wings redolent of the normal members of its vile race but coloured crimson like the rest of his flesh. It easily had a wingspan that was far larger than the courtyard, or indeed the entire hill in which the Protector's mansion had rested until it had been smashed apart by the metamorphosis of the landscape into something better fitting of the Archdemon that Cai was now facing. It scraped against the curved spires of brimstone and obsidian that reached up from either side, smashing the rock apart as it scraped against it in a spray of sparks, sending massive chunks of it that were larger than Orzhova crashing to the ground. One hit the Lord of Riots straight in the head, but it shattered into rock fragments on the demon's tough skin and the being paid it no heed, if it even noticed it at all.

Jarred Redhand screamed even louder, an agonised shout of pain, before the demon grabbed hold of him in one massive hand and swallowed him whole, silencing the screaming and probably killing the man now that his unholy role as the Vessel had been completed.

The demon had more skulls tied around its chest, but the one that caught Caiellis's eye the most was a large and horned skull definitely of demonic origin, nearly as large as at the Lord of Riot's head and vaguely like that of what the dragons that had once been the Summonings of the old Welkalite ruling dynasty would have looked like in Caiellis's imagination and the art that had been drawn of them (although those that saw the dragons and survived were few and far between) and were no longer in the material realm, although it was rumoured that in the mountains far to the south of the super-continent there were broods of roosting Unbound dragons in an overlap between Sancturia and the material plane, but currently the smallest Lucerna had more pressing concerns involving a massive demon that was in the process of drawing breath.

It roared, a peal of furious sound that would have sent Cai flying and instantly deafened him if he hadn't had a powerful shield that almost shattered apart at the intensity of the sheer volume and power of the noise, and despite the fact that the demon had originally appeared to be the manifestation of all human desires and excess, the roar was representative of a malice and anger far darker than that a billion humans in concert could ever hope to muster. Somehow, even though he knew that the demon was speaking an ancient language not known to mankind, he could understand its bellowed words, and it howled, "I AM RAKDOS, THE DEFILER, THE LORD OF RIOTS! I HAVE COME TO BRING YOU CARNAGE AND CARNAL PLEASURES IN ALL THEIR FORMS! COME, MY MINIONS! HERE ME, AND KNOW THAT THE FESTIVAL OF BLOODSHED HAS BEGUN!"

In spite of the fear that filled him at the emergence of the demon, Cai still managed to shoot a defiant: "Not if I have anything to do with it," at the towering Rakdos, though he immediately regretted it when the colossal demon swivelled its gargantuan head from where it was screaming at the Tempest of Craving as all manner of devilish and insane creations were vomited out of the storm and began rampaging amidst the Lucaelians still stuck in the streets, turning its fiery and malevolent gaze filled with ancient and millennia old spite that transfixed Cai in place.

The flaming orbs widened in surprise for a second, as if Rakdos had only just noticed that there was someone else in the courtyard that Tradax had chosen for the location of the Summoning ritual, although the Lord of Riots was paying no attention whatsoever to his new Summoner who's mana and life he was draining to sustain himself in the material realm. Then the demon laughed. It was a deep and rumbling chuckle that made Caiellis feel like he was a reckless child trying to extinguish a blazing forest fire with a single cup of water and would be burned to death in the attempt, and Rakdos leaned towards him, annihilating buildings either side of the Protector's mansion with his wings that simply battered through the stone that had withstood revolutions, war and countless debaucheries, and although the laughter was tinted with mockery, it was genuine amusement that a tiny boy not even five feet tall was standing up against him.

The demon was about to speak, before the smaller one stood next to it (that was still bigger than some buildings and had belonged to the insufferable mortal that had orchestrated all of this and fallen prey to Rakdos's lies about granting the man supreme power and freedom) snarled back, its voice full of blatant flattery and sycophancy as well as barely concealed envy, "How dare you, mortal child, speak to my glorious master in such a-"
The Sire of Insanity was cut off when Rakdos grabbed the scaly beast with his huge hand, Carramoshk's expression of utter confidence and arrogance fading as Rakdos let go of his huge scythe-blade with his other hand where it floated ready for him to re-equip it, and tore the smaller demon in half, ripping out its distended spine with its head as it screamed in pain, and Rakdos lifted up its head to analyse it closely before taking a bite out of it, acidic and corrosive demon blood spraying across the courtyard and burning through some of Caiellis's shield before he reinforced it with more mana, Orzhova's hatred fuelling him and providing him with more for when the fight began.

The Defiler smiled, his lips and face covered in the blood of his demon scion, at the tiny child stood defiantly in front of him, just out of reach of his arms or scythe but not of his baleful magic, and tossed the remnants of the Sire of Insanity away from him, the fact that the boy stayed instead of dissipating and returning to Sancturia meaning that Carramoshk had been killed instead of just banished, although Cai felt absolutely no remorse for the demon, and spat, the saliva mixed with the vital fluids of the Sire of Insanity (and Rakdos thought that it was apt that the mortal who named himself Archlord, like his pathetic titles meant anything when he was a mere human, was paired was such an irritating demon, although the Defiler's opinion often changed of his children and was as fickle as his attention span, as one moment capricious Rakdos could be lauding the achievements of some of his servants in capturing and torturing angels and the next ordering them to be burnt to death and laughing insanely while watching) and burnt a small crater in the relatively new and still pleasant rock of the courtyard that had remained untouched by the Infernal Bargain.

It then spoke, its honeyed voice a mixture of a strangely alluring enticement tempting Caiellis to abandon his Lucerna duty to the Lucaelians that fought against the new and more disturbing additions to the Welkalite forces that had been made by the most foul and deranged of artisans and revel in the extreme entertainments that would soon be provided, lord over swathes of territory that he conquered in the name of Rakdos while he was lavishly rewarded for his duty and could partake in any hedonistic indulgence of his choice, and a menacing growl that threatened to wipe civilisation and all semblance of order from Magnus-Primae and stamp it underneath chaotic revels of pleasure, and Cai couldn't help but flinch back from the noise, the ancient, malevolent language that he could sense Rakdos wanted him to understand, to quail in fear at, "Now that we are free of interruptions," he cast a furious glance over to the corpse of Carramoshk that was being eroded away by the Rain of Gore, before returning to examining the young boy in front of him like one would look at an insect before ripping off its legs and watching how it coped with the sudden inability to walk, "Who are you, boy who is challenging me? I can see that you are a damned Lucerna, as you possess the stubborn qualities of all of them to perpetually resist giving into my Festival of Bloodshed, as well as the blind confidence to fight against something you have no hope of ever winning against."

Cai faltered for a moment. Wait, what? Didn't the demon in the void say that Rakdos had already decided that he wanted my soul? If so, why would he ask who I am? But he quickly pushed the concerns from his mind, knowing that the mental weight of them would only slow him down in the coming fight, and that demons lied to gain control over their foes just as much as they told the unchanged truth to do the same, and Orzhova, assuming a lack of response was down to his fear, cut in with, "Caiellis Noctis Lucerna is the one that will banish you from this world once again, Rakdos the Defiler."

The demon was wracked with booming laughter once again, this chuckling also suffused with dark mirth and spiteful delight, and replied to the angel directly, "Ah, Orzhova! What a treat! The exile of the First Sisterhood! I didn't know that those dogmatic wenches at the Sanctum Angelica would let you have another Summoner! Or did you choose this boy without their knowledge? I would have loved to see the look on their faces if you did."

Orzhova simply glared back at the imposing Archdemon, who sneered down at her hatred filled gaze that could have killed lesser beings all on its own, before turning his eyes back to the faintly trembling Caiellis, who was repeatedly running over the edited version of the mantra that had allowed him to complete the Voidwalk in the first place. End the Tempest of Craving by banishing Rakdos, then save the Lucaelian force. Easier said than done, by I can't be having doubts now. End the Tempest of Craving. Banish the Archdemon Rakdos. Save the Lucaelian force. And prove that I am not a failure.

"Now then, young Caiellis, would you like to begin? I'm ready and waiting for your attempt at banishing me," the demon taunted, opening its huge wings to their fullest extent and blocking out the crackling light of the storm behind it that was the only illumination in the city from above, and extending his muscular arms to either side of him as if challenging the boy to attack him head on, flexing the muscles in anticipation of fighting against the Angel of the Black Sun again, although the first time he had done it she hadn't yet had a single Summoner from the hated royal family of the last remaining nation preventing the forces of the abyss from overrunning into the wider world. Rakdos was affording this brat with a great honour in even speaking the boy's name, but despite the fact that the Defiler – his older title, though he much preferred his new one befitting his status as part of the Archdemonic Brotherhood of Seven – usually showed no respect whatsoever to his enemies, he knew that Lucernas were important foes that needed to be eliminated despite the fact that he had focussed his efforts in a different nation to Lucael.

Besides, he hadn't yet killed a descendant of Matalis Ortus Lucerna, and it would cement his relatively newly attained position of Archdemon that he had ripped from the one whose skull was adorning his trophy hoard, Rakdos's creator and the draconic demon Malfegor that he had killed and supplanted, much to the ire of his original brothers, the other six out of the seven (who had only shown respect to the former Monarch of Sin when he was dead, but mostly they were more concerned about themselves as never before had an Archdemon been overthrown by one of their underlings), but he had attained the title through bloodshed and destruction, as was the way of the abyss, and proved himself to be stronger than his former master.

It was vaguely unfortunate that the first one that he would be killing was only a boy, and a tiny and frail one at that, but the child had a lot of power inside of him and it would allow him to repay his debt to Orzhova by feasting on this Lucerna's soul and subjecting it to the most vile of torments until he inevitably grew bored and discarded it in favour of another toy so that his minions could fight over it. Rakdos knew that because of the rarity of combined Black and White mana, even more so in the oh so holy Lucerna line, every Summoner Orzhova could access was one that was immensely precious to her, and he sensed that this time she had built up a strong bond with the child, which would make it even more delightful to break it. But first, Rakdos wanted to inflict some pain to the boy in this life.

Cai gulped, before he utterly removed uncertainty from his mind, knowing that if he didn't try then he would meet exactly the same fate then if he did and didn't succeed, and that Archdemons had been defeated by First Sisterhood angels before many times in the past and banished back into the vile abyssm from whence they came, so conjured up his wings of stained glass and blasted a bolt of darklight at the demon to judge how resilient it was to such attacks. Rakdos batted it aside with his fist, the beam of shining darkness repelled by the spiked bracer and refracted into one of the spires of rock that it cut straight through. Cai pondered for a tiny moment over whether the Archdemon had intentionally blocked the magic on his bracer to ward off the effects of it on the metal, suggesting that Caiellis would deal damage if he hit the demonic flesh, or if Rakdos had simply done it without thinking and was utterly unconcerned by the magic of the prince.

He would have directed it as a mind question to Orzhova earlier, but Rakdos's disruptive presence was completely anathema to any form of mind magic so the boy wasn't able to and had to work of his own assumptions, just like during the civil war in the few occasions that he was left to fight enemies on his own or when communication wasn't an option, but before he could think about that anymore the demon frown suddenly, as if noticing something for the first time, and then growled, raising his free left hand as generating tremendous amounts of Red and Black mana in the palm of it, snarling, "But before this fight begins in earnest, let us play fairly." he then swept his hand down, crashing the mana into the earth as it rose through cracks in the ground and shot towards Caiellis and his angel, both of whom raised new shields and flew away from it. The rapidly blackening lava (that strangely wasn't solidifying into rock like it would if it was cooling, and instead turning into something more akin to sticky tar that vomited out of the ground towards Caiellis) crashed straight through the shields and flowed swiftly through the air towards the boy, who instinctively raised his arms despite knowing that it would provide little defence against the ruinous magic of an Archdemon.

Instead of immolating him and covering him in a solidifying liquid, the bituminous blast annihilated the shield that was hovering just above his skin, allowing the Rain of Gore to immediately drench him in hot blood that would take away one of his greatest advantages, one of the abilities that he desperately needed in the fight against this Archlord. The blood matted his brown hair down, and he blinked as it went into his eyes, shaking his head as droplets of gore cascaded down his face and the rest of his body, staining the light leather armour emblazoned with the sigils of the Lucerna family a deep crimson that would take days of washing and purifying to remove the taint of the corruption. Cai automatically licked his lips as the moisture washed over them, grimacing and almost vomiting at the iron-rich taste of the blood as his stomach churned.

"I don't approve at all of you spurning my gifts, Caiellis and Orzhova, and now that you have been forced to embrace the Rain of Gore we are on much more equal levels," Rakdos sneered, and while the Rain of Gore would prevent any dark rejuvenation he would ever want to undergo the Archdemon enjoyed the sensation of pain that was far more intoxicating than any agony stimulus a human would ever experience. Besides, both he and the boy knew that there was little chance of the child damaging him, and if he did then it would only serve to incense the Lord of Riots into an even greater rage. Cai glared back, hoping that the fear that he tried to keep quashed into the core of his being didn't leak into his eyes or his defiant posture, instead attempting to focus his righteous hatred of all things demonic – especially this paragon of sin that was currently facing him – into the emerald orbs, channelling even greater amounts of offensive White and Black mana since he had no use for draining or healing spells now that the Defiler would simply break any form of protection he or Orzhova mounted against him, and keeping a figurative eye on the amount of mana he had remaining, which was still a very large amount but was almost surely be exhausted by the end of this battle, unless he died before he could bring it to bear, which was a very real possibility.

The demon smiled at him, exposing wickedly pointed teeth that were covered in the desiccated strands of flesh that was once part of the Sire of Insanity, and it seemed to Cai like the Archdemon was taunting him to attack, urging him to be the one to strike the blow and try to replicate the deeds of his vaunted ancestors in banishing the foulest of Sancturia denizens from the mortal realm, and he wondered how long he could wait before the Lord of Riots tired of his delaying and tore him apart. He needed to get a greater picture of what kind of attacks Rakdos would favour, although he had a vaguely clear idea in his mind, as well as which methods of assault would be the most effective against him, though he was guessing that purifying and cleansing White mana combined with the murderous effects of hatred-fuelled Black would be key to achieving victory. Orzhova attacked first, launching herself at the demon that was much bigger than her despite the fact that she in herself was larger than the tallest of humans, the golden scythe in her hands sweeping around to hack at the Defiler's arm, who smashed it aside with his own crude weapon and reached out to grab the Angel of the Black Sun.

Cai opened his arms wide, coursing golden White mana through his palms and launching a wave of blinding mana at the demon, who recoiled from the blow and elected to move his arm away instead of having the magic touch it, ceasing his attack on Orzhova who blasted a bolt of shining darkness into the towering demon with her free hand, holding the scythe one-handed for now and dodging an eruption of flames that vented out of the ground below her due to the demon's will. Rakdos, grinning all the while, simply blocked the lance of darklight on his hand, the energy of the darkness powered by holy radiance unable to penetrate below the demon's leathery skin, who then hacked his own scythe blow at Caiellis's dark seraph. The boy immediately launched himself into the air in order to fight with his angel on his iridescent wings that glinted in the light of the hellfire surrounding the pit the courtyard had become and was covered in streaming rivulets of claret liquid pouring down from the Tempest of Craving as it deposited yet more unholy minions and creations of Rakdos into Usnaan, screeching devils that were alight with the flames of hell and eager to feast on mortal flesh.

"Stay back!" the angel shouted at him, loud enough and full of and otherworldly imperative that gave the youth pause and forced him to momentarily obey her commands, and blocked the Archdemon's weapon with her own, an explosion of clashing mana radiating out from the crash of enchanted metal. Rakdos swept his free fist into the Angel of the Black Sun, backhanding Orzhova back to where Cai was, though the impact force of the blow and the crashing landing that followed was absorbed by a spherical shield of glittering fragments of interlocking glass that minimized the damage to the boy's dark seraph, who quickly beat her wings and ascended to her feet, shooting a glance at Caiellis and sternly telling him, "I will be the one to fight Rakdos in close quarters, and I want you to provide magical support. You running in behind me is exactly what the Defiler wants you to do, and if he touches you then you die, simple as that. I can take the punishment much better, being a First Sisterhood angel, although we don't have access to our healing any more. You are nowhere near strong enough to engage an Archdemon in melee combat, so let me do the fighting."
Cai nodded, not wanting to argue with her in the middle of a fight, though his gaze was firmly fixed on the gargantuan Rakdos, who simply smirked down at him, making his blood boil and sending a foreign impulse to through himself at the demon and personally making him pay for the destruction wreaked on Welkas and Lucael by his race through his mind, though he quickly resisted the urge and reminded himself of what Orzhova had just said, and that the demon was easily ten times (if not much more) bigger than him, and sensed that the Archdemon was placing the messages in his mind, although whether Rakdos was doing it consciously or if it was the rage-inciting aura that oozed out his corrupt flesh was a mystery to the youngest Lucerna, who knew that they needed to attack again and try to at least inflict some damage, even if he died in the attempt and it was others who brought down Rakdos.

Before Orzhova could swoop at the denizen of the abyss again, the Lord of Riots collected huge quantities of screaming mana into an extremely rough semblance of a sphere in his open left palm, throwing it at Caiellis who worked with his angel to form a shield around them and leapt back from the assault, though he knew that there would be no escaping the blast. The orb violently smashed its way through several layers of crystalline protection that shattered onto the ground, forming the possible basis for another attack in the future, until Cai conjured up substantial shadows that wrapped around him and reached out towards the purely destructive ball of mana that had no finesse or technique behind it at all, just a blast of unadulterated devastation that would kill friend and foe alike.

The inferno exploded all around him, making him unintentionally recall the events of the battle for Fort Egetau, when he had been the subject of a Welkalite bombing and had used darkness to protect himself then but had been knocked unconscious by the detonation, though while that had been explosive Red mana released as an indiscriminate blast this was a much more malevolent blaze that desired to inflict as much pain as possible. The pure gloom wrapped around him, desperately attempting to ward off the effects of the roiling Red and Black mana that took no shape – such as fire or darkness – and simply destroyed all they touched, and as the heat and the intensity of the explosion reached a crescendo it burnt through his shield of darkness, clawing at him with dark power and slamming the boy backwards with the force of the detonation.

Caiellis skidded painfully for a few seconds, some of his clothes – such as his trouser leg – torn open by the rock of the courtyard and the rubble that had been formed in its metamorphosis, and the fragile flesh of his leg which hadn't completely healed from his and his brother's ordeal against Aksua cut open again, spilling crimson liquid onto the ground where it mixed with the unnaturally coloured blood of the thunderous and hellish heavens, the Rain of Gore seemingly specifically coloured so that it did not disguise the wounds of those suffered underneath it (as one could clearly distinguish between the human lifeblood and the torrential vitae). Nevertheless, it still ran into his wound, and Cai inadvertently hissed in pain at the stinging agony of the unnatural blood ran into his wounds, quickly bringing up a shield that would cover his wound (but not heal it as to not inflict even more pain on himself) that immediately shattered, although luckily the shards of glass did not shred his flesh and simply passed through it as they fell down to the ground.

The boy shot to his feet again, conjuring a fresh pair of wings that had been smashed in his painful tumble, and, pushing the pain to the back of his mind where it could not bother him, leapt to the side as another pillar of lava erupted up from where he had been laying after by thrown by the explosion and collecting quite a few painful bruises, but luckily the thing that was the most severe was the leg wound so he had emerged relatively unscathed in comparison with the power of the detonation. He dodged another eruption of gurgling magma, and then hacked apart several shapes that the gore began to form around him, pre-emptively killing the figures that would be made of the blood and evaporating the vital fluids on his energised blade, but more were being woven into existence around him from the near-endless supply of blood at a faster rate than he could cut them down with his blade alone, reaching out towards him with wriggling limbs of blood before he split them in half with his Sword of Glass.

Caiellis charged White mana into his free hand from where it was still coiled around his left side, the effects of the Summoning ritual that he had used before the fight with Tradax Yulica still surrounding him and making him look divine to normal humans, but to an Archdemon would only serve to distinguish him from the rest of his race, and released it into the air, emitting a flash of blinding light that destroyed the animated blood figures that were shambling towards him and vapourised the droplets of gore raining down and forming puddles of blood on the ground around him, though the area of the courtyard that he cleansed didn't stay clean for long and was soon covered in blood once again, though every time it touched the crackling Black Sun birthmark on his cheek it was instantly turned into steam as the ominous reminder of his Lucerna heritage lit up with purple light that shone from his youthful face that was otherwise stained with blood but glowed with the darklight of his aura.

He turned back to Rakdos, using the spell that he had copied from his father to bombard the Archdemon with thousands of shards of shining glass that shattered apart on impact as Orzhova flew towards him, using the distraction of the magical assault that her Summoner initiated to attack him from the side as he used his massive weapon to burn through the ranks of scintillating projectiles, and hacked into the exposed flesh of his right arm, carving a vertical slash into it with incandescent White mana and making blood spray out of the wound, the foul demonic liquid fountaining onto Orzhova's shield that Caiellis helped to conjure, immediately disintegrating the glass-like protection and forcing the angel to dive away unless she wanted to meet the same fate. Cai was galvanised by the fact that they had wounded the demon, but instead of crying out with pain Rakdos grinned at him as the Angel of the Black Sun returned to his side, and the medium-sized wound knitted up and no more blood came from it.

The boy blinked in surprise, assuming that the demon wouldn't be able to regenerate itself with the Rain of Gore splashing onto it, though Rakdos let out a small but still bellowing and terrifying laugh, explaining in a mocking voice as it beat its wings and sent debris from the spikes he knocked over crashing onto the ground below, as well as flicking the blood from them everywhere, "Oh, you thought a blow like that would harm me? How cute. And while with the Rain of Gore does prevent me from using magic to heal myself, just as it does you, it does not stop my dark vitality from naturally (as if there was anything about this avatar of sin that was natural) repairing shallow wounds, which are the only wounds that you will inflict. You may have access to Orzhova, Lucerna boy, but you should know that the power of a First Sisterhood angel pales in comparison to the overwhelming force of an Archdemon!"

"Empty boasts," Orzhova spat, not loud enough for the Lord of Riots to hear, and while that normally would reassure Caiellis he detected a hint of consternation in her tone that she had clearly tried desperately to hide from her perceptive young Summoner, and that made the words seem drastically more hollow. She glanced at the fragile boy for a moment, assessing the state of the wounds he had suffered, and felt the urge to protect him running through her.

Cai was coming to the realisation, as the Defiler smiled at him malignantly, that Rakdos was just toying with him. It was obvious, really, but he had been too concerned trying to survive the onslaught of the chaotic magic to notice at first, although now that he was able to look at it he knew that the Archdemon would have easily been able to wipe him off the face of the earth with either of the two spells he had cast, or simply batter Orzhova out of the way and crush him into a pulp. The Archdemon's flaming eyes were lit up in sadistic amusement, and Cai knew that Rakdos was simply playing with his food before he ate it, full of the exultance of finally entering the material realm and knowing that there was nothing this Lucerna child could do to hurt him. He just wondered how long it would take the Lord of Riots to tire of this new distraction and kill him so that he could move onto something else.

Then it hit him, an excruciating cognizance that filled him with despair and youthful fear until he quashed it. Rakdos wasn't just playing with him – though he certainly was, and this new revelation confirmed that he was part of the demon's sick game – the Archdemon wanted to break him. Not physically, of course, as that would be an effortless task for a being that large and formidable, but shatter his will to fight and plunge his young mind into a pit of despair before he killed Caiellis, crush his adamant confidence to battle and try to banish the demon and enact his duty as a Lucerna to the Lucaelian people, and make him give up out of his own sense of hopelessness and sorrow instead of simply murdering the littlest prince, though whether that was because he wanted to strike back at the hated Lucerna line or because he wanted to emotionally hurt Orzhova before he forced her to return to Sancturia was an enigma, although Caiellis suspected a mixture of the two powered by the Archdemon's sadistic and fiendish sense of enjoyment. Nonetheless, it was still a possible that the evidently whimsical demon could change his mind and simply choose to kill him instead of breaking his will first.

However, no matter that the demon was only mocking his determination to fight Rakdos and inflicting pain in the slowest manner possible, Cai knew that he still had to fight, and that he would try to never give up, because even if he did die in battle against the Defiler anything that he did could help others to exile it from the world would be worth it.

Otherwise, Welkas, Lucael, and even the whole world would suffer.

.*.*.*.

Arith Fedili was a soldier from Scientia Mos, a humble legionary that was fighting with her division and backing up her partner and husband Galeon, hacking down Welkalite foes from the Order of Rapture with her standard issue military longsword and blocking their strikes upon her medium sized steel kite shield adorned with the ornate book symbol of her city combined with the heraldry of their captain, who was a youthful commander named Vadnan from one of the many small noble families (that were not as impressive as the larger ones) of the City of Books – the (once basically unknown) Noctis family, in fact, which made him a relative of the youngest generation of the Lucerna line and would have gained him great acclaim in spite of his lack of military achievements, as he was only a young twenty one and hadn't fought in the civil war that had claimed so many lives.

Vadnan was supposedly the half-cousin of the unfortunate Queen Emili, but hadn't risen to the rank of the captain of Division Seven because of his relation to the king's former wife, but because of his military skill and a dogged determination to attain a rank of leadership – and because of the fact that the Noctis family wasn't known before King Marik's marriage to one of their members (which was, while not unprecedented, quite uncommon for a monarch to choose their partner from anything less than the most prestigious noble families), he wasn't arrogant, and often spoke to his soldiers, almost all of whom were older than him. Arith liked her captain, and her original opinion of him had improved after he had taken the role from Division Seven's old leader who had died in the siege of Fort Egetau and had been much beloved by the troops, and told his men that he didn't want them to show him undue respect because of any relation he had to the two young princes; Arith thought that the blessed Lucerna brothers probably wouldn't be aware at all as to their very distant relation with the man, although they didn't have any family members apart from their exalted father on the Lucerna side of things.

Arith knew that she wasn't a particularly courageous nor powerful warrior, just one of the many troops that made up an army for the generals and those with strategic skill to wield like living and breathing weapons. She had never wanted to go to war, but had been conscripted into the army of Scientia Mos alongside her husband when the City of Books was besieged by one of the Arch-Heretic's (Arith still had trouble believing that a Lucerna would betray their family and kingdom, despite the fact that it hadn't lessened her opinion of the ruling family at all) armies in the final year of the civil war, and neither of them possessed Summonings or magic to use, relying only on their skill with a blade to prevail. However, when in the army Arith and Galeon had realised that they did want to help, they did want to make a difference – however small – to the Kingdom of Light, to repay their debt to it for giving them a safe place to live instead of being at the mercy of the abyss.

A tactic that she had developed so that she didn't lose herself to the fear and terror brewing up inside of her that so many others had been consumed by was to think about her life in general, and let her mind wander as she killed. She knew that a soldier should only think about the battle at hand as to be sharper, but she also wasn't an acceptable warrior and probably would have turned tail and fled from her first battle if she hadn't employed this method, distracting herself from her predicament so that the true horror of it never became apparent. Arith wasn't a leader, and she had no strategic penchant, so she didn't have to concentrate too hard on the battle as a whole, just the engagements her division got into and fought, otherwise she would need a much greater focus like those who led her. The thirty two year old was confident on relying others to direct her and those around her, and simply do her duty to the Kingdom of Light that had protected her all her life.

Her husband thought similar, although she was sure that the man had dreams of one day somehow becoming a hero on the battlefield, and was much more courageous than she was in Arith's opinion, in spite of the fact that they both had similar skill with a blade, demonstrated when she hacked apart a screaming cultist, blocking his crude weapon on her shield and chopping the semi-naked man who was tattooed with snaking yet angular and jutting symbols that lacked the clean and orderly resonance of Lucaelian emblems and hurt Arith's eyes if she paid close attention to them in twain, all the while ignoring the sickening spray of blood that coated her armour with human vitae that joined the torrential downpour of gore from the forsaken tempest above. The bloody rain had killed Division Seven's young mage when she had attempted to cast a healing spell upon the wounded soldiers, turning searingly hot and melting the skin off of her bones as she screamed in pain, almost making Arith throw up despite the horrors she had seen before in previous combats until the thirty two year old had occupied her mind thinking about the maths problems she had loved (though not had any massive talent at) as a young child and her husband Galeon had placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Arith could feel something momentous entering the world nearby to the large and flamboyant palace near to the centre of the city, but since she didn't have access to any form of magic it was only the back of her mind that was affected, a restless itch rising up that she couldn't quite pinpoint instilling her with equal amounts of horror and excitement, and the woman shook her head when she thought she had seen disturbing patterns in an explosion of blood from the man that her husband fighting killed, the colour of the crimson vitae more vivid than she had ever seen before as the prickling at the back of her mind increased in intensity.

A woman wielding two flails with their weapon heads as spiked skulls advanced on Arith, cackling and screeching in ecstatic shrieks of pleasure and pain at the scant armour that she wore that dug into her tanned skin and drew blood, and the Lucaelian blocked the first spinning strike on her trusty metal shield, half of her mind – the brutal and cold survival instinct creator – focussing on the battle whilst the other part, the more sensitive and sentient part of her brain, diverted her mind away from the battle, back to thinking about the happy points of her life even as she shoulder barged the other woman to the ground and chopped off her head, sustaining a painful crack to the arm that would leave a large bruise from one of her flails.

Arith and Galeon didn't really want to fight, but they wanted the Kingdom of Light to be safe from any form of attack, especially now that they had a child to look after and take care of as well – they wanted Lucael to be a place where children could grow up in peace and security, and the Welkalites were threatening that so it was entirely selfish of them to rely upon others to do that for them. This had been their motivation during the civil war, and was their motivation now, though they had promised each other that this would be the last battle they would fight in unless the situation was extremely desperate, as they had a son to raise. Zephris wasn't their biological descendant, as he had originally been born in the City of Quiet and had been taken with the refugees by a soldier that saw the crying four year old in the besieged metropolis and taken him with them in the flight with the heroic Guardian Lelia.

The refugees, those that couldn't be expected to fight in the further war, had been transferred to other cities while the rest of the small army from Gol, and she and Galeon had known instantly when they saw the frail-looking boy that he needed a family, and because Arith wasn't able to have children (which was a cruel irony as she had wanted them all of her life) it had been perfect, and a blessing from the angels. Of course, the proper procedures had to be completed, but there was no delay on it because everyone was more focussed on the war and there had been no problems with giving Zephris a home.

However, unlike Arith and Galeon, who had raised Zephris as their own despite the fact that he knew at the back of his mind that he wasn't (although he is my son, and that will never change no matter who gave birth to him), their son possessed quite powerful magic, and could one day become a formidable fighter or mage in the name of the light. Zephris would, in his future, serve the Lucerna family admirably and protect the community around him, Arith was sure of it. Her son (who was the same age as the youngest prince, Lord Caiellis, who had led the legions of Scientia Mos to glorious victory despite his obvious nervousness due to his youth, although Zephris was taller and slightly more muscular (though still quite thin) than the smallest son of Marik, though his small height did nothing to stop Lord Caiellis from performing superlatively) was staying at Galeon's sister's house with his three cousins for the duration of his parents' venture into Welkas, and had touched Arith's heart when the thirteen year old had cried when they left, proving that he had accepted them fully as parents – as there had been quite a bit of difficulty at first with their emotionally (and, more disturbingly, physically – which made Arith's blood boil, as who could possibly harm a four year old in such a way?) scarred new son.

Arith and Galeon had to survive through this so that they could go back to Zephris, and make the world a safer place for him and everyone else in the Kingdom of Light – and indeed, the New Empire of Passion. Arith had everything to live for – loving parents that had supported her throughout her life, a devoted husband that never ceased to surprise her with his love for her which was only matched by her own love for him in return, and a young son that she loved above all else.

Which made it all the more shocking when Arith found the sudden and irrepressible urge to savagely kill Galeon, who was in the process of finishing off a downed Welkalite foe who frothed at the mouth, his saliva flecked with blood as he thrashed the stumps of his limbs in a frantic and bloodthirsty attempt to attack the thirty three year old that put him out of his misery. A demonic and terrifying roar of a language that Arith couldn't understand but somehow roused a lust for wanton violence that she had never thought she had possessed within her reverberated across Usnaan, making the woman's head hurt and pound with more agony than she had ever suffered through before as she bit her tongue, almost shearing her tongue off as blood exploded out from the muscle, tasting sweeter than Arith had ever thought possible before and making her want more – but not of her own. She had already partaken in that flavour; she wanted to experience many more and revel in the intoxicating sensation.

As she staggered towards her husband, who was turning his frightened gaze towards the sky as the abnormal thunderstorm named the Tempest of Craving by King Marik and screaming creatures of all shapes and sizes descended from it to partake in the Festival of Bloodshed (strange … how do I know that name? What even is the Festival of Bloodshed?) and slay the Lucaelians, one part of Arith's mind frantically interjected: wait, what in the name of the holy angels are you thinking?! Do you really want to hurt the love of your life, Galeon Fedili, and deprive your young son of a father once again?

The other part of her mind, the one that suddenly hungered for blood, for violence, for excess and pleasure and death and wild indulgence and a multitude of other things that she would have found shocking and abhorrent only a moment earlier, but now seemed all the more appealing, insisted that she did, and the man turned towards her, his handsome hazelnut eyes that had made her instantly attracted to him opened wide in shock and concern for himself, but moreso his wife, and his mouth opened, but Arith didn't hear the question that he posed to her to do with the nature of the frenzied beings, the words that spewed out of his mouth meaningless babble that would merely distract her from the prosecution of violence and the administering of pain.

"Arith? Are you ok?" the man asked, his facing creasing in bemusement at the strange actions of his wife as she stumbled towards him, and at the fact that her eyes had opened unnaturally widely. Despite his concern for the love of his life, he was forced to turn away from her when he heard desperate and panicked screaming from the rest of his division, a devilish creature that was in fact about the size of a growing teenager but hunched over and with legs jointed backwards like those of a canine.

It glared at the Lucaelians with gleaming red eyes and extended long, glinting talons towards them as if relishing the notion of slicing them apart. The devil was riding on a hell hound that belched fire at a warrior both Arith and Galeon knew quite well and was fond of their son, burning the woman to death within her armour and crashing down on the pavement, flattening a screeching Welkalite Enforcer as the hell hound chomped into his head, its sinewy crimson flesh rippling with the strain of the landing as the bare muscles tensed to reduce damage as the devil sat atop it caterwauled and pointed excitedly at captain Vadnan and his Sancturia creature, a shimmering elemental with the features of both cats and sheep, violently yanking on a chained collar attached to his mount, which growled at him but nevertheless obeyed.

Galeon ran forward to intercept it and fight by his captain's side, the youth twirling his twin-bladed glaive as it lit up with glittering White mana and preparing for the demonic rider's charge, but his combat instincts blasted an alarm inside of his skull so instead he leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding a Lucaelian sword from behind that split the air where he had been stood. The man turned around in shock, and was momentarily put off guard when greeted by his usually gentle and nurturing wife, having expected a Welkalite that had looted the standard issue weapon from a dead legionnaire, but her pale green eyes were still opened wide but becoming bloodshot and filled with an emotion he had never seen from the woman before.

"Arith? What are you doing?" he demanded as the woman charged at him, shrieking in fury and primal craving and launching a rough swipe at him, not deigning to use all of the technique that she had learnt in the few training sessions that had been provided before the civil war before they were thrust into the force (as every single person that could hold a sword – including their adopted son, bit luckily Hierarch Martha and Guardian Weiss had placed the divisions of children in the centre of the city so that they would only have to fight if they enemy had got that far, so Zephris hadn't had to kill anyone as the besieging army was hit from behind by King Marik's force – had been pressed into the army at the sighting of the huge force coming for them), and those that they had attended after it before the Welkalite conflict, which meant that the strike was easy to batter aside with his shield, though the strength behind it was astounding and Galeon had never known that his wife had been that strong.

"Arith!" he shouted as she recovered and launched another attack at him, this one a thrust that he deflected to the side with his own sword, leaving him in the perfect position for a counterattack – it would have been child's play to ram his blade into her throat, but Galeon could never countenance ever hurting his beloved wife and as such withdrew instead, stepping back from her as she began drooling uncontrollably, reaching out her already bloodied tongue to lap at the gore coming from the storm above. "Stop! Please, I don't want to have to hurt you!"

The woman didn't hear him; Galeon doubted that she heard anything as her pupils were widened and had expanded to be massive, almost eclipsing her beautiful irises, which suggested that she had suffered some sort of concussion – but that wouldn't explain why she was attacking the husband that she had professed to love, and Galeon knew that darker forces were at work in the manipulation of his wife. He knew that, if push came to shove, he would never be able to kill her, while Arith looked ready to inflict death at a moment's notice, his wife's mouth cracking into an insane smile, and past her head Galeon noticed that his love's situation was not unique: several other warriors were turning on their friends, brothers, and sisters, madness in their eyes and violence on their minds, but some of them had already been killed by the soldiers they were attacking that hadn't known them that well, but were now being screamed at by anguished relatives and friends as the less emotionally cold of them were crying over the corpses of their former comrades.

Arith screamed at him and ran at him, arcing another overhead strike at him that he blocked on his shield, bringing his sword up to the crossguard of hers and executing a disarming manoeuvre, sending the blade clattering across the street as his wife glared balefully at him for a second before she tackled him, ramming her body into his and knocking them both to the ground, as Galeon fought to get Arith off of him without hurting her, but his wife was as strong as he was and pinned him to the ground, slamming the pointed edge of her kite shield into the connecting area between the forearm and bicep of his left arm, the one holding his sword. The man hissed in pain as the bone broke and he was forced to drop the blade, and the shield ground against the breaking bone for a moment in a few seconds of white hot pain before his wife let go of it, as if satisfied that she had prevented him from bringing his weapon to bear, and tore his shield away from him, attempting to use it to brutalise his face and crush it into the ground.

"Arith, please, stop! I'm your husband, Galeon! You are my wife, Arith Fedili! Stop this madness! I don't want to have to fight back!" he shouted, though the words had no effect on her as she pulled up the shield for another strike. Galeon reacted faster and punched her in the face, hoping that his mailed and gauntleted fist wouldn't cause too much damage to his charming and kind soul mate, but putting enough force into it to knock her out and send her backwards, allowing him to push her off and gain ground, or so he thought until he tried to move and found that his left arm was stuck underneath the heavy shield that had been rammed into it, and he looked up in horror as Arith returned the favour and punched him in the first, her other arm grappling with his right as he tried to bring it up to block.

She hit him in the eye, grinning and giggling insanely all the while, and blood exploded from the eyesight-giving organ as the vision on that side of his face immediately blurred and then became black, and then turned her attention to his other arm, drawing a slender dagger with an ornate hilt inlaid with a small piece of amethyst – Arith's favourite gemstone – that had been a present from Galeon the night before the siege of Scientia Mos. It was supposed to have been enchanted with blessings that would ward off the advance of the darkness and the curses of the inhabitants of the abyss, but obviously seemed to have no effect on the madness that had suddenly afflicted her, and she stabbed it into his free time, once, twice. The small blade rose and fell until his arm became riddled with cuts and slices and pumped blood onto the ground, Galeon losing his ability to move it as she severed veins and nerves, and every attack was like a stab to Galeon's heart as he thought of what would happen to his family after his wife killed him.

"Arith, think of Zephris! We have a son! Think of our son, Arith! What would he think if he saw you doing this!" he yelled desperately, frantically trying to pull away from his wife who sat atop him and pinned him down, and the knife blows suddenly stopped. He stared out of his wife with his one open eye, the other one forced shut by the swelling of the flesh above and below it, and the shuddering woman lowered the blade slowly, looking back at him, then to the knife in her hand, and then to him again, tears emerging at the corners of her eyes and sending relief flooding through the pinned Galeon, and he urged her, "I know you, Arith … You don't want to hurt me … You don't want to hurt him … And leaving him without a father, without a mother as well … it could end the lad …" he trailed off, swallowing nervously and hoping that it had worked.

Arith leaned towards him, and for a moment Galeon thought that the woman was going to kiss him, but instead of their lips meeting she remained just out of reach, her eyes still bloodshot but her pupils returned to a normal size, and perfectly lucid, she spat, "I'm sorry, Zephris … But daddy isn't coming home tonight," she whispered malevolently, before drawing the knife across her husband's throat in a spurt of blood. Then, long talons punched into her head, emerging from the other side as glistening and dripping with Arith's lifeblood, and Galeon screamed in pain. Well, he would have done, if he could have drawn in the air to do so, but with his carotid arteries severed he could only let out a wretched of heartache and emotional gurgle as blood spluttered out of his mouth.

The lustre of her pale green eyes faded, as well as the madness, and the woman slumped onto him when the devil, who had slaughtered the rest of Division Seven of Cohort Six, pulled away its talons, cackling maniacally. Galeon was crying at the murder of his wife and the fact that once again, his adopted son would be left without a family, when the hell hound's fiery jaws clamped around his head and the world went black.

.*.*.*.

All across the besieged city of Usnaan, the once magnificent Welkalite capital that had endured years of bloodshed and revolutions and was now being laid to ruin by the devastation of international war, hellish creatures descended on the clashing Lucaelian and Welkalite forces in a carnival of slaughter and carnage, the personifications of the most disturbing rendition of the acts the Welkalites themselves had committed in the name of carnal pleasure and addictive violence. Screaming in delight, the creatures rampaged through the lines of both armies, trampling over corpses and smashing apart carefully ordered formations with sadistic glee, murdering and slaying all around them as they were joined by screeching Welkalites who joined with the unnatural forces to push against the Lucaelian invaders that would dare to try and stop their revels.

As the denizens of the circus of madness bolstered the lines of the warriors and Enforcers from the Orders of Passion, who were galvanised by the thought of finally meeting their dark patrons and participating in debaucheries that would have been impossible without the favour of the demons that had given them the gift of freedom from morality, Lucaelian troops, turned insane and suddenly homicidal by the effects of the climax of the Tempest of Craving and the demonic roar that bellowed across the battlefield, attacked their loyal brethren in a murderous rage fuelled by the tempestuous laughter echoing from the rumbling thunderstorm that crackled above and discharged bolts of lightning just as it vomited more creatures of insanity into the City of Pleasure.

While he wasn't aware of the Lucaelians that had been gripped by a psychopathic rage and turned on their allies, having long since abandoned or lost any soldiers that had trailed behind him on his quest to the dark heart of the city, where the source of this corruption was located in a concentration of chaotic Red and Black mana, and hopefully where his youngest son was as well, though he couldn't sense the familiar White and Black mana of the reckless boy, Marik was quite well acquainted with the denizens of the Tempest of Craving attacking the legionaries of the Kingdom of Light, as he split apart another Welkalite in a single blow before disembowelling two others with a large slash of his thrumming greatsword, his power augmented by his and his angel's hatred of this corruption that had gripped the New Empire of Passion and had led to this war and the danger his sons were in.

An eruption of blinding light from the right of him disintegrated the throng of about two dozen Welkalite Enforcers blocking his path to the Palace of Desire, although he had no intentions of going there and would instead be attacking the site of where Caiellis had somehow used the magic of darkness to bypass the Welkalites and appear there, and Marik gave a quick nod to Akroma before he began sprinting down the avenue again. Marik would have been incredibly easy to follow, as the route that he had taken after defeating Enforcer-general Fraetus Etin was covered in corpses that was, despite the amount of them, under representative of the number of foes he had killed, as the vast majority of them had been annihilated by the magic of Wrath that his angel and he had used to clear a path to the location of the thing his little boy would be fighting.

Akroma was fuelled by a haste to get there as well, though for completely different reasons to the Lucaelian monarch – while the Angel of Wrath wanted to approach there quickly so that she could kill the reason for the sinfulness of the inhabitants of Welkas, Marik of course had that desire to save his force as well, but combined with the parental need to protect his youngest son (and his eldest as well, which he would be indirectly accomplishing by doing this) from the mess he had gotten himself into, though Marik knew that it wasn't Caiellis's fault for what had entered reality and that the boy had been trying to stop it – or maybe it was, and his son's presence had quickened the ritual since the thirteen year old evidently had not been strong enough to stop it alone.

Caiellis, if you are still alive after this battle – STOP entertaining the notion that he won't be – then there will be serious repercussions for throwing yourself into this danger, you damn fool! I should have never brought you to this war in the first place, and now you might get hurt because of your own damn disobedience! I ordered you to stay at my side! If you didn't want to do that then you should have at least remained with Alexander!

Marik's mind voice was becoming ever more frantic and agitated, his worry for his fragile son mixed with his anger at the boy's stupidity and impertinence was fuelling his desperation, as well as combining with the fact that he was more than that angry at himself for making his son think that he should have to go and kill Tradax Yulica alone, but another part of his mind soon smothered that, the more angry section of it that was furious at Caiellis for randomly becoming hypocritical and throwing himself into mortal danger without any allies, as normally he was a careful warrior and wouldn't have done something like that. He couldn't help but think that this was just another way for the boy to rail against him, just another way for him to defy his orders and make Marik think that he had done something incorrect, instead of the actual situation being the other way round and his son being in the wrong.

Akroma turned to stare at him for a moment, probably reading his thoughts, though her eyes were as piercing and cold as usual and didn't show any emotion other than hatred and wrath, and Marik knew that his angel didn't care about him or his sons personally, just the continuation of the Lucerna line – whereas Alexander's Aurelia seemed to like her Summoner as a person, and while Marik didn't know much about Orzhova's opinion of his son having not yet seen him Summon the Angel of the Black Sun near to him (though he had seen her leaving him and seemed quite fond of the boy), she had seemed to care about him quite deeply on the day of his birth.

However, his angel was right to be filled with righteous detestation of their current greatest foe, as Marik could sense a deep taint permeating the air around him, a stain on the land that he had only felt once before, when he had fought Johnias in the final battle of the civil war outside of Cassida Principia and left his brother gravely wounded as he fled with the remnants of his shattered army (although the king of Lucael instinctively knew that his treacherous twin brother was still alive and active in the abyss, though he hadn't reared his traitorous head yet in the month and two weeks after the civil war's conclusion). The Arch-heretic had traded away his First Sisterhood Angel, Serenity, for a powerful demon that contaminated the area around it with Black mana of an immense power, an Archdemon like the one his son was fighting against – although that one had been bound and under Johnias's commands whereas Marik could sense that the one within Welkas was acting of its own accord – which made it more powerful than Johnias's, who had relied upon his Summoner's power to fight.

Furthermore, while his twin brother's Archdemon had comprised solely of Black mana, this new one that Marik could feel was made up of the magics of darkness and impulsive emotion, and was bleeding it across the city of Usnaan and made him feel even more concerned for Caiellis. However, he had defeated an Archdemon before, and with his sons and his army in peril the supreme king of the Kingdom of Light was certain that he could do so again and slay the foul beast that had dared to set foot in the world.

Marik heard a squawking screech from above and felt the presence of concentrated Red mana above him flying down towards the ground, and his irritation rose when he saw a swarm of batlike creatures with the four limbs of humans – imps, he reminded himself, was what they were called – jetting out fire and leaving trails of smoke in the dark sky that flickered with orange embers, sighting him and Akroma and diving towards them, their heads spiked skulls far out of proportion with the rest of their flaming bodies and their ribcages open and trailing fire behind them as they shot towards the king, who scowled and snarled in annoyance. He really had no time for this delay, as the imps let out excited squeals at being able to attack an enemy and possibly feast upon them.

Akroma launched herself into the air, splitting apart one screeching imp of chaos with her gargantuan broadsword and, prompted by the king's irritation and her own need to get to grips with the Archdemon that they couldn't see because of the ostentatious Palace of Desire blocking out their view of it, raised her other hand, a scintillating display of light beaming out in all directions from it as she crushed it, the light piercing through the gaps in her fingers and targeting each and every imp, some of whom gazed curiously down at the light illuminating them whilst others ignored it and dove at the Angel of Wrath, who with an influx of mana from Marik opened her hand wide and placed it at the hilt of her sword, the Blade of Wrath becoming infused by the holy white luminosity as she tossed the massive weapon into the air.

It hovered for a moment, the beams of light still streaming from it and mapping the position of every chaos imp as they closed in on the angel and her Summoner who was bracing his weapon it case the spell took longer than expected. Then the Blade of Wrath began moving, animated by a holy will of its own and shooting towards the first imp, cleaving it in half and then firing at the next one, hacking that one in twain as well before the sword was joined by a host of other shining blades that Marik conjured into existence by holding his free hand up. He then brought it down quickly, and the swords flung towards the imps, impaling each one despite their best efforts to dodge and burning apart their corrupted essence with the cleansing power of righteousness, killing the horde in one fell swoop that aptly exemplified Marik's perturbation and worry, as any second that he delayed might put either of his sons in mortal danger.

"Marik!" his angel's cold voice suddenly snapped, though it was bereft of any emotion, and the king turned towards Akroma who was aloft in front of him and had sheathed her Blade of Wrath across the elegant scabbard on her back and was holding out her hands towards him. Further words were not needed, and the king of Lucael nodded, knowing from his experience at fighting alongside the powerful and exemplary seraphim what she wanted to do, and glad that she had suggested it as because of his fatherly fear he hadn't been thinking quite as clearly as he would be normally. The angel was asking for confirmation to carry him the rest of the way to the top of the hill behind the Palace of Desire, which would help him to avoid any further resistance as well as mitigating the amount of time wasted by him sprinting up the side of the hill, though he assumed that it must have had some sort of staircase for ease of travel.

The forty year old had never flown on incandescent wings of his own – as while Akroma was perfectly capable of gifting him with the method of flying, Marik had quite a severe dislike of heights, and although normally he was able to press it to the back of his mind because it was only a small fear and he had greater concerns as the king (or prince, when he had learned to control it), allowing him to travel by air (such as in an airship or being carried by an angel), he couldn't do it alone as he lost all sense of balance and was filled with nausea at the act. However, in spite of that his quality as a warrior had never been reduced, and Marik had never seen any occasions on the battlefield where that skill would have been useful or irreplaceable by any of his many others. Nevertheless, it seemed like Caiellis had not inherited his abhorrence of using conjured wings of magic, and he had often seen his youngest son launching himself into the air on wings of iridescent and beautiful stained glass, which was perfect for the boy as it conferred him greater manoeuvrability, which he needed considering that fragile physical frame of his.

He let the angel grip onto his shoulder guards and begin to fly into the air, looking down at the ground beneath him as they rose above the spires of the Palace of Desire, and repressed a gasp at the huge demon rising up on top of the hill which had once clearly been the location of an old mansion, but now looked more like a gateway into hell itself, with spires of rock rising up on either side and rupturing out of the earth, and pools of magma collected around the ground.

"Rakdos, the Defiler," Akroma spat, and Marik took solace in his angel's hatred of the Archdemon, as well as becoming more worried for his youngest as the angel only ever showed emotion when they were against a significantly powerful opponent. The demon itself was massive, a bit larger than the one he had fought against in the past (though size was not necessarily indicative of power, as he was sure that his youngest son would agree) and laughed again as it blasted a wave of hellfire at a figure on the other side of the abused courtyard.

Marik's heart leapt into his mouth as his anger rose when he saw his little boy, covered in scratches and cuts from his battle with the Archdemon raising a shield of sparkling glass alongside the Angel of the Black Sun, who spun her scythe in a circle and added to the power of the defence, and then the roiling undulation of flames washed over them. The king felt its heat from here, alongside the proximity of this Rakdos making his headache rise up with even greater intensity, becoming a spiking frenzy when he glanced at his son when the fire faded, the boy breathing heavily, his small chest hitching up and down, but otherwise unscathed by the magical attack and driving barbs of pain into his brain as Orzhova looked up at them, her serious expression curling into a mixture of a hostile snarl and a relieved exhalation of breath.

Marik was tempted to order Akroma to drop him onto the demon so that he could launch the attack from their, but noticed that his son had barely scratched the avatar of sin as well as knowing that such a reckless attack was more likely to get him killed within seconds if anything else, and that his damned foolish son needed him at his side if they were going to prevail against whatever in the forbidden name of the abyss that brat had – however inadvertently – caused the Summoning of, though as he scanned the plaza he saw no sign of Tradax, the Master of Rapture, which probably meant that Cai had at least succeeded in accomplishing something with his carelessness. At a nod from the king, Akroma let go of him, and he braced his armoured body for the landing as the ground rose up to meet him, trying to ignore the uncharacteristic thought that popped into his head about how much of an idiot he would look if he landed face first onto the hard stone, but he had executed the dramatic entrance many times before and was familiar with how to land it.

He smashed into the ground with a heavy impact, cracking the ground underneath his armoured bulk and landing only a couple of metres away from his youngest son, who's youthful face lit up surprise and sheer relief at having his father come to help him, despite the fact that it meant that Alexander would have been left alone (unless the older boy was coming to his little brother's aid to fight the greatest threat) and the reality that they were not on the greatest terms at the moment – although that would be put off until the end of the battle and Cai couldn't seriously say that he was anything less than grateful for his dad's entrance, as Akroma descended from the heavens next to him, her greatsword firmly pointed at the Lord of Riots, who grinned widely at the new entrances and laughed again, the thing that he seemed the most fond of doing, "Oh, has daddy King and big sister Akroma come to save you now, Caiellis and Orzhova? How sweet. Now I have an audience to show your painful and agonising deaths to!"

"Dad!" Cai shouted in mild happiness, although he knew that in no way he was out of any danger whatsoever, running to the man's side and holding his sword outstretched as well as the Archdemon guffawed loudly at its own joke, though it did so more because of the expressions on the faces of the two Lucernas and two First Sisterhood angels presently railed against it. Now this was getting entertaining. The man didn't turn around, as much as he wanted to, and one part of his mind told him that he should be checking his son's wounds and reassuring the boy that now that he was here, Caiellis was now safe(r than he had been before), but that was soon overwhelmed by his sheer anger at the boy that crushed the other part of his mind, the fatherly and parental part, underneath it at having been defied by the brat once again, despite all that he had done to try and prevent it and warn the child from repeating the actions every time he did it.

That, coupled with the headache that reached a crescendo of agony that blocked out all other thoughts and almost had him sprawling on the ground and curling up in a foetal ball as his head felt like someone was driving white hot daggers dripping with agonising venom into it from every angle, his pain flaring up in synchronisation with his anger at the boy for defying him at every single turn and baiting him to violent rage so that Caiellis could pretend that he owned the moral high ground and turned others – such as Guardian Tristram, who needed to be severely punished for his impertinence, and his eldest, Alexander – against him. One section of his psyche protested that he should be focussing on the demon, but one look at Rakdos showed that he was more than happy to watch his pain, until the demon faded from his sight and mind, accompanied by the two angels, until it was only him and Caiellis on the plaza, the boy babbling his name again and placing a slender palm on his shoulder that had pain exploding through Marik's skull, the vindictive reverberations exacerbated by the contact with the boy as he automatically swung round to try and get the boy away from him, who recoiled responding to the look of rage and hatred on his father's face with one of confused fear as the man staggered towards him.

Marik couldn't see anything; it was if some sort of red mist that blocked out everything other stimulus had descended, and felt like he wanted to throw up as he experienced a massively unpleasant and nauseating sensation of being sucked inwards, like a perverse version of the entrances to his personal Mind Realm that he partook in. A glimmer of light in the darkness of the tunnel he was falling through, like a maliciously twinkling star in the night sky of any place other than Lucael, gradually opened up, and Marik gasped at the sudden queasiness that rolled through him, mixed in with anger at what was happening to him, as he knew that he should be doing something to help his son against Rakdos, but he couldn't see anything and felt like he was being pulled away from the world as he tumbled through the seemingly endless vortex, before his eyes finally shut and he fell through the barrier between consciousness and the realm of dreams.

.*.*.*.

"Where … where am I?" he directed the question outwards, a general inquiry that was only answered by the echoing sound of his own voice as he sat up, rubbing his head, until anger spiked through him and he surged to his feet.

He needed to find a way out of this place so that he could go and help his son, and looked around him, Marik's tactical mind exploding into action as he analysed his surroundings for a way to escape, before realising that he was simply sat in his Mind Realm, a massive castle/cathedral that echoed the construction of the Lucerna Palace in Capitalia Lux but was indescribably vast, and each time he had spent days exploring it as a youth after passing Akroma's trial at the age of eleven (the same day Johnias passed his trial but after his brother had done it, as he had been spurred on by not wanting his brother to been seen as superior as him by their cold and judging father King Garius II) the vast corridors throughout it changed even if he took the exact same route, though Akroma would only meet him in the main hall, the placed that he was in now and where he entered his quiet Mind Realm usually.

However, the angel was not here, which was understandable, as they were supposed to be fighting against an Archdemon of great power and danger to the legions of Lucael, and his son would be in mortal danger if his father had simply slumped into unconsciousness. Marik tried to focus on leaving, which usually worked, but then found that there was a barrier on the mental exit of the Mind Realm, the thing that had been causing the headaches – evidently they were not just the product of an unfortunate illness that he had caught and that his body had not disposed of – blocking his re-entry to consciousness and reality. Marik began to be filled with rage as a snaking pool of viscous liquid leaked out of the corner of his vision, seeping out of the cracks in the granite walls of the main hall in Akroma's citadel and spilling across the floor towards him, rippling unnaturally to the sound of a malignant and unheard melody.

He automatically grasped at the space that his Lucerna relic greatsword would be located so that he could purge this intruder to his mind and return to fighting alongside his son, as if they boy got hurt while he was trapped in his own mind then he would never be able to forgive himself, before finding his fingers clenching over empty air, and his choler rose even more as the throbbing and sticky puddle of blackness began to take shape, rising up out of its shadowy depths. The king of Lucael then tried to focus his mana, to blast a shaft of holy incandescence at the invader into his sanctified Mind Realm, but nothing was coming out of his outstretched palm, nor did he have access to any mana in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to generate some or summon it – it was as if the reservoir of magical energy in his body had suddenly dried up completely, leaving him without the power of his mana.

Then, he heard a tutting sound which was strangely familiar and yet in the same instance not, and out of the pool of blackness the vague form of a figure appeared, with humanoid limbs but instead of hands and legs simply tendrils of darkness that rippled and throbbed, about the size of the king, and then three orbs of red that were pits of unrelenting despair and malice opened up on its head and a slit appeared underneath them, revealing rows of bleached teeth that gnashed together before speaking in a mocking tone, "Now now Mariky-boy, calm yourself. I'm not going to hurt you … not yet anyway." it added with a malicious wink of its third eye nestled between the other two.

"What have you done with my son?!" the king thundered, smashing his fist into the being's face with an explosion of tar like liquid that spattered over the room, before slowly dragging its way back to the horror and reforming its face again, as it smiled mockingly at the monarch of Lucael as he snarled angrily back and launched another attack. This time, his fist was blocked by a snaking tendril that possessed surprising strength, twisting Marik's hand down and away from it, but the king had been ready for such a response and kicked it in what would have passed for its abdomen. It splattered into multiple droplets but got back together a few metres away, laughing to itself and heightening the king's ire, saying to the man, "Aww come on, Mariky-boy, we could become real great friends if you would stop trying to kill me, ya know?"
Marik scowled again at the intruder's usage of the verbal slang that his twin brother had often used when talking to his brother or friends in an attempt to seem more popular (which worked, though Johnias had been extremely charismatic and charming – he had even got young Alexander using it at one point, though Marik knew that his eldest would have stopped when Johnias betrayed them), but knew that trying to kill the creature was proving to be fruitless, so instead snarled a, "What have you done to me, you monster?"

Its eyes opened wide in feigned shock, and it pouted, muttering sullenly, "Aww, so you don't remember me, Mariky-boy? But I thought I had made a great impression on you..."

"I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting," the king growled back, his body still full of adrenaline and his posture still ready for combat and to defend himself from any form of attack, entertaining the creature with his responses whilst he thought up ways to either kill it or break out of the hold it evidently had on his mind, and it smiled even wider, all pretended offence gone. It then clapped its two hand-tendrils together, which created an unpleasant wet slapping sound like two lumps of freshly carved meat at a butchery being smacked together, and said, excitedly, "Oh, I think we have. Here, let me show you."

The king watched with curiously veiled underneath his rage as the creature blinked was, and then pain exploded within his head as circles of expanding light pulsed painfully beneath the eyelids that he had involuntarily clamped shut. Then, the darkness behind his eyes faded, and Marik was presented by a dark expanse in front of him lit up by the wan illumination of dying golden flames as well as a more powerful and blinding luminescence that almost had him looking away. He was moving, channelling mana, and Marik soon realised that he was powerless to act, though his body was still doing fine. He saw Akroma, the Angel of Wrath, with her gargantuan blade shining with incandescence light and about to swing into a target in front of her, though he couldn't yet tell what it was.

Then he turned, though not because of his mental own orders, and glanced at the foe they were facing. Marik recognised the corrupted beast that the last vampire Aksua had become, her once beautiful and unnaturally alluring body pulsating with the horror running through her veins, and then Akroma's blade had slammed into her, exploding in a calamitous discharge of thunderous energy that shook the earth beneath them. He now realised why he couldn't move other than what the Marik that he was looking through the eyes of was doing – he was reliving one of his memories, and as such it couldn't be changed as he was merely being shown what he had experienced only a week ago.

The horror that Aksua had become exploded in the angel's finishing strike, Akroma's Vengeance, every trace of her disintegrated by the holy light of the angel – or every trace apart from one. Marik watched on with horror, though he still felt the mixture of pride and awe that he had felt on that fateful evening that had almost lead to the death of Alexander and had been the catalyst for his and Caiellis's arguments, as a single droplet of oily black liquid splashed out from not-Aksua and landed, splattering on his cheek. He unintentionally brushed it away, not noticing it and far more concerned for his eldest son and his angel's righteous declaration after the Vengeance, and then with a strange feeling of detachment Marik was ripped out of the past him and observed the scene from another point of view. The black droplet, instead of being brushed off of his face, curled round his finger and deposited itself back on his cheek, too small to be noticed, and flowed into his short (and whitening) blonde hair and then into his ear, where it would reside next to his brain like a canker at the heart of his being.

Then, Marik returned back to the marble cathedral fortress inside of his mind, with the horror – the last vestiges of the thing that had possessed and been Summoned by Aksua – grinned at his horrified expression, purring malevolently, "Don't look so alarmed, Mariky-boy, I've been a peaceful and helpful passenger, as I'm sure your little boy would agree."

Marik's eyes opened wide – this, this angel-forsaken-son-of-a-bitch, had been the one responsible for his headaches, and his violent rages and urge to hurt his youngest son, and he snarled at the horror, who tutted once again, like he was talking to a petulant and stubborn child, "While I may have caused your headaches, you can't blame me for the anger you showed to precious little baby Caiellis. I merely removed the barriers of control that were stopping the entertainment from happening. Your rage – your desire to hurt your youngest son – was entirely your own. I just let it free. And it was magnificent, if I do say so myself-"

"You bastard!" Marik shouted, releasing all of the anger that he had for Caiellis and himself at the horror in front of him, and while normally that would have been represented with mana fists were going to have to do the job on this occasion, and though he had already established the futility of the act he flung himself at the creature, needing to release his rage for the injustices inflicted upon him and his son – though most of his anger was from the latter – and the being shook its head sadly, moving with a preternatural agility and bending its body to dodge the king's strikes, Marik's kicks and punches meeting empty air whenever he threw them, so instead he became full of defeat and self-loathing, slumping resignedly to the hard floor, and his thoughts were full of accusations aimed at himself.

What … what have you done? You knew that Caiellis didn't deserve any violence! You knew! You knew that you were supposed to be the adult in the equation, the one supposed to end arguments first, the one supposed to know what they are doing, but you've certainly failed to deliver with that. From making him hate and cut himself, to making him seem like his life was worthless enough so that he found it acceptable to throw it away in an attempt to complete Orzhova's trial, to pinning him down on his bed and strangling him! What sort of father does that to their children?! The answer was quick to come. A failure of one.

"Oh, so you don't think that every parent has a right to discipline their child?" the horror inquired, its voice full of an almost-genuine curiosity that made it sound like a young child and unfamiliar with the world, before it turned darker and more malicious, "Because I distinctly remember you thinking that Caiellis's safety and obedience came before anything else, and that the only way you would shut him up was to hit him, and that "desperate times call for desperate measures." And I'm surprised that you haven't given into the temptation to forcibly silence him before, because boy does that brat whine like a dog!"

"Shut the fuck up," the king growled, full of enough rage to make even the horror pause, before it returned to taunting the man who held his head in his hands, thinking about what he had made his youngest son go through by wrapping them around his throat, though he had never wanted to do that, just hit him and shut him, "Aww, Mariky-boy, don't blame yourself. I wouldn't in your situation. And while hitting him would have accomplished a similar thing, the strangulation was a little touch added by yours truly on the orders of your very own big brother."
"Johnias," Marik breathed, his voice full of malice, anger and hatred at the man that had ripped his and his family's lives apart with his wanton lust for power and insatiable desire to rule matched only of his envy of Marik's success and ascension to the throne and how much it had hurt to know that his slightly older brother had never cared about him, and had been prepared to – no, wanted to – kill his young sons so that there would be no one to ascend to the throne apart from him, as when fighting his brother Prince Johnias had revealed that one of his plans had been to attain near immortality through demonic contracts and simply wait until Marik had died after killing his two sons so that the rest of Lucael would only have one member of the Lucerna line left. However, his brother's impatience and arrogance had been his downfall, as well as the fact that while he had threatened such tactics he was too narcissistic to ever do so and wanted the love of the people instead of just their resigned acceptance to his ascension – something that he had possessed, but unlike before the death of their father Marik was liked more by the people because of his position as king and his intelligence and success in the role.

He wouldn't put it past Johnias at all to want to turn his youngest son against him, as while Alexander wouldn't be swayed as easily because of his greater familiarity with Marik and the fact that his eldest had realised that he loved him much more than Johnias did despite the latter never disciplining (though Marik had never had to sanction Caiellis before the civil war) him and the fact that his beloved uncle showered him with gifts, whereas at the age of four his youngest son might not have understood it as well as his big brother. Furthermore, Caiellis had access to Black mana that had been with him from birth (and, according to Orzhova, hadn't been created by her) whereas Johnias had been forced to trade away his powerful White to attain it, so his little boy could be a perfect second in command for his traitorous brother should Caiellis ever turn to him – and though he doubted that, he had almost throttled his youngest son on his bed in a fit of rage, which could easily turn a child against their parent. Nonetheless, while he hadn't seen it in action, he knew how much Caiellis (and Alexander) rightly hated Johnias due to how he spoke of him and the utter detestation present when he uttered the man's name.

"My master's master is also my master," the horror babbled, grinning as Marik when he pulled himself out of his hands and glared back at it, deciding that he needed to take control of the situation now to firstly stop anything from happening that could push Caiellis away from him and secondly help the boy against the Archdemon Rakdos – though hopefully Akroma was aiding her sister and his son in combat whilst he was in an unconscious state, so to that end he questioned, "If you are talking to me within my mind, then what is happening to my physical body?"

The horror's grin widened, and Marik had the distinct impression that something awful was occurring while he was stuck inside of his mind, which made him resolve to concentrate extremely hard on breaking out, shutting his eyes and relaxing his breaths and focussing to the determination within himself to do his duty as both a father of two sons and a king of a massive nation to break out of his mind and continue fighting against Rakdos to help save lives and protect his thirteen year old son, but there was nothing he seemed to be able to do. He refused to let defeat and despair gnaw away at him from the inside, as well as desperation at knowing the precarious situation that his sons and his army was in – not one thought of Marik's was directed to the fact that the likely possibility for what was going in with him was that he was unconscious, and easy prey for an Archdemon, and so was in grave danger – but his concentration was disrupted when the horror, evidently bored with the lack of conversation, stroked his face with a slimy and sticky tendril that had him automatically opening his eyes and recoiling from it as it smiled at him, "All will be revealed soon, Mariky-boy. But right now, you should stop trying to break out. I want to talk to you, and the longer you delay that then the longer it will take for you to be freed."

"What are you planning, foul creature?" the king demanded, and the horror smiled at him in an extremely infuriating manner, clearly enjoying having control of the encounter despite the fact that they were in Marik's mind, and replied sibilantly, "As I said: all will be revealed soon. But first, shall we take a look at your relationship with young Caiellis?"

Apparently his silence served as conformation of that as he again tried to rail against his mental restriction, knowing that he needed to break out and escape from the trap of his own mind before something irrevocable happened in the world of the awake, as he felt more tugging on the back of his psyche, indicating that he would be thrust into another flashback like the one he had experienced further but dragged fully into it, unable to feel or think any differently to how he had done in his past, so he resisted it, aware that there was even less chance of him retreating back to consciousness with two mental areas to force his way free of, and the horror broke into his thoughts again, "Tsk tsk, Mariky-boy. I already told you that there is no chance of escaping until I have finished with you. The more you resist the longer it will take. Stop fighting against it."

Marik sighed loudly and punched the horror again, though it splattered everywhere and quickly formed back into its original form, looking at him with exaggerated offence out its three glistening eyes, but knew that there was no benefit to continuing to try and smash his way out of the barriers placed upon his mind. While he had no reason to trust this servant of Johnias's words, he had no reason not to either and it was the only course of action he was able to take. Marik stopped fighting back, and let his memories swallow him.

.*.*.*.

Marik smiled lovingly at his little boy – his eldest, boy that would need getting used to – as they walked out of the small classroom of other infants that were the progeny of other noble families in Capitalia Lux and schooled in the palace nursery by the former Hierarch Tybalt Litria that had once been a mentor to the twenty seven year old king himself, the boy clutching his father's much larger hand tightly and looking up at him with his adorable blue eyes that rested underneath a spiky blonde fringe that needed cutting, but Emili had always liked Alexander having longish hair and didn't want it as short as Marik's.

The boy was chattering excitedly about his day at school with his friends, and while Marik should have been listening he couldn't help but think about the events of the day that he knew would change all his family's lives – for the better. Alexander was possessed of the boundless energy of a young boy, and bounced along at his father's side as they walked towards where Marik had just come from, the birthplace of his youngest son.

After Emili had told him on that night less than eight months ago that the results of a test that she had gone to see the Ordo Medella doctors about why her mana wasn't generating came back to her and confirmed that there was another mana presence – another life – growing inside of her womb, the overjoyed couple had often talked about how best to introduce their young son to the fact that he wouldn't be the youngest anymore, that there would be another, younger member to their small family, and that he would be a big brother and what such a thing would entail. They had kept it relatively quiet until it had been noticeable that his mummy was getting larger, but Emili and Marik had eventually decided that the best way to go about it would be to pretend that nothing would change and to simply make sure that Alexander knew that his parents would always love him no matter what.

Marik didn't actually remember the exact circumstances in which new Caiellis had been conceived, but it had been on the night of Emili's twenty seventh birthday and suffice to say Alexander had been sent to have a sleepover at Marik's friend Carlis's house where he could play with the twins and his parents did something that would not have been suitable for a four year old, after rather copious amounts of alcohol had been ingested (and Marik hadn't touched the stuff since, hating the fact that there was a section of his life that he couldn't remember). The couple had never overtly planned to have another child, as Alexander was more than enough for them, but it hadn't made them any less ecstatic when they found out that they were having another child and that Alexander would be getting a younger sibling.

They hadn't said anything about the new baby until seven months into the pregnancy, when Alexander had returned from his school day and innocently inquired why his mummy was getting such a big belly (though it had been noticeably smaller than when she had been carrying Marik's little boy at that stage), which had led to Marik commenting that if he had said the same thing then he would have been sleeping outside of the palace for a month, but with Alexander she found it cute. The king fondly remembered his wife of five years' reply.

"Alex is an innocent little boy," Emili had replied, smiling all the while and affectionately ruffling her relatively confused son's hair, who protested that he was a big boy, not a little one, "But you are my husband Marik, and an adult, though I do doubt that sometimes. You have to support me all the way. Even if I look like an oxen, you have to lie to me and say that I'm attractive." she added with a wink.

"An oxen? No, Emili, you're my beautiful wife, as beautiful as ever in fact!" Marik quickly protested, hoping that Emili wasn't thinking negatively about her appearance because of the fact that she was going through a pregnancy, but his wife widened her grin and responded, "And you, Marik, you are a very quick learner!"

Then they had explained to Alexander what was going on, that there would soon be another member to their family to join him on the side of the youngsters (although Emili still insisted that she was young, and at twenty seven that was completely true), but that just because someone else would be taking up the attention it didn't mean that they loved him any less. Neither Marik nor Emili had younger siblings, so neither really knew how to explain what it would be like for their first born, who Marik was sure still hadn't really understood what was happening to their mother. Nevertheless, they kept his life the same even as they prepared for Caiellis or Thaliecia to enter their family, so Alexander had continued with his education with the other children, which they had planned to happen even at the allotted date for their baby's birth.

However, evidently extremely eager for life and bored inside of his mother's womb, Caiellis had decided (although he was wording it in this way, in no way did Marik blame his youngest for the premature birth) that he wanted out, which meant that a month before he was supposed to have been born he started to kick and come out, which meant that instead of the family having a nice tea together Emili had been rushed to the private Ordo Medella unit of the Lucerna Palace that had been the location of Alexander's sunny birth as well with Alexander becoming extremely panicked and scared for his mum. Marik had made sure to reassure him, though Alexander hadn't really believed him due to not being able to see his mum as there was barely enough space in the hectic hospital room for a controlled and contrite adult, let alone the agitated and frightened little boy that Alexander would become seeing his mother in the amount of pain that she had been in over the course of almost twenty two hours.

That was why Marik had left his wife after only having a relatively brief glimpse of his new baby boy before he was rushed inside of an incubation tank that would help to preserve and strengthen his tenuous hold upon life to go and fetch their four year old son, and while Alexander was good at picking up that things were wrong the boy luckily hadn't yet inquired or noticed the stress lines on Marik's forehead that had developed from watching his wife screaming in pain for hours on end, or the horror in his eyes from seeing the woman he loved having her stomach cut open in a caesarean section, or finally his worry, both for his stricken but delighted wife and his fragile and incredibly thin newborn son that undoubtedly would have died within seconds of the birth without the blood of the royal family running through his young veins.

He had gone to fetch Alexander from his lessons, as while it would have been easy enough to send a guard to do it and he didn't want to leave his wife or Caiellis unless something happened, Emili had wanted him to go and tell the news to Alexander and bring him into the surgery, knowing that no one else would be able to tell the boy like he could about what had happened and that he had a new little brother, and that sending a guard would make Alexander scared and worried, even if he knew most of the Lucerna praetorians and adored them.

"Daddy? Where are we going?" the voice of his beloved eldest son pierced into his thoughts, and Marik relaxed his grip on the boy's small and childishly chubby hand because his consternation had led to him accidentally increasing the force of his grip on his little boy, who to his credit hadn't complained, though Marik would never hurt his son – either of his sons -, intentionally or not. The boy was still holding the pictures that he had been drawing with Leodred and Elizabex, his best friends, in the lesson, childish scrawls that Marik would have immediately disliked if they hadn't belonged to his own son, and as such thought that they were amazing. The blonde boy was looking up at him, his wide blue eyes reflecting his curiosity, and Marik increased his pace, not wanting to spend any more time away from Emili and Caiellis than possible.

"Do you remember when me and your mum told you about the little brother or sister you were going to have?" Marik asked back, and the boy narrowed his eyes for a moment in an utterly adorable expression of deep thought that Emili had pulled before before nodding, though it wasn't a particularly happy nod – the king assumed his son was still apprehensive about the thought of a little brother, and still worried about his mother being urgently rushed off and taken from his side. Marik praised, "Well done, Alexander. Now, buddy, your mother has just given birth to him. You have a little brother now."

Marik raised his eyebrows from where he was looking down at his son and focussing on the walk simultaneously, returning the respectful and happy nods that the servants sent him, as the news of the birth of another exalted Lucerna had spread like wildfire and the whole kingdom would soon be overjoyed, though Marik knew that they could never match his and Emili's happiness. Alexander had frowned, though he seemed reticent to share his thoughts so Marik prompted with a, "Is there something wrong, little guy?"

"I don't want a little brother," the young boy replied sullenly, though the monarch sensed that his unhappiness was derived from his own and the fact that he knew that everyone else was really happy about it and thought that he should be himself. Marik narrowed his eyes himself and inquired, "Why not, Alexander?"

The boy seemed unusually nervous to answer, so to encourage him Marik patted his son on the shoulder with a large hand gently, letting go of his son's hand to do so, though Alexander had long since mastered tha art of walking, and the boy murmured, "Eliza says that little brothers are lame and they smell. Please can we have a puppy instead?"

Marik rolled his eyes at that – having a puppy had been Alexander's most recent obsession, in spite of the amount of times he had been informed of his mother's allergy of the hair of canines and the fact that Marik personally didn't like dogs much either, and quickly told the boy, "Well that isn't true at all. I promise that Caiellis isn't lame, champ. And trust me when I say that having a little brother is going to be much better than having a puppy. So no, we can't have a puppy, and you know that your mother is allergic to them."

"Aww … Please?" the boy pleaded for the umpteenth time after being told that he couldn't have one, prompting Marik to think that maybe they needed to be harsher on the boy when informing him what was what, though he knew that Emili would never agree with him on that and Alexander was only four years old and would grow out of it. Nevertheless, the king still inflected his tone with a tinge of sternness to reaffirm that he was the adult in the conversation when he uttered, "No, Alexander, for the last time you are not having a puppy. Got it, little man?"

The boy just kept walking, but his face fell and his shoulders slumped in defeat, so to get an answer out of him Marik said his name before Alexander replied quickly with a drawn out and sad: "Yes, daddy. I'm not having a puppy." Marik smiled down at him as they passed another few servants, knowing that his excitable eldest wouldn't be able to resist breaking his sulking silence for long, confirmed by, "I drew some pictures of Sancturia creatures today, daddy. Do you think that Caiellis will like them?"

Marik resisted the urge to snort with laughter at the pure innocence in his son's expression, his earlier misgivings about having a little brother evidently pushed aside, for now anyway, and instead of responding with an: "He's only just been born, so won't have developed the necessary cognitive functions to like or dislike things such as illustrations, let alone the ability to convey that information," he replied to his little boy with, "You can ask him yourself when we go to meet him and your mother, ok?"

"Cool!" his son responded excitedly, picking up his pace to match his sudden burst of youthful enthusiasm and forcing Marik to increase his own to match it, striding close behind his son in case he fell over or took a tumble, and quickly overtook him before they reached the entrance to the surgery, wanting to prepare his eldest for what he would encounter within. He knelt down to his son's height and placed his hands on his small but healthy shoulders, gently tilting the boy's face away from looking into the sterilised and not entirely pleasant room that had been the site of two of the most paradoxically horrible yet delightful and undoubtedly best experiences of his life (apart from his marriage to Emili Noctis), and looked deep into the warm blue eyes that Alexander had inherited from his father.

"Alexander. Before we go in there and you can meet your little brother Caiellis for the first time, I want to speak to you, and I want your attention, ok buddy?" Marik asked, and the four year old looked at him with a child's seriousness, happy to obey his father's commands and not wanting his daddy to get more sad, as the man looked remarkably more drained than Alex had ever seen him before, even when he had left him alone with the swords and Alex had just wanted to play with them and cut his hand on the blade and mummy had slapped him for it, though Alex couldn't understand why she had done that. He stopped resisting his father's gentle but firm prevention of his fidgeting, and looked back at his daddy, who smiled lovingly at him again.

"I want you to know that, no matter that you have a little baby brother, me and your mum will always love you more than anything else in the world (apart from Caiellis, but that didn't need adding and Marik could tell that Alexander understood that) and that we will never, ever ignore you, or pay less attention to you than your little brother. You are more precious to us than words can describe, and we love you, Alexander," Marik let all of his emotion out in those heartfelt words, and, ensuring that it was more personal and knowing how much more powerful it was, added, "I love you, my son."

"I love you too, daddy. And I love mummy as well," the boy replied resolutely, and Marik pulled him into a tight hug and kissed him on his forehead, almost wanting to hold the moment forever but knowing that he had two other family members that would make it even better. The boy squealed loudly, which made Marik cock an amused eyebrow at his eldest son's outrage at being kissed, wondering if he did it any different to Emili and therefore why it was received differently by Alexander, but he knew his wife was softer than him and much better with children than he was – though Marik was improving.

"Do you want to go and see Caiellis and your mum?" Marik then asked him, gently putting him down on the floor and turning towards the doorway into the surgery and pushing it open before there was a response. Then he paused, lingering in the entrance as the aged Ordo Medella nurse that had helped to deliver both of his sons stepped out of the surgery to give the family privacy and smiled at the king and his son, and glanced back at Alexander, who murmured, "Yeah."

The king kindly took hold of his son's chubby and warm hand and gently pulled him in front of him, encouragingly pushing him forward when he shot an uncharacteristically nervous and anxious glance back at his dad, though Marik could see why his son would be apprehensive about entering. The boy trotted forward, his father right behind him to provide emotional support if necessary, glad that the macabre implements that had been utilised to slice open his wife had been cleaned and removed before he returned, otherwise Alexander might have felt sick and been put off even more than he seemed to be. Every so often, there was a quiet beep, which reassured the occupants of the room that the one in the incubation unit was still alive, and when Alexander stopped moving again Marik picked him up in his muscular arms and carried him over to the section of the room at the opposite end and near to the window that, contrasting with the sunlight of his blonde son's birth, was as midnight black as usual.

Emili sat up in her hospital bed, still looking pale but remarkably more healthy than alive than before, although both husband and wife still had large bags underneath their eyes after the two days of the childbirth, and she smiled affectionately at her eldest son, but otherwise wanted him to meet his new brother instead of talking to her – that could wait. The king smiled back at the queen and deposited his son next to the bed with the quietly thrumming glass tank to the right of it, a shudder going through him at the unwanted thought of how tenuous his baby boy's hold on life was, and instead of grasping onto Alexander's outstretched hand he said, "There he is, buddy, that's Caiellis."

At a sudden cough from Emili, Marik cursed himself and brought over a small stool for his son to stand on, as otherwise he wasn't tall enough to peer inside of the incubator that held his little brother and filled his fragile body with White mana that would ensure that he stayed alive as well as fed nutrients to him through a tube that luckily for Alexander couldn't be seen at the moment, and the youngster gasped in surprise mixed with amazement, "Daddy! He's so little!"

"Yeah," Marik replied with a soft rumble of laughter, "He is." He looked down at his youngest son, the newest member of his perfect family, who was sleeping quietly, his yellowy red face full of innocence and purity and wrapped up in a fluffy white blanket, and other than his tiny size and thinness no one would have known the amount of stress he had put his parents through in his tumultuous birth.

A small wisp of blonde hair adorned the baby's head, and Marik smiled widely, unable to stop a grin of joy plastering itself onto his features at the sight of his new son, whispering, "Hello, Caiellis. I'm your dad." to the glass, wishing that he could pick up his son and hold him like he had done with Alexander after his birth, but the fact that Caiellis had been born one month early – and would have been frail and small even if he had been born a month later - meant that any contact with the boy could permanently damage his brittle bones. Only Emili and the Ordo Medella Surgeon-General (as delivering the child of a Lucerna was an extremely important duty only undertaken by the most professional operatives) that had taken the baby to the mana incubator had touched his son.

Alexander didn't copy his father, feeling that there was no point in talking to the boy when he was asleep, and instead continued to stare at his small brother, eventually asking, "But … why is he so little, mummy and daddy?"

Marik suppressed a saddened sigh and shared a glance with his bed-ridden wife. He should have known that his observant little prince would pick up on it in spite of the blanket his truly little brother, as Alexander had seen other babies before from other noble families that the Lucerna family had visited to commemorate the other births, and was bound to notice that his little brother wasn't just little. Try tiny...

At four years old, Alex didn't understand medical terminology such as "premature" and "jaundice", and phototherapy treatment meant nothing to his young mind, but he already felt a deep rooted sense of something that he couldn't describe rising up from within him, like he instinctively wanted to keep this tiny person that he had never seen before safe.

"How is my little monster doing?" Emili's tired, strained but still loving and beautiful voice broke the painful silence that had descended upon the small family, looking at Alexander with her exhausted but still bright green eyes and reaching out a hand towards him, directing her son's attention away from the slight and fragile form of his infant sibling, and the boy broke of his concerned gaze before jumping off the stool and running to his mother's side, grasping hold of her hand tightly as she reached down and lifted him onto the bed, Marik rushing to their side before he could stop himself as his wife glanced at him, her eyes saying: "While I may be bed-ridden and I have just gone through an extremely painful childbirth, I can still pick up my son and hug him." The king smiled back at her but remained close in case his wife hurt himself, knowing how she hated to feel useless and therefore was more stubborn in doing things that she technically shouldn't.

Alex shared a hug with his mum as she planted a kiss on his head, Marik almost snorting amusedly when instead of reacting with disgust Alexander snuggled up closer to the monarch's wife, as she smiled and said, "You are getting bigger every day, Alex. I'm sure that you'll soon be as big and strong as daddy. You'll be a great big brother, I'm certain of it."

Marik had never quite got used to referring to Emili as "mummy" in a way that defied the normal application of grammar (as Emili wasn't his own mother), but his love had thrown herself into the other way round of it, and Alexander smiled at her before his face became full of concern and worry, as if suddenly noticing how pale, weary and thin his mother had become since he had last seen her, and he asked, "Mummy? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Alex," Emili assured the boy, though Marik knew that she wasn't and had just had her stomach cut open and subsequently stitched up, and while she was ignoring it Alexander's position would have been hurting her, so, pretending not to notice the burning glare the queen directed in his direction, Marik picked up his eldest and easily held him in his arms instead, as his wife continued to try and reassure her son, who looked about ready to burst into tears, "Giving birth is a painful experience, so be thankful that you will never have to do it."

"Did Caiellis hurt you?" Alexander then questioned protectively, shooting a vaguely hostile glance over at the sleeping form of his new little brother, while Marik and Emili shared and alarmed meeting of eyes and the latter said, "No, not on purpose, it's just what happens when a mum gives birth to a child. It was the same with you."

Although Marik knew that his wife was trying to simplify it for his little boy so that the solicitous youngster wouldn't immediately dislike his little brother before seeing him awake, in no way was the agony that Caiellis had inadvertently put his mother through comparable to the strain she had undergone when giving birth to his eldest son. But anyway, it wasn't Caiellis's fault in any way for what happened, as he was only a baby. Alexander looked up at his mother, his youthful eyes doleful and brimming with tears as he said, "I never meant to hurt you, mummy..."

Marik couldn't help but find that immensely sweet, so brought all three of them into a hug when Emili insisted, "No, you didn't hurt me Alex. It is just what happens when a woman gives birth. Neither you nor Caiellis ever meant for me to go through pain, and while I don't look as big and strong as daddy I am, and any pain that I go through in the name of my sons and who I love is worth it." The boy nodded into his father's shoulder, before Emili turned to smile at Marik and admitted, "Though I do think that is enough giving birth for one lifetime."

The man grinned back and kissed his wife on the forehead, so proud of this beautiful woman that had gone through so much to give him love and children, turning back round to look at the newest member of his family again and commenting, "It seems like we are going to have another one looking like me, what with Caiellis's blonde hair-"

"No," Emili denied vehemently, vaguely shocking her husband at the force of the declaration, "I had blonde hair like that when I was a baby as well, and I can tell that Caiellis will have brown hair and green eyes. Trust me on that."

"Have you seen his eyes?" Marik asked, and when his wife shook his head he couldn't resist chuckling at the fact that Emili had spontaneously decided that her second son would look like her instead of his father, brother and only uncle. His wife glared at him, pouting when he inquired, "So how do you know that Caiellis will look like you then?"

She stuck out her tongue at Marik when Alexander's gaze strayed back to his sleeping little brother, returning her expression to a pleasant smile when he looked back at his mother, "He has my last name as his middle name, so he should. I'll prove it to you. Come on, Caiellis. It's time for you to wake up and meet your daddy and big brother."

The king shot her a weird glance, and then turned back to his youngest son when his eldest gasped in surprise, grinning in delight a second afterwards when Caiellis's eyelids opened and his blinked at the light around him and cascading over his form, glancing around the room with wide and glistening emerald orbs that looked exactly like Emili's, prompting his mother to smile victoriously at Marik, who had fallen silent, stumped by the way Emili's voice had called their youngest son from his sleep. He turned to his wife, as Alexander shot to the stool, clambering onto it so that he could look more closely at his little brother now that he was awake, a question in his piercing blue eyes, and the woman simply blew him a kiss and smiled back, tapping her nose, though Marik knew that she hadn't used any mana – as he hadn't sensed it and there was no way she would have been able to access it – to rouse Caiellis from his slumber.

Caiellis sat up in his blankets, moving slowly as he got used to this new world around him, so different to the one that he had lived in before. He turned his head, scanning the room with his new eyes for the one that had called him, as when he had ascertained what they were he could analyse the rest of the room – or that was how it looked to Marik anyway, who had no idea what – if anything – was going on in his baby boy's new mind. He stared at the woman who had given birth to him for a few seconds as Emili smiled and winked at him, almost bursting into tears because of her sheer happiness that had only been matched by the birth of her eldest.

Marik then found himself the recipient of his youngest son's gaze, looking into those wide green eyes that seemed full of a wisdom and intellect that someone new to this world should not possess, so similar to his wife's dazzling orbs, and the king gave his tiny son a small wave and a welcoming smile. The gaze of Caiellis seemed to promise so much – that they would have so many good times in the future. It promised the love and adoration of a son to a father, of times spent in each other's company, of times of hardship and strife when they would argue as he grew up or he would squabble with his big brother, but most of all it made Marik think of how much he loved both of his sons, and the fantastic future all four of them would have together – the perfect family. Then the moment passed, and Caiellis looked away from him, his youngest son soaking up all of this new experience, and Marik made a silent promise to the boy that he would protect the fragile child from the dangers of the world. He was indescribably glad that his baby boy had survived his turbulent and bloody entrance into the world.

Alex grinned when his little brother then stared at him, pressing his face into the glass despite his father's insistence not to (which was quickly silenced by Emili's brushing off of his concerns) and observing the occupant of the incubator, wishing that he could hold and touch Caiellis and not understanding why he couldn't, though he knew that it had something to do with why he was so small. Before he could introduce himself to the baby as his big brother, a soft gurgling took him by surprise, and he smiled wide in delight, exclaiming, "Wow! He just laughed at me!"

I'm pretty sure that was just wind, Marik thought, but kept that to himself and smile parentally at his two sons' first meeting, when Emili interjected, "That's because he loves his big brother already, Alex, and is just saying hello."

"Really?" Alex asked, his eyes opening up to at least twice their original size and shooting a glance back at his mother and father, and Marik stroked Emili's shoulder lovingly. His wife was amazing at being a mother, and was excellent at adding things that the colder Marik would never have thought of that made Alexander so much happier – and would make Caiellis happier, he was sure of it. She was the perfect parent and wife, and much more than he deserved. Four year old Alexander was overwhelmed. He giggled back at his little brother, turning his eyes back to the tiny person behind the glass of the mana-charged neonatal support unit. The baby's eyes were wide open and fixed on Alexander, who asked, his young voice full of wonder, "How does he know who I am?"

"Because, just like you, Caiellis is an intelligent boy," Emili replied, adamantly, as if challenging anything like Caiellis's premature birth to say otherwise, though that wasn't picked up on by Alexander, who continued to stare at his little brother, pressing his hand against the glass as well as he leaned on it. Marik smothered a grin when his little boy began to introduce himself as well as the rest of his family, to Caiellis, who simply absorbed all of the information as his brother began to talk about where they were living and what the names of different places were called and what the year and the month and the day was. He then began to chatter about his day at the school, presenting the pictures he had drawn to his little brother, who looked at each one before turning back to Alexander in a way that had the older boy instantly endeared.

"They are so perfect," Emili suddenly uttered, and Marik turned around to her and nodded his agreement to his weary wife, who ideally needed to be sleeping but Marik knew that should he suggest such a thing he would be met with fierce defiance. He entwined his large hand with her slender palm, brushing their ornate but not ostentatious (like some of the options) silver wedding rings together as he squeezed it comfortingly as his wife continued, "They are so perfect. Our perfect sons."

Marik turned from looking at the two boys to his wife, who had begun to be wracked with sobs, though she tried to keep them quiet as to not alert Alexander, and he leaned in closer to her in an attempt to comfort her. She had started to cry, tears of happiness mixed in with sorrow at the possibility of anything happening to their family, and Marik held her shoulders, murmuring soothing words as she trembled, breathing, "We made them, Marik. Alexander and Caiellis. They are more than I ever could have asked for."

The king was completely ready to go and fetch an Ordo Medella operative (as one would not be far from the room in case something went wrong) as his wife almost began to hyperventilate, before she brought her breathing back under control as he soothed her. They looked into each other's eyes, and Marik couldn't help but think that his wife looked more beautiful than ever. This woman had given him not one, but two perfect sons, and the king's heart ached to think that without his late father's idea to give advisers to his sons and Emili's tutelage underneath Hierarch Martha of Scientia Mos, he would have never have met her. Marik leaned in closer and she reciprocated the gesture, their lips just about to meet...

"Daddy? Daddy! DaddydaddydaddydaddydaddyDADDYDADDYDADDYDADDY!" Alexander's voice got progressively louder and more high pitched the longer his father took to respond, and Emili winked at the furious Marik just before the kiss could begin and motioned her head in the direction of their children. The man turned around in annoyance, in the right mind to reprimand his son for not being more patient, but his anger couldn't remain for much longer when he was presented with an adorable sight.

Caiellis, having obviously mimicked his brother's movements, had sat up in his tank and crawled to the glass that separated him from Alexander, and his tiny and fragile hand was pressed to the transparent material, meeting his big brother's hand. Alexander looked thrilled, and Marik smiled at the sight of the two bonding despite the fact that the youngest of the two had only been born less than an hour earlier, as Emili murmured, "Aww."

"Daddy, look! He's saying hello to me!" the older boy exclaimed loudly and proudly, as if happy that his little brother was extending a greeting – in his own opinion, anyway, as it was more likely that Caiellis was simply copying his actions and didn't understand the significance of what he was doing, nor why the recipient of the gesture seemed delighted by it, and Marik moved over from Emili to place a hand on his son's shoulder and press his face to the glass as well, gazing at his youngest son who stared back before returning his gaze to Alexander, who was giggling happily and smiling warmly at his little brother, studying the helpless and much smaller boy with growing affection, if not yet instant love, though the king was sure that would come when the two were able to interact better. "So he is. Hello, Caiellis."

"What's his name?" Alexander asked, elaborating quickly at the look of confusion that Marik sent him, "Full name, I mean. I'm called Alexander Ensis Lucerna," he pronounced proudly, "But what is his?"

The king smiled again, an expression that he couldn't get off his face because of how happy he was, and glanced over at his wife, silently asking for conformation on who was going to say it, before the woman nodded at him and blew another kiss, happy for him to do it. Marik wasn't in the mood for explaining the intricacies of Lucerna naming tradition to his four year old son, who might not understand anyway, so instead replied, "Ensis is my middle name, which is why you inherited it. But your little brother instead got your mother's last name before she married me – her maiden name. He's called Caiellis Noctis Lucerna."

"Caiellis … Noctis … Lucerna," Alexander repeated, testing the words, the name, as if it was the most important thing in the world – and to be fair, to the occupants of the surgery, it was – and letting them spill across his tongue. Marik loved the name, and while Emili hadn't exactly approved of his choices of first names for son or daughter she couldn't deny that Caiellis suited the baby in front of them, who was forever a part of their family which already had an infant sized hole ready for him. Alexander then sniffed proudly in consideration, the only way a four year old filled with big brother importance could. "Yeah. That fits him. Kind of... It's a bit long though."

"That's why you only use his first name. Just call him Caiellis," Marik told his oldest son, who looked back up at him before automatically being drawn back to the vulnerable infant in their midst, knowing from the core of his being that he would have to make sure that his new little brother was safe in the world, and muttered, "It's still too long though."

Marik resisted the urge to retort with something sarcastic, not wanting to spoil the mood of innocence and happiness associated with new life, so instead ignored Emili's muffled snort of triumph and replied, "What would you suggest then, Alexander?"

His eldest son was brewing up something, and he knew that in the way the kid gently chewed his lower lip just like his mother, tilted his head slightly and moved his hand to accommodate the movement, though Caiellis made sure that his fingers followed his older brother's, and narrowed his youthful eyes. "Cai." he stated simply, and Marik wondered what had taken him so long to come up with that, and instantly didn't like the nickname – though then again he had never called his eldest "Alex", feeling like the whole of his son's name should be celebrated, whereas Emili loved doing it and seemed to do it with a greater frequency after he specifically asked her not to. The blonde nodded, tentatively at first, but much eagerly the second time, affirming, "He's Cai."

Caiellis – or "Cai" as he had newly been dubbed by his big brother – rubbed his eyes with a small hand, and broke off the contact with the glass, sending a sleepy glance at each of his family members one last time, before slowly closing his eyes and slumping his shoulders, curling up into a foetal ball within the comfortable blankets and appearing blissfully unaware how close he had got to death before he was saved by the commendable efforts of the Ordo Medella doctors that Marik hadn't yet had the chance to truly thank, with his new family silently watching him and each thinking about what their future with him could entail.

"You never told me why he is so small," Alexander's youthful voice broke the companionable quiet that had swallowed the room, punctuated only by the gentle humming of the mana incubator that made sure that Caiellis would stay alive, and Marik couldn't help but be incredibly proud of his oldest boy's compassion – not just because he was so concerned about his little brother, but because he had waited until the younger baby was asleep until he asked the question, suggesting that he didn't want Caiellis to hear about his condition and wanted to protect the boy from being worried himself, though there was no way that Caiellis would understand at his age. Nor would Alexander himself, not really anyway, and Marik pulled his eldest son back against his chest in a deep, loving hug of solidarity and reassurance, explaining, "He was born too soon, buddy, but he's going to be ok."

Alexander wiped the single tear that had appeared in his eye away, not wanting to look like a baby in front of his father, then stared up at the man, his eyes filled with a mysterious and strange kind of child wisdom that Marik would probably never comprehend. Then the boy nodded, with absolute certainty, replying, "I know."

Both Marik and Emili held back the proud tears as Alexander turned back to his sleeping brother and gently pulled away from his father, standing back up on the elevation provided by the stool one final time and pressing his fingers to the glass once more, looking down at his fitfully sleeping brother as his tiny chest rose and fell, smiling down at the baby boy and whispering softly, "Good night, Cai. I'll be there when you wake up. I promise."

Emili found it extremely hard to keep herself from bursting into tears at the utter sweetness and kindness of the act, as Alexander had bonded better with his little brother than she could have ever imagined – though he still hadn't experienced what it would be like to live with another, smaller person taking up the attention having only known him for several minutes, and the wife of the king knew that they would have a lot of challenges to face in the future when the two grew up, not least because they were princes and sons of the reigning monarch and as such would have extremely large amounts of pressure on their young shoulders, pressure that Marik and Emili would help them through and to overcome.

"Come on, Alexander," Marik said, as he saw a selection of doctors lingering in the doorway and knowing that they wanted to perform tests on his youngest son to ensure that he would survive, gently pulling his eldest son into his arms and sitting on the hospital bed beside his wife, who smiled lovingly and exhaustedly at them both, but she wasn't planning on giving in to the urge to go to sleep any time in the foreseeable future. The boy resisted for a moment, before snuggling up against his mum and dad and keeping a watchful eye on his little brother, as Marik added, "Caiellis needs his sleep, anyway. The doctors are just going to make sure he is ok."

Alexander nodded again, resting his head on his mother's relatively bony shoulder as she stroked his hair, and Marik couldn't help but think that somehow his boy knew how close both Caiellis and Emili had got to death today and wanted to comfort his mother about it, so the king squeezed hold of his son's hand reassuringly, asking, "So, Alexander, what do you think about your little brother?"

The boy looked up at him with his adorable blue eyes, and then grinned, though it soon became replaced by a kind of pleading expression as he exclaimed, "He's cool and all." and then diverted his gaze towards his mother, his eyes filled with hope, "But … Can we have a puppy as well?"

.*.*.*.

Hierarch Tybalt blasted his way through another formation of glittering Enforcers lit up in the flickering crimson light of the storm above just like everything else plated with gold in the Augur's Quarter, the ostentatious decorations of the place making the aged man feel relatively sick, though that was nothing compared to the debaucheries he had seen committed within some of the structures he and the Swords of Silence, Guardian Lelia's elite veterans of the civil war that had each survived the massacre of Gol and saved others during that horrible time.

The silent Guardian was by his side, quietly hacking apart Enforcers from the Order of Wealth with her large broadsword, her eyes full of revulsion for their foes, and though he was in the middle of the battle Tybalt couldn't help but marvel at how quiet it sounded around him, as each and every member of the Swords of Silence had taken an oath of Silence like their leader until the perpetrators of the inter Lucaelian civil war were brought to justice – although their captain and Lelia's second in command was allowed to speak and relay the Light-bearer's orders, as otherwise that would be massively impractical. That meant that there was barely any sound coming from the Lucaelian side – no battle cries, no inspiring hymnals and not even quiet prayers, and even though the Welkalites were screaming it still did little to break the strange tranquillity of the brutal violence.

Even when those that suffered horrible and painful deaths in the ranks of the Swords of Silence died, they remained quiet, succumbing to their wounds peacefully, and Tybalt felt like he was being incredibly intrusive whenever one of his thunderous magics blasted discharges of light into the ranks of the Welkalites opposing their spearhead into the Augur's Quarter to find the Master of Passion that lead the Order of Wealth. He sensed that each warrior's armour and weaponry, whether they had access to magic or not, was etched with ancient spells passed down through the generations of Gol that Matalis Ortus Lucerna had once used to kill foes in the distant past, a type of silencing spell that surrounded the soldiers and wrapped them in a bubble of quiet that deflected the loud magic that the Welkalites blasted in their direction. The Hierarch had access to a similar spell himself, mixing the nullification properties of his Blue mana that could destabilise a spell as it was being cast with the silencing magic of White that would prevent them from attempting to use any more.

It was one of the strangest things he had ever experienced in his many years of life, but the Hierarch felt that it was a very valuable novelty to be fighting with warriors that have given up the privilege to use words so that their blows rang truer. He could never do such a thing himself, as words were the strongest weapons that he had and the only real thing apart from magic – which often required them – that he could offer to the Kingdom of Light – additionally, his job for the next few years of his long life was to teach the king's sons (or at least Caiellis, as Alexander would become an adult soon and could choose to attend the lessons or not), and that would be incredibly difficult without the usage of speech.

Tybalt's main objective at the moment was to storm the three huge spires looming over the avenue that they were in which were apparently known as the Towers of Ecstasy, as if the Master of Wealth was anywhere then they would be there. That would require breaking through the glimmering Welkalite forces that looked surprisingly like Lucaelian legionaries and were almost as disciplined that were blocking the Swords of Silence from progressing through the street. Tybalt conjured up White mana at the tip of his oak staff, channelling a ray of light through it that cut apart the Enforcers opposing them, before yet more of them repaired the breaches in their ranks and swung their halberds into the elite Swords of Silence, though they were slowly being broken apart by the greatest warriors of Gol Secondus, the City of Rebirth that marked the Lucaelian ability to triumph over any foe, no matter how vile and powerful, through the power of their unyielding faith.

Tybalt stayed in the second rank of the formation, knowing that his aged body and slower reaction time would make him unsuitable for the front line, and provided the warriors with numerous blessings and enchantments taught to him by his Second Sisterhood Angel, alabaster plates surrounding the soldiers and protecting them from the blasts of lightning and fire, and more mundane projectiles like crossbow bolts and arrows that were launched down from the Enforcers on top of nearby buildings, though there weren't as many as them are there were those that preferred to fight in melee combat against the Lucaelians – which, despite this being the territory of the Order of Wealth instead of the Order of Violence, didn't surprise the Capitalia Lux Hierarch at all, who focussed on blasting pillars of light amongst the warriors that the legionaries of Lucael couldn't reach.

Then, in spite of the bubble of tranquillity surrounding him, Tybalt heard a tempestuous and demonic roar of a darker nature than he had ever experienced before echoing across the battlefield, and felt a huge rise in Black and Red mana from a place nearby to the large and ornate palace in the Hedonist's Quarter, the Tempest of Craving crackling above them and releasing a horde of devilish creatures into the fray. However, the Hierarch was not concerned about himself, as he could sense that his youngest student was facing against what could well be an Archdemon all on his own, and while Marik was coming to his aid he was quite far off. The Hierarch was immensely worried about the boy, and as such promised to persevere and destroy the Order of Wealth so that more could come to the Lucerna's aid.

.*.*.*.

"Well that was simply adorable," a sneering and mocking voice roused Marik from his unconscious drifting, and the king shot to his feet, his body suddenly filled with adrenaline coursing through his veins as he instinctively grasped at the place where the handle of his artefact greatsword should be, before being greeted by the grinning face of the horror that had infected his mind and recalling that he had no weapons in this place. Anger rushed to the forefront of his mind, having for some reason expected to be released from his mental imprisonment after the flashback to one of his happiest memories (though it was somewhat tainted by what came after it) ceased, but instead he was thrust back within his mind.

"What is the purpose of this?!" he demanded, feeling almost the most impotent he ever had done on his entire life (the time where he felt the most useless was his wife's death, and the second was his sons' recent abduction), and desperately needing to escape and aid his youngest son in the battle against the Archdemon Rakdos, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't break out of his mind. The horror had too much of a hold on it; if he had noticed earlier than he could have destroyed it and broken free, but now it was far too late for that and the being had prevented him from getting a hold of his mana – and as physical attacks had been proven to be useless, he couldn't think of anything that he could do to murder Aksua's former Summoning and break free apart from waiting until it let him out, which, judging by the grinning expression on its inhuman features, would be a long time in the future, time that Caiellis didn't have.

"Don't you enjoy looking back into your memories, into the "happiest time of your life"?" the horror laughed, twisting Marik's thoughts against him in a sickening parody of what he had often thought, "Your constant thoughts wishing that you could return to that perfect life before your dear brother betrayed you seem to suggest otherwise, Mariky-boy. I'm simply giving you a way to feel happy again. Isn't that what you want?"

The king felt his anger rising once again, and it took all of his self control not to roar at the creature infesting his mind, but his rage was fuelled by the fact that he knew it was true, he knew he would rather return to that time when his wife wasn't alive and he was still happy, and his son's hadn't had their innocence ripped apart by Johnias's demons. However, no matter how much he wanted to go back to the perfect life, Marik knew that he couldn't, and simply retreating inside his mind and playing out his happy memories over and over again was extremely cowardly and negligent of not just his kingly duties, but his living sons. His job as a father was to protect them from danger as much as possible, and that meant overriding the urge to remain within his joy forever and saving Caiellis's life. He now understood why the horror was showing him these memories – so that he could be trapped within them forever while the world continued on. Marik could empathise immensely well with his youngest son now, who would have either been enraptured by the few moments in his short life that were good or tempted by a dream world of perfection.

No matter how much Marik wanted to go back in time, it wasn't possible, and that meant abandoning his living and breathing sons to a fate far worse than death in the clutches of a ravenous Archdemon. His life with Emili had ended long ago, and it was up to him to save the last remainders of her legacy instead of wallowing within his reminiscence, as otherwise he would be desecrating the memory of his perfect wife and she would never forgive him if he left her sons to die. One thing that the king had noticed that he could never begrudge his wife for was that she loved her two sons far more than she did him – though that wasn't to say that she wouldn't do anything for him and loved him more than anything else but Alexander and Caiellis – whereas he had loved each of them equally, as while his boys were his flesh and blood and as such easy to adore his wife had been perfection incarnate and she wasn't even related to him in any way.

"Poor, poor Marik. Always thinking about your wife instead of those still alive," the horror murmured, with feigned sadness that made the king's blood boil, but before he could ask it what it meant or reinforce the personal revelation that the horror was trying to prevent him from leaving by ensnaring him with his memories – although even before that he couldn't escape – he felt himself being dragged unwilling back into the past again, no matter how hard he tried to resist it.

.*.*.*.

The highest room in the Lucerna Palace, the location of the holy throne of the Lucaelian people was slowly filling up with a trickle of people all wearing their most magisterial and ceremonial outfits that walked in after being permitted entrance by the Lucerna Guard who were stationed at the door into the room from the large staircase leading up to it and next to the royal family, mingling amongst the crowd of other influential figures in the kingdom that had managed to arrive before the day's end, only heralded by an intensification of the darkness that perpetually surrounded the Kingdom of Light and had only ever been broken in small periods, the last roughly two years ago and the one before that the birth of Marik's eldest son.

The king wished that his youngest could have been afforded with such an honour, as while he didn't inherently believe that that made Caiellis any more inferior to his older brother some of the more narrow-minded or dogmatic in the kingdom may think so, and, coupled with the premature birth of the youngest making him appear weak could serve to make him less popular in the future. Marik brushed the concerns from his mind, still overwhelmed by the happiness that had suffused him since the birth a few hours ago, and would be further cemented in the time of the Angelic Descent which was very soon and the whole purpose of this gathering.

The Hierarchs that had managed to arrive – including arguably the most important, Hierarch Mithres of Capitalia Lux and the former student of his predecessor and Marik's own mentor Tybalt, who stood in the gathering as well and talked to some other nobles and Light-bearers – generally agreed that the word of the angels was that Avacyn, Angel of Hope and a very prominent First Sisterhood angel was to be his youngest son's holy Summoning, and while such predictions had sometimes been proven false as the plans of the revered angels changed, Marik was proud to think that his baby boy may one day wield power that had been passed down from his ancestors in the protection of the people. He knew that he didn't mind which angel blessed young Caiellis with their presence (well, apart from one, but she hadn't been seen for over a hundred years and there was no reason to suspect why she would appear), and his fatherly pride made him certain that his son would excel no matter who it was that descended from the heavens to serve under him.

The mood of the occupants of the ornate and quite frankly imposing room that Marik had never particularly liked (he found it far too intimidating, though it was not ostentatious like the throne rooms of other nations' sovereigns, just reflected the wealth and power of the royal family) was full of quiet jubilance, reverence and respect for the Lucerna family and its newest member, though none were happier than the parents and older brother of the new baby boy. As tradition dictated, instead of Marik being seated on the gigantic throne on the other side of the room Caiellis was placed in front of it instead, so when the First Sisterhood angel greeted him they paid their respects to the Lucerna family that the First Angel had chosen to bless with her divine presence – that meant the monarch was free to interact with the people.

However, the room wasn't quite as crowded with influential nobles and those with enough prestige to be at the official ceremony as Alexander's ceremony, but that was down to the premature birth of his youngest son that had almost killed the boy and his mother as because he had been born a month early, several of the Light-bearers and generals that would have arrived on the allotted time for the birth (or a bit earlier to ensure that they weren't late) were still in the midst of duties that they had planned to end before the birth of the newest Lucerna. As the monorails that Marik had planned for were still only in the early stages of construction and building in the abyss was a very perilous endeavour, travel between the cities still took days to complete and as such the news of the early birth was only just spreading, much less the Light-bearers setting off to be at the palace and pay their respects to the newborn descendant of Matalis Ortus Lucerna.

Marik wouldn't let anything ruin his jubilant mood, as he greeted a couple of generals from the City of Nourishment who bowed and loudly proclaimed their allegiance to the Lucerna Throne, and then walked past him to go and look at the newest prince, who was fast asleep and unaware of the attention focused upon him as he rested within the mana incubator that had been carefully transported from the surgery to here, as if the king's fragile youngest had been taken out of it he would have soon died, much as Marik didn't want to entertain the awful thought. He still hadn't been able to touch his son, to hold him and impress the fact that he was his father upon him, and probably wouldn't be able to for several weeks if not months as his condition stabilised, though there was little doubt in Marik's mind that Caiellis would be a small boy for a long time.

He looked around the gathering, smiling at the albino Guardian Axeclion as both of them rolled their eyes amusedly at his teenage apprentice Tristram who was looking at the floor and clearly not wanting to be here; the seventeen year old had a severe lack of respect for authority – which apparently included the Lucerna line as well – and was full of sullen adolescent angst, though despite all that he was an exemplary warrior and would probably inherit his master's role when the older man either died in glorious battle or retired when he was too old to fight any longer.

Marik knew that Alexander looked up to Tristram just as much as he idolised the other soldiers scattered around the palace (constantly declaring that one day he would be as big and strong as them), though wasn't sure whether the Guardian-in-training was a good inspiration for his older son due to his sarcastic and disrespectful nature that Marik found (much to the boy's chagrin) quite amusing as he had often acted in a similar way at that age and knew he would grow out of it. Originally he had made Alexander stay at his side and be there to greet the guests, but because his son had (admittedly understandably) got quite bored he had let the lad wander so long as he stayed within the sight of both Carlis – Marik's friend and the father of Alexander's best buddies, who, much to the displeasure of his son, hadn't been invited to the ceremony since they were only children – and his dad, though right now Marik couldn't see the boy.

It wasn't as if he was that worried, as this was the safest location in all of Lucael, but the excitable little gut could often get himself into awkward situations or start pestering some of the guests, who luckily found it extremely cute but Marik knew from experience how annoying it could become over a protracted period of time. He wanted both of his young sons in vision so that he knew nothing was happening to them and that they were safe and sound, so to that end he casually walked to the middle of the hall until he saw a flash of blonde hair next to the Hierarch of Scientia Mos Martha, who smiled warmly at the king and whispered something to Alexander that had him giggling for a few seconds before he guiltily looked up at his father, who cocked an eyebrow at the four year old.

"Come on, Alexander, over here. Didn't I tell you not to go out of my sight?" the king asked, holding out his hand for his eldest son to come and grab hold of, and despite the fact that he only put a small modicum of sternness that he didn't actually feel into the words his little boy still hung his head in shame, sad that he was receiving his father's censure in spite of how mild it was. He smiled lovingly down at his son, who looked back up at him and grabbed his hand, waving goodbye to Martha who smiled sweetly and went to go and get a drink from some of the palace servants that were serving them. The king smiled and nodded affably to the generals and Light-bearers that bowed in his direction, used to the respect from years of receiving it (though at first it had terrified him, while Johnias used to half hate it and half bask in it), gently pulling Alexander along with him as he went to check on his youngest and newest son.

"Daddy?" the four year old inquired as they walked through the room, his young eyes wide with wonderment at the elaborate but not ostentatious tapestries and stained glass window patterns adorning the throne room, making Marik belatedly remember that the only time Alexander had been in here was when he was in the same position as baby Caiellis, and so wouldn't have remembered it at all.

Expecting his oldest son to carry on speaking without his conformation, the twenty seven year old king kept walking towards the incubator that was placed on top of the holy throne that made little Caiellis looked even more miniature as he peacefully slept, Marik was vaguely surprised to see that his son had grown silent, obviously feeling that he should be showing respect (though Marik had never really wanted deference from his children, just a respect one shows to their parents out of love and gratitude – not fear, as that was what had forced his politeness to his and his brother's late father) because they were in company, the king diverted a glance down to his son when no further words came out, prompting, "Yes, Alexander?"

"I'm bored," the boy slowly stated, his voice a mixture of a childish whine and a shameful admission, fiddling with the collar of the ceremonial suit that the king had made him wear – Alexander had made it known on numerous occasions that he didn't like it, probably because he couldn't play rough and tumble with the expensive garments on that he wasn't allowed to damage otherwise he knew he would get told off, but Marik personally thought that he looked immensely cute and smart within them – and it belatedly occurred to the monarch that this sort of environment was entirely inappropriate for a four year old possessed of boundless youthful energy that would much rather be playing than sat in a gathering of boring adults.

However, as a Lucerna prince Alexander needed to be here at his brother's ceremony, though he wouldn't be able to Summon Aurelia the Warleader to greet the First Sisterhood angel like Marik would call upon Akroma (and hopefully Johnias would be here to Summon Serenity, but the king's older identical twin hadn't yet arrived and it was looking as if he wouldn't), so Marik softly told him, "I know that this isn't the most interesting place to be in-" he shot a glare to Hierarch Mithres who stifled a giggle and bowed to conceal his smile - "But this is an important occasion for your little brother Caiellis, and you can't miss it."

"But he's asleep," Alexander replied with confusion, casting a glance over at the tank that held his baby brother and prevented his big brother from hugging him, though the boy assumed that it had something to do with Caiellis being born too early and too excited for the real world outside of mummy, although at his height (which was relatively tall for a four year old, but he was a four year old nonetheless) he wouldn't have been able to tell if Cai actually was slumbering or not.

Anyway, he wondered why, if this was so important, his brother was allowed to stay asleep, and how it could be important Marik repressed the urge to reply, "So were you at your own Angelic Descent," as he knew that wouldn't explain anything to his little boy, so he instead put an arm around his young shoulders and inflected his voice with importance, thinking about what Emili (who was sleeping and needed her rest down in the surgery after the torment of the birth) would say, "And that is exactly why you need to be here: so you can tell him what will happen, as because he is asleep Caiellis won't know."

Alexander considered the words for a moment and then nodded, suffused with his new-found big brother responsibilities that he had taken upon himself more than because of any prompting from his mother or father, as while the two had told him that he would have to set a good example for his younger sibling and sometimes protect or help them, they hadn't made it seem like Caiellis was his responsibility as he was theirs as parents and Alexander would have enough to do without trying to look after someone younger than him. Of course the couple wanted him to get on well with his little brother, as there were many benefits to a strong brotherly bond and when one of them became king the other would have to support them (just as Johnias supported Marik now by acting as his emissary and taking the burdens of running Vectura, Crescia and Epulaeous), but they didn't want him to feel as if it was his job to ensure that his brother was doing well.

"What is going to happen?" Alexander then inquired as they reached the throne and Marik pulled up a couple of chairs (though the majority of the people in the room were standing as the customary celebratory meal would come after the angel arrived and branded the Lucerna infant with their exalted sigil) so that they could sit next to his youngest son until it came closer to the time, and while he knew the prince was aware of the general idea he didn't know exactly what would occur. He sat down on one and patted the other for his son, who swung up onto it and let his legs dangle off the edge, and Marik hoped that Alexander didn't think he was ignoring him when he looked into the neonatal support unit that contained his sleeping new son and whispered, "You're going to have your own angel soon, little guy. Don't worry about it at all, you will be perfectly fine, Caiellis. I love you." he kissed his fingertip and placed it to the glass, and turned back to his eldest, who Marik knew had been watching intently but pretended that he had been looking somewhere else by quickly turning and almost falling off of his chair, steadied by his father's hand.

The king hoped that Alexander wouldn't feel like he and Emili were showing him less affection because he had a little brother that was far more fragile and would undoubtedly take up more attention at the moment so that his precarious hold upon life could be cemented and strengthened, but to help assuage that he ruffled his son's hair lovingly as the boy giggled and pushed his hand away, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of all of the other people, though he did enjoy playing with his father in spite of its relative rarity because of his important job as the king. Marik then explained, "This is where Caiellis is going to get his angel, just like you did the day you were born. We don't know which one it will be yet, but before she arrives I will be Summoning Akroma as well."

"I get to see some angels?!" Alexander inquired excitedly, virtually bouncing in his seat at the thought, and his father smiled back and chuckled – he had been the same as a young child, though had not been as vocal about it to his cold and unloving father, whereas Johnias and now Alexander was. He patted the youngster on the shoulder fondly, replying, "Yeah. You will be seeing Akroma, and (he declined to mention Serenity because if his brother didn't make it – having planned to arrive a few days before the official birth to help them through it – then he didn't want to dash his son's hopes) one other First Sisterhood angel, though as I said we don't know which one its coming to bless your brother."

"Cool!" the boy exclaimed, kicking his legs on the seat happily and full of an infectious youthful enthusiasm that could make Marik happy even in the direst of situations, and the king smiled patently at his son before turning back to his other one, who still hadn't awoken and probably wouldn't. While he had never particularly been happy about his own Lucerna heritage, though he was more understanding of it now than when he had been a teenager and hated it with a passion, especially because Garius had favoured Johnias over him, he was monumentally glad of it now, as without the blood of rulers running through Caiellis's veins he would have succumbed to his frailty already and given out. Marik tried not to think of the fact that being infused with an extremely powerful First Sisterhood angel's mana could easily kill an infant as brittle and delicate as Caiellis, as the reason behind them only choosing Lucernas as Summoners was because no other mortals could sustain such a high amount of magical energy within them.

"Will it give him a symbol as well?" Alexander's joyful and excited words cut into the sudden melancholy that had broken through Marik's happiness at the thought of his already beloved youngest son dying without him being able to do anything to help the boy, but he quickly reassured himself that it had never happened in the past (although, unless it hadn't been recorded – which it probably hadn't, no Lucerna infant had ever been as fragile as his own) and the First Sisterhood angel that had selected Caiellis wouldn't allow him to die on their watch. He shook his head, though not vigorously enough for his son to notice, and responded, "Yes, she will give Caiellis a birthmark, like you have your Swords of Flame."

To emphasise his point, Marik gently tugged the sleeve of his son's right arm and prodded the crossed swords of Aurelia that were stamped onto the bicep, smiling when Alexander repressed a giggle at the touch sending a laughing stimulus through him. On a whim, the king carried the boy onto his chair and placed him on his knees (which luckily weren't armoured as while he could have chosen to wear his official and ceremonial armour he decided instead to appear much more like a diplomatic ruler and father that wouldn't just protect the people through force of arms) and started tickling his son, who was sniggering loudly and trying to push away from his father. Marik knew that there were eyes on him and Alexander, but none remained for long and none were disapproving of his showing affection to his own flesh and blood – not that he would care that much either way, Alexander was his son and he deserved to be loved, and that meant that he didn't have to be formal and dignified around the four year old.

He thought he might have gone a bit overboard when his son shrieked with delighted laughter after he had flipped the boy onto his back, and he heard someone tutting in front of them, but the sound was full of joviality and fond amusement. A tired but strong voice then broke into the laughter of his oldest son, laughing, "Ah, Caiellis, what are we going to do with them?"

Marik looked up into the beautiful and dazzling face of his wife staring down at the father and son, who was suppressing further giggles and pushed himself up so that he was sat upright on his father's knee, before sending a quick side glance over towards the incubator protecting his youngest son, who was blinking tiredly and watching him and Alexander playing, obviously roused by the laughter, but after Marik and his wife each gave him a little wave he drifted back off into the realm of dreams. Emili smiled down at her seated husband and son, who looked half guiltily up at her before Marik gently shifted Alexander over onto the other seat (which he remained upon for about a second before following his father's example) and stood up, taking in the queen fully.

Only Emili, his perfect wife, could suffer though hours of agonising exertion and brush against death's door numerous times earlier in the day and then emerge from sleep and stay as heavenly (though it was blasphemy to compare a human to an angel and Marik was simply using it as a figure of speech) and stunning as she always was. The queen still looked pale and still had blank bangs underneath her beguiling and intelligent emerald green orbs, but her face was full of happiness and contentedness that counteracted the exhaustion. She was wearing a graceful purple dress that fit her form perfectly and scintillated in the golden illumination from the mana-fuelled light sources scattered across the ancient room.

A golden circlet that had originally belonged to Marik's own mother (that had died in childbirth of twins as all of her mana had been sapped into them, which was one of the many reasons why his father had become broken and cold) and was inlaid with a single amethyst gemstone in the centre that matched her dress perfectly adorned her head, with her brown hair plaited expertly upon her head underneath it – the circlet matched Marik's own crown that was placed upon his own head, a simple band of enchanted silver that had once been worn by Matalis Ortus Lucerna – or so the history books liked to suggest, though the official Lucerna crown did thrum with energy in his magical sixth sense. Marik was lost for words for a moment, feeling the same undying love for his wife that he had done on numerous occasions in the past (though, amusingly, not when he had met her as at the time he had severely resented her presence), before his concern for her broke through his silence that had only been punctuated by Alexander's exclamation of, "Wow, you look nice mum!"

"Are you sure that you should be up? The Surgeon-general suggested that you should be resting for at least a whole day?" Marik asked, leaning forward and gently embracing his wife after kissing her on the lips, ignoring the chemical tang of them because of the drugs that she had been forced to take to aid in her survival and attempt to numb the pain, though he heard Emili sigh sadly at how delicately he was handling her in order to not exacerbate her weakness because of the premature birth. She responded warmly, "Thank you, Alex. You look very smart yourself, young man," her son beamed with pride and held himself straighter, adjusting the outfit that had been slightly crumpled in his playful wrestling with his dad, and she made her voice more stern, adamant and determined when she spoke to Marik next, stating like it was an undisputed fact, "And I am perfectly capable of being here, Marik, no matter what the Surgeon-general suggested. I am not missing this important moment in my youngest son's life for anything, my love. And nothing you say will change that."

Marik simply smiled back at her and kept his thoughts to himself, knowing that when his wife got into the stubborn streak of hers then nothing would make her back down (apart from in very few occasions), which was the same as him and often their rare arguments would last for days until one of them realised that it was pointless and that neither of them would win so acceded to the other side and they forgave and forgot – both of his sons had sometimes very obstinate parents, as Marik and them had the notorious Lucerna stubbornness and adamant defiance whereas Emili's personality would be like that. He wasn't looking forward to his sons becoming moody teenagers, that was for certain, especially when they argued with each other.

He was proud beyond words of his wife who had delivered him two perfect sons and had strength far beyond that of her frame and relative lack of magical strength (though she could still Summon a reasonably powerful kirin), and didn't want to argue with her in front of his son (well, both of his sons, but after his brief foray into the world of the awake Caiellis had fallen back into his sleep, which Marik supposed was because the frail baby needed to conserve as much energy as possible), especially not on such a happy and glorious event that would mark the entrance of another member to the Lucerna family and could one day rule the entire nation.

Marik wished that his sons didn't have the possibility of that hanging over them, as instead of growing up as normal children with hopes and dreams they would have to be taught (and Alexander already had, but very slightly) how to act as a Lucerna and how best to protect and lead the Kingdom of Light, but the current king had long since told himself that if the Lucerna family didn't step up and take the responsibility of sovereignty, then no one else would be capable of doing so, and he would rather have one of his own sons on the throne than anyone else, because that meant he could teach them not to abuse the power.

However, that didn't bear thinking about right now, as Marik intended to grow old with Emili and have one of his two sons, as adults, inherit the throne from him, so instead he pulled his wife closer and kissed her on the forehead, knowing that what he wanted to do (which was to go and basically snog Emili) could wait for later, and was entirely inappropriate in front of their young children. He felt a touch near to his legs, so looked down to see Alexander attempting to join in the hug by wrapping his arms around his mother's leg, who smiled and twirled some of his blonde hair that was so much like Marik's own and shone in the golden light of the chamber of the holy throne. He picked up the boy and shared the weight of him with Emili, although took most of it himself because despite the brave and adamant face she was putting on his wife was exhausted and should really be resting, and murmured, "I love you both."

"We love you too, daddy," Emili replied for her distracted son, who was using the height given to him by his parents carrying him to scramble further upwards and glance at his sleeping little brother, sticking his tongue out at the boy in a manner that he must have learned from the partner of the monarch, before Emili gently admonished, not as occupied with hugging Marik as Alexander had believed, "Don't be rude to Caiellis, Alexander. He's a part of our family too now."

"I wasn't being rude, mummy. I was just playing with him," the boy muttered innocently as Marik put him down on the floor and he immediately rushed to the glass tank containing his brother, though Caiellis hadn't awakened. Marik rolled his eyes with his wife, who smiled, happy that Alexander was taking to his sibling despite the fact that he had only just met him, though still couldn't really understand why he was so small in spite of the fact that he was born early. One thing Emili was sure of was that the novelty of having a little brother would soon wear off for him when the time came for them to get older, especially if Caiellis pestered his big brother. Emili turned back to her husband, her green eyes twinkling with love for her family, and then noticed that he wasn't looking at her or his sons anymore, one of whom was prodding the glass of the incubator in an attempt to make his little brother wake up that Emili would have to stop him from doing, but instead at the entrance to the room, a smile working its way onto his face.

Another Lucerna had entered the throne room, the praetorians allowing him entrance with a smile of their own, with a face very similar to Marik's but only set apart by the scar of his chin that had been inflicted by a creature very similar to that of an extinct vampire that had been purged from the world by Queen Matrice whilst he was in Vectura, the City of Transportation that was the city most focussed on the monorail lines in construction that Marik knew would revolutionise transport and would hopefully be a lasting legacy of his reign – another difference was the four pointed Star of Serenity imprinted onto the top left of his forehead. Finally, if the physical differences didn't give it away, one could ascertain the identity of the twin through the warm and affable tint to his blue eyes, an easy confidence in the presence of others that Marik didn't possess, instead of a cold and icy glimmer that was often tinged with familial love – as it was now.

Marik marched quickly to the other side of the room as his twin brother walked in, the other twenty seven year old's open eyes betraying his tiredness at probably having travelled at maximum speed in an endeavour to reach his new nephew's Angelic Descent, and the king couldn't help but grin widely at his older brother and forget the animosity between them that had ruined his teenage years, though Johnias hadn't caused it – it had been Garius and Marik, with the older twin in the middle but having to support his cold father. "Johnias! It's so good to see you again."

The other man smiled back at him, and instead of accepting the respectful handshake that Marik offered he pulled the king into his arms and wrapped him in a bear hug, though both mens' strength was equal and Marik returned the gesture, embracing his brother in a way that highlighted his enjoyment of the evening, though the fact that Johnias was still in his armour made the hug less than comfortable. The slightly older man ruffled his hair, earning himself a glower for his trouble as well as his brother's face going slightly red at being embarrassed in front of his subjects, increasing in intensity when Johnias replied, "It's good to see you again as well, little bro. It has been too long."

When they had been younger, the two twins had (through no desire of the antisocial adolescent Marik had been) stuck together constantly, and while he pretended that he had disliked it Marik had always felt comfortable at his brother's side, as Johnias had helped his through his battles with their father and even protected him from a beating once by standing up to the indignant Garius, earning his own for his trouble that had made Marik realise how ungrateful he had been being to his twin brother. Going almost a full year without seeing each other would have been distinctly alien to their young minds, but both of them had duties to complete (especially Marik) and so they often went periods of time separate, but then again they were adults and independent now.

"Don't call me that," Marik growled, though the words were not tinged with anything more than boisterous and playful aggression, and Johnias merely grinned at him and punched him lightly on the shoulder, before bowing respectfully to him for a second as if reminding Marik that he still wanted to show respect in spite of them being twin brothers and both of them being Lucerna. Johnias had often named him that in spite of (or, most likely, precisely because of) how much it annoyed his four minutes younger brother, though Marik wasn't sure whether he did it because it irritated him or because he liked to feel like he was the dominant one in the brotherly relationship. "But anyway, I'm glad you could make it. It wouldn't be the same without you here, and it will be good for both my sons to see their uncle."

"I'm sorry that I was so late. I wanted to arrive early so that I could help you, Emili and Alex through the birth period, maybe even take the little one off your hands for a while to give you two more chance to prepare, but you know how it is..." Johnias apologised, though Marik raised an eyebrow at that as they casually began to stroll back to the location of baby Caiellis, the eldest living Lucerna evidently quite excited to see the newest member of their distinguished family. He was quick to reassure his brother, telling him, "You have nothing to apologise for, Johnias. Caiellis was born a month early, as you already know, and it came as a shock to everyone. You've clearly travelled a long way in a short space of time to be here, brother, and I really appreciate it. I'm just glad that you are here."

"Thanks. And, yeah. I came as quickly as I could once I heard the news," the man replied, grinning at the generals and Light-bearers according him respect, though now after three years of Marik's reign they showed the king the most honest deference, whereas at his coronation a large number of them still believed that Johnias would have made the superior king and were very, very apprehensive of the new King Marik. While Johnias's suitability in the throne could never be tested (unless Marik and his two sons died, which wasn't something the king wished to think about at the moment), and personally Marik still thought that his brother would have made a much better king than him, his own merit had been proven through his achievements in allying with the curious and friendly Yentarian Republic – an unprecedented event in the history of Lucael, one that many were suspicious of, but had many visible benefits such as vastly superior technology – and annihilating the last vestiges of the Grafnica Dominion.

"Johnias. It's good to see you again," the voice of his wife pierced into the king's thoughts, and his brother smiled at Emili and kissed her on the cheek, something that mildly offended the king but Marik sensed that it was done without any ill will. When he had first starting dating Emili at the age of just eighteen (having been forbidden a girlfriend until he was an adult by his father, though he had disobeyed with the daughter of a Light-bearer of Cassida Principia) Johnias had expressed that he was glad that he had finally started to interact with the fairer sex, though the words had been tainted with jealously at the fact that while he had been taking out many women of a similar age to him, he hadn't been able to find permanence like Marik had with Emili – and still hadn't, even after years of the two being married.

Emili merely winked back and stood next to Marik, remembering long ago when Johnias had originally flirted with her when she had merely been the younger brother's logistical advisor, but the two had never got further than that after she discovered her love for Marik. She liked her husband's brother, finding him to be the perfect counterpart for her sometimes socially awkward and cold spouse, but she had never really ever been attracted to his personality like he had once been attracted to her, though when she and the youngest of the twins had started going out Johnias had spoken to her in private and impressed upon her the seriousness of dating his "little brother" and that he would never forgive her if she broke his heart. That was before Marik had become the king and she in turn the queen, and Johnias had been very happy for his twin brother that he had managed to find someone that made him cheerful, not even mentioning the little fling that he had had with Emili, which the woman had taken as a hint that they were going to forget about it for Marik's sake, something she wholeheartedly agreed with.

"It's nice to see you as well, Emili. But shouldn't you be resting? You have just given birth to a one month early child, and I can tell how exhausted you are," Johnias suggested mildly, receiving a fiery glare from his sister in law that indicated that she had already had the conversation with Marik, who simply rolled his eyes and shook his head in despair, putting an arm around his wife's waist as she pecked him on the cheek, hoping that the display of affection didn't make Johnias feel intrusive since he was a part of their family, and all three of them smiled when they heard an excited, "Uncle Johnias!"

The addressed grinned widely and turned around to see a small boy running at him, a goofy smiled plastered onto adorable young features that reminded the man quite strongly of the pictures he had been shown of himself as a child, although as the photography technology that was in the process of being developed in Lucael hadn't been around then he had only seen portraits of a young him and Marik, though even then the artist had been a mage so the expressions and emotions were conveyed almost perfectly, albeit it took too long to smile in and Johnias had hated sitting still on one place for over an hour. Alexander launched himself at his uncle, who took the four year old's charge and picked him up in his arms, making a show of grunting at the added weight, and spinning Alexander around, laughing, "How are you doing, little buddy? Though I suppose you aren't that little any more. You get taller and taller every time I see you."

The boy grinned proudly and hugged his only uncle tight, before the man put him down with a smile as the middle prince said, "Daddy didn't say that you were coming."

"Didn't he?" Johnias asked in feigned confusion, shooting a glance over to Marik, who's blue eyes were betraying his shame at ever countenancing that his twin brother wouldn't turn up for his nephew's Angelic Descent, so Johnias grinned at him, knowing that the only reason his sibling wouldn't have mentioned it to his eldest son was because he didn't want to disappoint the lad, so said, "Well he should have. I'm not going to miss your little brother's ceremony for anything."

He patted his nephew on the head fondly, smiling at the boy's contagious and adorable grin that he shot in the direction of his uncle, and reached down to the satchel that was hanging on his waist before slowing bringing out something long and wrapped in cloth to protect it from the hurried journey he had undertaken that had almost killed his horse, his grin broadening when he saw Alexander's blue eyes opening wider in excitement, as he always made sure to bring his nephew a present. Marik shared a smile with Emili, because as Johnias had no children of his own he spoilt Alexander – and probably would Caiellis as well – and adored his nephew, and though one could say that they spoilt their son they preferred to think of it as treating him to the occasional gift when he did well at something, it was his birthday or another celebration, or they just felt like making their son happy, but it was nowhere near the amount that they could have pampered Alexander with the resources they had at their disposal.

"Here. Uncle Johnias has got something for you," the man told the boy, passing him the gift which was received by tiny hands that waited a second for conformation before removing the fabric and gazing delightedly at the contents of the package – Marik smiled when he saw that it was a wooden (the material seemed to be of Erian origin, probably some from of oak imported from Geansse) training sword elegantly engraved with Alexander's full name along the "blade" and with the boy's Swords of Flame symbol adorning the crossguard. Alexander was overjoyed, he loved anything to do with soldiers and angels, and this sword would allow him to get closer to his mental picture of them that hadn't yet been tainted by the cruel reality of warfare, "Wow! Look and what Uncle Johnias got me, daddy!"

He swung the sword in a wide arc, Emili suddenly extremely thankful for the fact that the other members of the gathering gave the Lucerna family a wide deferential berth so that Alex's relentless attacking of the air as he pretended to be a knight or a Lucerna king of the past and slaying imaginary foes around him didn't hit any of the other nobles, and all three of the adults smiled lovingly at him, the king saying, "It's wonderful, isn't it? That's really nice of your uncle."

As Alexander started to move away, chasing pretend enemies that were further away from the three adults, Marik grabbed hold of the back of his suit and gently dragged him back in front of his uncle, patiently telling him, "So what do we say, champ?"

"Thank you, Uncle Johnias," Alexander murmured, suddenly seemingly quite shy and his youthful enthusiasm having dissolved for a moment, though the words were heartfelt and they made the eldest surviving Lucerna smile and wink at the boy, jostling his shoulder and encouraging him to play with the training weapon again, as he had enjoyed watching the limitless energy of the boy and found it refreshing to all of the darkness, evil and sorrow of the adult world. It reminded him of his own past, and that was something he wanted to cherish just as much as he was looking forward to the future. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. So long as you continue to be as good a boy as you have been, you are deserving of every gift you get. And it's nice to see you again."

He locked eyes with Marik and indicated his head in the direction of the Lucerna Throne, and his younger brother smiled, though it was tinted with sadness and tiredness that made Johnias feel concerned for the newest member of his family as he followed Marik over there, the man explaining, "He is called Caiellis."

"That's a nice name. Caiellis Noctis Lucerna," Johnias replied, testing the words in his mouth and finding that he agreed with the statement as they reached the mana incubator containing the sleeping prince, who's pale face was full of an innocence and purity that Johnias found breathtaking, as did many of the other guests who came to see the boy on this day who may one day be ruling over them all, though he couldn't help but notice how tiny he was in comparison to other infants that he had seen, especially Alexander, who had been a heavy and healthy baby ready to meet the world, and still exhibited a lot of that childhood chubbiness (though of course he wasn't obese) now, whereas Johnias's youngest nephew looked as if removing him from the support unit would kill him. He smiled down at the boy, sensing his own brother's worry increasing tenfold just by being in the presence of his second son, and ascertaining that both the boy and his mother had almost been killed by the premature birth, though looking at Emili wouldn't show it.

Caiellis looked quite a bit more like his mother than his brother had, though he still had the high cheekbones reminiscent of the Lucerna bloodline – anyway, what he looked like now wasn't suggestive of how he would appear once he had grown up and developed fully, though he would probably always be smaller than his other family members unless he progressed out of the thinness brought on by his early entrance into the world. The baby was sleeping softly, his little arms wrapped around the blanket that hung over his body, and Johnias reached down to touch him before his hand was instantly intercepted by his brother's firm grasp that prevented him from doing it. He looked up at Marik, and was taken aback by the sadness in the man's eyes, immediately feeling sorry for what he had done when the king uttered, "We can't touch him yet, Johnias. His bones are too fragile, and any contact, no matter how gentle, could irrevocably damage them for the rest of his life. I haven't even been able to touch him yet."

Johnias saw a deep sorrow in the man's eyes because of the fact that he was incapable of holding his son who Marik already dearly loved – it was impossible not to -, unable to press upon the boy the fact that he was his father and hold and comfort his fragile youngest through the pain that he was probably in, as well as the confusion at being isolated from everyone else within a glass box. Marik was more scared than Johnias had ever seen him before, and that included the time when Garius had almost beat his youngest scion to within an inch of his life for the severe disrespect Marik had shown him, his love of his children and wife eclipsing all else, so to help combat that the man put an arm around his twin's broad shoulders, apologising, "I'm sorry. That was incredibly stupid of me; I saw that he was in an incubator and I knew that he had been born early."

"No, it's alright," Marik replied softly, gazing intently at the sleeping Caiellis and wondering if some part of the baby's mind was aware of all of the worry he was causing the members of his family, or even if he knew who they were – though he did at least seem to be aware of Emili's role as his mother since she was the one who he had lived inside of for eight months and first been hugged close by after he had been cut out of her stomach. He added, "You didn't know, that's all. The Surgeon-general said that to be safe we should leave him for around a month, but … that's so long..."

"I'm sure he knows who you are, Marik," Johnias soothed, figuring out the main source of his brother's worry past his son's fragility and deciding to comfort it upon it, and changing the conversation back to blaming himself for things so that it would distract Marik from his own feeling of impotence at knowing that his son could give out any second and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it, "I'm sorry, but I didn't bring Caiellis a gift, as I was planning to get it once his gender was found out around this time before when he should have been born."

"Stop apologising for things that aren't your fault," Marik told him sternly, "Caiellis took us all by surprise, not least me and his mother. We haven't even got his room completely ready yet, though he is going to have the one that I used to have because as you know Alexander inherited yours, because me and Emili couldn't agree on a colour without a gender to decide it from. At least the fact that he has to stay in the incubator for a while will help us get properly ready for him."

A brooding but companionable silence descended as the two Lucerna twins stared at the son of the youngest, both of them thinking different but ultimately the same things about unaware Caiellis, before a small figure pushed itself in between them and placed their chubby hand on the glass again, telling the two adults, "I'm looking forward to being able to play with my little brother. He seems really nice."

Marik couldn't stop himself from smiling at the happiness present in the statement, but had little time to ruminate upon the words or even respond to them when he felt a gigantic mana presence closing in on the world, giving the Lucaelians a warning of its coming in the age old tradition so that the other Lucernas who were capable of Summoning their own First Sisterhood angels did so before the holy sister arrived. All of those invited to the gathering unanimously and silently took their places at each side of the throne room, leaving a central avenue from the entrance to allow the angel that would be blessing the youngest part of the exalted royal family with their presence to walk or gently fly to the location of the babe.

Emili took hold of Alexander's hand and gently pulled him to one side after a moment of resistance, though they remained close to Caiellis's incubator due to their importance as family of the child, though the woman was vaguely sad that her parents hadn't made it because of the earliness of their new grandson's birth. Marik and Johnias stood in the central path to the throne, the king's holy crown glowing with White mana as he prepared to Summon, capturing the attention of all of the occupants of the room as Johnias mimicked his actions, though the twins' Summoning rituals were quite different due to the nature of their respective seraphs.

Marik placed his palms in front of his bare throat as the Blade of Wrath birthmark illuminated the room with pale and milky mana that shone with a blinding intensity as a sphere of it formed within his hands and the air around him began to be charged with incandescent energy, a pure white outline forming around the king as the sphere expanded and the sound of a glorious but also deadly serious war hymn could be heard in the background, complemented by a melodic, rich, thoughtful and tranquil tune that was coming over from where Johnias had pushed his arms out with his palms outstretched, pink circles of mana forming around them and reaching out with four points, one extending from every ninety degrees of the circles.

The Star of Serenity on his forehead was pulsating with serene pink and white light, and his eyes became glowing orbs of the same colour as he brought the two circles together just as Marik's sphere of wrathful White mana expanded to a size that eclipsed his human form that forced the occupants of the room to close their eyes and divert their gaze. Alexander watched with baited breath, filled with awe and pride at the sheer power of his father and uncle and knowing that the darkness and the monsters could never defeat his heroes, before Emili covered up his eyes with her slender hand when she saw her son watching, not wanting his young eyes to be damaged by the brightness of the luminescence. A ritual circle of pink magic was expanding out in front of Johnias until it reached a size enough to accommodate an angel and flashed upwards, angelic and calming characters in a holy language revolving around the edge of the circle.

Then, all of the mana in the room began to be focussed into two large figures that immediately captured the gazes of everyone within with their divine power that radiated out of their perfect bodies. Akroma, the Angel of Wrath, stood in front of the king, holding her gargantuan marble blade out in front of her in a saluting position, and though she was as cold as ever Marik thought he could perceive elements of pride and exultation in the angel's expression on her flawless milky features, extending her golden white wings topped with pale armour edged in gold outwards and stirring the hearts of all the mortals within the room.

Though her presence was not as commanding or dominating as her sister's, Serenity's form was no less impressive, with magnificent and feathery white wings opening to match her sister, though hers were left unadorned by armour. She had more colour to her skin than Akroma's waxen pallor, and more warmth and genuine friendliness to her smile as she directed it at the Lucaelians within the throne room. Her hair was golden and blonde as she flicked it to the side, glowing in the holy illumination from the Summoning rituals and the light that unnaturally lit up the throne room from the inside and reflected off of the plated silver armour decorated with precious gold that protected her holy form from attack.

She held two swords, the one in her right hand a trusty and relatively unadorned blade of steel that was of a similar make to Akroma Blade of Wrath, though much smaller than the massive weapon, while her other one was far more eye catching. The blade itself was not made of any form of metal, but instead was a blazing sword of lucent pink luminosity, with a long handle of red wood and a silver crossguard representation of the Star of Serenity that shone on Johnias's head above his left eye, though it was inclined at an angle instead of being flat from the handle. The most spectacular thing about Serenity however was her eyes, orbs of pure light that promised peace, and end to the war against the darkness where the good and the righteous would be rewarded for their efforts and the generations to come could live in a quiet world away from the screams of violence that echoed across this one.

Although she had appeared to many Lucernas in the past, though with not as much regularity as some of her sisters (such as Akroma or Aurelia), Serenity had never been the Summoning of a monarch, though whether that was just coincidence or something deeper was unknown to the humans that had made the connection. It didn't seem to affect the angel, who Akroma seemed to sometimes treat more like a child than a divine First Sisterhood angel, hinting at their relationship in the Sanctum Angelica, and when Marik had asked her about it the Angel of Wrath (had actually answered, which was surprising enough) said that Serenity was her youngest sister (though still timeless compared to the lifespans of humans) and was the most innocent, the most suited for a world away from war instead of being focussed more upon that war. She had likened it to what one would show when trying to protect a virtuous younger sibling or child from the true horror of the world and preserve their innocence for a long as possible, though Serenity had long since known about the darkness of Sancturia and the material plane.

"Nobles of Lucael," Marik proclaimed, feeling the gazes of everyone in the room (even his eldest son, who pried himself away from looking at the angels to listen to his dad's speech) converging upon him, and his voice was filled with a magical an inspiring resonance, "We are gathered here today to celebrate a momentous occasion – both the birth of another Lucerna, another in the line that is descended from Matalis Ortus Lucerna himself and has ruled Lucael for as long as the Kingdom of Light has existed, and my son's Angelic Descent, where an angel from the exalted and revered First Sisterhood will come from the heavens to bless Caiellis with their presence and serve him and the kingdom."

The speech was traditional, and though it was a bit pretentious Marik said it with pride in his family and for his tenacious youngest who had clung to life with all of his strength and forced his brittle body to carry on living so that he could be here now and received his Summoning, and both angels held their blades out in front of them, ready to bow respectfully to their sister that would be entering the world very soon, judging by the increase in mana that wasn't coming from Serenity or Akroma.

Marik narrowed his eyes when he sensed something strange making the breach into reality, as the candles of wisps and golden light across each side of the room and surrounding Caiellis suddenly snuffed out, an extremely dramatic and theatrical move if he had ever seen one that seemed uncharacteristic of a First Sisterhood angel, but if their power drowned out that of the lights and the angel was doing it unintentionally that was understandable. Nevertheless, he was still quite concerned about the fact that his youngest son's incubator had turned off, the golden glow that was preserving the boy's perilous hold upon life extinguished at the same time as the rest of the luminescence, though soon a purple radiance was permeating throughout the throne chamber, suggesting to Marik that either what he knew about Avacyn, the Angel of Hope wasn't a complete index of the angel's characteristics and what constituted her descent into the world of mankind, or another angel had been chosen to bless his little Caiellis.

The man felt a sense of magnificence and awe flowing through him, though it was a mixture of respect and terror he found entirely uncomfortable sending adrenaline coursing through his Lucerna veins, as well as a melancholic tinge that was completely different to anything he had ever experienced from an angel before, so the king wracked his mind and the knowledge that he had absorbed from sessions in the library as a child away from his father and duties for which potential First Sisterhood this could be, analysing each and every one of them before finding them unsuitable for the type of energy he was feeling now, one that put him on edge and had him involuntarily moving protectively towards Caiellis.

He heard Akroma snarl and switch her weapon to a ready position, the jubilance and pride that Marik had felt shattering like panes of fragile glass impacting upon a hard surface, sending millions of pieces of his happiness falling away from his mind to be replaced by nervousness and a fatherly protective instinct to defend his helpless son from this new threat, though he was certain that what was coming was an angel, as they engendered the same response in his mind and the one demon that he had fought had inspired terror and revulsion instead of awe and fear. A symbol of shining darkness had appeared at the other side of the room, a star or sun with eight points and pulsing with malevolent purple light.

There was a general murmur of confusion, some nobles placing their hands on the hilts of their weapons, but most of them instinctively knew that the being that was soon coming was an angel and so it should be obeyed instead of railed against, but then, quite clearly, Marik sensed the presence of hated Black mana and was stuck in indecision, his mind halfway between awe and hatred that prevented him from doing anything other than standing defensively in front of the neonatal incubator and behind his and Johnias's First Sisterhood angels, though he didn't dare draw his sword and blaspheme against a holy angel.

The star of dark light across from him shimmered with golden energy, and Marik registered that it was not just Black mana that was being conjured, but protective and glorious White as well, although he had been focussing too much on the former because of his hatred for it. However, the presence of both of the types of magical energy in conjunction confirmed the identity of the First Sisterhood angel that would be "gracing" his smallest son with her blessing, though Marik didn't dare think the thoughts until he was certain that what he feared was true, and, with his heart in his mouth and the drumbeat of it in his ears, Marik watched as a figure began to step out of the star of darkness – or, more precisely, the dreaded Black Sun.

She was beautiful, like every other First Sisterhood angel, majestic and terrifying in the same instance, clad in ornate golden armour and framed by huge wings the colour of midnight black that unfurled wide as she walked into the chamber out of Sancturia, Marik's dread increasing with every second as she pulled herself into reality through the portal she had created, his mind alight with, Why did it have to be her? Why did it have to be her? My poor Caiellis doesn't deserve this … Why does it have to be my son? She hasn't appeared in over a hundred years, and she hadn't ever set foot in our world before that … so why now?

The angel of darkness held a massive and ornate golden scythe with the heel moulded into a golden representation of her Black Sun symbol in her right hand, the haft made from a solid darkness while the large blade gleamed in the light from around her. Robes of black drifted behind her as she walked, flowing perfectly around her body and never impeding her graceful movements, a golden medallion dangling from her left hand and also showing the sigil of the sun of gloom that would have once been revered as a holy symbol but was now treated with scorn and fear, but not just the terror that one would show to evil beings: it was a darker horror, the dread of those that were supposed to be your protectors turning upon you in their own lust for power and the physical manifestation of a reign of darkness and greed unprecedented in the normally illustrious and successful Lucerna family and prosecuted by this seraph of darkness and light.

Her pale features were framed once by a golden collar in the shape of the Black Sun and wing like protrusions rising up from a second collar from the black leather of her clothing, a cascade of black hair flowing behind it. The dark angel had a small golden orb in the middle of her pale forehead, and tears of the same imperious metal etched underneath her eyes, which were onyx spheres that reflected purity but the potential for evil that had been shown in King Xarius's reign. Marik could see both duty and commitment in the twinkling eyes of the angel, undying loyalty that was somehow more than that of the other angels he had seen, and it went against all he had been taught about the harbinger of death and misery that had been the once worshipped Angel of the Black Sun before Xarius had used her to murder his sister the queen and forcefully take the throne and then reinforce his new reign by sending her to massacre those that stood against him with the powers of both light and darkness.

The angel had been the cause of the largest catastrophe in Lucaelian history and the largest civil war that had ever been seen as those loyal to Xarius fought against those that followed Princess Matrice, who had used the Warleader that now resided inside of his eldest son, and while Marik could well believe that this herald of radiance and gloom had caused that how she appeared now was no less impressive than any of her loyal sisters – it suddenly occurred to the king that maybe the Angel of the Black Sun had never corrupted Xarius, but the self-titled Emperor of Light may have always been narcissistic and megalomaniacal, and this dark seraph had simply followed his commands that other angels would have refused to ever even think of. Her eyes reflected loyalty, that was for certain, but it was as if that duty was to an empty void, not the exalted First Angel who all of the other divine denizens of Sancturia served, though as she looked upon her sister Akroma her lips twisted into a haughty sneer, before becoming more guilty when she gazed upon the sorrowful Serenity.

"Where is Avacyn?!" Akroma barked, hefting her gigantic Blade of Wrath and looking about ready to strike down the Angel of the Black Sun if she didn't explain herself, and the dark seraph – Marik's son's dark seraph – merely smiled mockingly back, telling her, "There has been a change of plans. I, the Angel of the Black Sun, will be blessing Caiellis Noctis Lucerna upon this day, in the tradition of the holy partnership between the Lucerna line and the First Sisterhood."

Her silken voice was like honey to Marik's ears, though the proud words carried a significantly sinister undertone and an inflection of melancholy that the angel wasn't otherwise showing and suggested a very deep sadness, and the king allowed himself to believe that the Angel of the Black Sun wasn't doing this to spite his son, rather to prove that it had been Xarius that was evil, not her. He just wished that Caiellis, his infinitely precious baby boy that had only just entered the world, wouldn't have to be "blessed" by the disgrace of the First Sisterhood that was hated by all, including the other angels – why did it have to be her? Why couldn't it have been Avacyn, the Angel of Hope that Marik could already tell would fit his youngest son very well, aptly exemplifying the hope that had driven both him and Emili when she was giving birth to him, the hope that he would survive in spite of his fragility, but this … this was just cruel.

Caiellis didn't deserve it. He would be walking into life feared and scorned by those around him but still respected as he was a Lucerna, which meant that he would be extremely lonely as the people were scared of him but would hide it underneath their reverence and use that to keep him at arm's length instead of forming a relationship with him. His fragile son, that had enough to contend with, both being the son of the king that may well inherit the throne and having his own weakness to contend with, without having to factor in the fact that he would be the host to the most hated – the only angel that was subjected to that emotion – seraphim in history.

He would have to work harder than any other Lucerna in the past to gain the adulation of the people because of something that he hadn't done and had had absolutely no part in, and receive stigma smothered under deference of the royal family but not admiration of him. He would have Black mana within him, which was another curse and another reason for people to fear him, though Marik could already tell that his son would never be another Xarius – or maybe he just couldn't see it because the boy was his own child, and, innocently asleep, no one could ever suspect him of one day becoming a tyrant. Marik resolved to make sure that Caiellis would never become one through showing him all of the love he had available and making sure that he was satisfied with life, as the other possibility was for him to be controlled and physically told that he couldn't do what Xarius would have done which would stunt his development and probably end up making him a much more cold human being than the first option, which was to treat him no differently and the one that Marik currently favoured.

"Our holy Mother would never authorise that!" Akroma snarled in indignation, blocking the Angel of the Black Sun's path to the infant with all eyes in the room glued to the confrontation, and holding her sword out in front of her.

Alexander grasped hold of his mother's hand tightly, though he was too young to have been taught about the cataclysm the angel that would be inhabiting his little brother had brought about, but could still sense that something was wrong because of what was going on.

However, because this was the first Black mana that he had ever felt before, and while he had been told about all of the five colours of mana that shaped the two intersecting realms he didn't know exactly what each of them were (apart from Black being the "bad one") and as he wasn't being told that this was Black mana he didn't see anything wrong with the angel that was going to be his little brother's, and couldn't understand why everyone seemed so scared of her. Sure, she was quite frightening, and the weapon that she had chosen to wield wasn't as glorious as a sword and was more scary than one, but there was nothing really wrong with her, but there must have been something because of the way the grown ups and the angels were acting.

Viewing her without the stigmata attached because of her Black mana and her horrific actions within Xarius's reign, Alexander couldn't work out why everyone seemed so scared and seemed to dislike her so much, but since they were he wanted to protect his new little brother from that – he hadn't even had a chance to touch him yet, much less play with him!

"Well, Akroma, as you can see Serra clearly did order it, otherwise I wouldn't be here. So I would appreciate it if you would stop obstructing this holy ceremony further, dear sister," the Angel of the Black Sun smiled, full of the arrogance and imperial haughtiness that Marik had always imagined and been told that Xarius had exhibited, though the king somehow sensed that there was a deep sorrow and even … remorse? No, that can't be right … underneath the façade of conceit and contempt that was met by Akroma's anger as she realised that her disgraced and hated sister was correct, and that if their holy Mother had chosen to give her a second chance she couldn't defy the orders even though she disagreed with them and thought that now the Angel of the Black Sun had been found she should be imprisoned and forced to repent. Even so, Akroma still maintained that her errant sister had done this without their creator's consent, but was forced to stand down as it seemed that none of her other sisters was going to arrive and denounce the angel's claims.

The dark seraph smiled derisively and winked as her sister stepped out of the way, her face full of wrath and emotion that Marik had never seen from his detatched angel before, and pacing forward two more steps before finding herself blocked by the aghast Serenity, her perfect features twisted into an expression of sadness and despair instead of the hatred her wrathful sister had shown, and the smile fell from Caiellis's angel's face, making Marik abruptly notice that she hadn't been named, not in the history books and not now, before it returned twofold, as if she was making sure that the humans around her hadn't seen the crack of her mask, the slip in her contemptuous act that had revealed the true emotion underneath, as the angel of light and peace murmured, "Sister … what are you doing here?"

The Angel of the Black Sun leaned in close to her heavenly sibling, close enough to her sister's ear so that her wings blocked out her face from being seen and the expression on it from being observed, and Serenity's horror filled expression softened and she nodded, withdrawing to the other side of the room and taking up her place opposite from Akroma, and when the dark seraphim's face was shown again she was completely serious instead of mocking, her eyes filled with nothing but duty and loyalty to the Lucerna family and the Angelic Sisterhoods in spite of her actions – or that was what Marik had originally perceived it as, but as he looked closer into her sparkling black orbs he noticed that both of those loyalties were directed at two individuals in the room – the first was Serenity, whose angelic face was cast in resolute determination, which made Marik wonder what had been said, while the other was seemingly aimed at the present occupant of the golden throne, the sleeping second son of Marik and Emili.

She walked closer, before almost giving into the temptation to roll her eyes as she noticed more people obstructing her path, though she also had to fight against the urge to glance back into the portal from where she had arrived in the Lucerna Palace from, frightened that some of her sisters might be coming after her but not willing to let Akroma nor Serenity notice that.

Emili let go of Alexander's hand, placing her own slender hands on his shoulders and gently diverting his gaze from the angels to her, so that she was looking into his scared and confused blue eyes that he had inherited from his father but were filled with her Noctis warmth, telling him softly but firmly, "Stay here, Alex. I'm just going to stand with daddy, ok?". The woman didn't wait for a response and strode to her husband's side as he opposed the unnerving Angel of the Black Sun, starting of walking shakily because of her sheer exhaustion but resolving to suck it up for the sake of her youngest son. At any rate, the jubilation that she had been filled with at such an important celebration for her new son that Emili had only delivered a few hours ago after the most painful experience of her entire life, but also one of the best only matched by her other son's birth, had dissolved away, replaced with apprehension, anxiety and concern for her sleeping baby who was blissfully unaware of the confrontation happening in the same room as him, and as of yet didn't look too troubled by the removal of the mana incubator's power supply.

Marik turned to her, his eyes full of surprise at her coming to his side, and Emili shook her head as if to say: "What did you expect?" before filling her green eyes with determination and placing a hand on Marik's arm, both to comfort him and to find stability – physical and emotional – in the solid and strong form of her husband, squeezing it tightly to show that nothing would come in between them and their sons' safety, not even a First Sisterhood angel if they were the ones that were threatening their children. Marik clearly thought that as she wasn't a Lucerna she should just leave this to him, but Emili didn't care that it would be child's play for the Angel of the Black Sun to carve her apart with that rather frightening scythe of hers, and would rather she got hurt than her innocent and vulnerable son.

"I – we – will not let you hurt Caiellis," the king uttered, drawing upon his suddenly lacking reserves of confidence that he had built up for himself in his years of forcing himself to act as an exemplary Lucerna, and because he found that lacking instead took strength from his parental determination to prevent any harm from coming to his beloved children and his need to protect his beautiful wife to stare down the Angel of the Black Sun. Both Johnias, who was hefting his elegant twin swords, Fortune and Peace, to the left of the king, and Emili, who felt left out without any form of weaponry, to her husband's right, nodded in agreement of the statement.

The Angel of the Black Sun stared back at them, though to her credit she didn't seem surprised at all for the father and mother of the child she had selected – the only infant barring Xarius that she had ever been able to choose – opposing her at this final stage, and while it would have been contemptuously easy to wipe them off the face of the kingdom the seraph thought that perhaps that course of action wasn't the most suitable to take if she ever wanted Caiellis to like her. Additionally, she couldn't really blame the parents or the Summoner of Serenity, the boy's uncle, but instead of ordering them out of her way and since no one else apart from them could see her face she let the mocking and derisive persona slip and presented them with what she had shown to Serenity, though they were a modification of her genuine feelings and not what she was truly thinking.

"I'm not going to hurt Caiellis, King Marik," she told them simply, but infused the words with the heartfelt truth of them. She could waste time explaining how it would be utterly detrimental and incredibly counterproductive for her to harm the infant that she had chosen to be her second Summoner, but right now all they needed to know was that she had no plans to harm their son/nephew. She honestly felt relatively sorry for the baby, as he would have to contend with the shame of something that he couldn't be blamed for at all, but this boy was her last chance to prove herself, to prove that she wasn't evil – for all she pretended to be sarcastic and mocking and enjoy the hatred of her sisters, all she had ever wanted was to be accepted for who she was, and this would help her achieve that.

Marik looked deep within the angel's black eyes that showed the cold expanse of the void but twinkled with the light of loyalty and prosperity, and knew that for all he didn't want the only angel that had ever betrayed the Kingdom of Light that her sisters had blessed and protected for millennia to be his youngest son's Summoning, didn't want the boy to be subjected to prejudice and discrimination from his birth that was none of his fault, he knew that ultimately there was nothing he could do to stop her if it had been ordered by the First Angel. He nodded his head solemnly, hoping that his little Caiellis wouldn't feel the effects of it too much or have a horrible life because of it and cursing the angel's selfishness, though he could tell that the Angel of the Black Sun wanted to atone for her past mistakes through his youngest son.

Marik wished that his son would be able to prove that it was the man that had been evil, not the angel in spite of her dual nature of light and darkness, and silently promised that he would be there every step of the way to help the boy through it and make sure that he felt loved and wanted for all he was shown scorn and terror by those that may well one day become his subjects, and that the people would one day learn to remove their grudge, though he could already see resentful and disdainful stares directed at the inactive neonatal support unit that held his son from the figures on either side of the crowd, though there were some that were full of pity.

He was about to silently acquiesce and move to the side, before a woman's voice rang out, full of defiance and a protective resonance, "You'd better not. I don't care that you are an exalted angel, and that I am only an insignificant mortal, but if you lay a hand on my son with the intent to do harm, or do anything that will make his life worse in any way, then I will make you pay."

Marik shot a worried glance at Emili before flicking his eyes up to the angel, hoping that she hadn't taken offence from the words, but if anything the seraph nodded soberly, the words of the queen and the mother of the boy she had selected as a Summoner speaking to her heart, though it was clear that it hadn't been directed at her just because of her Black mana and the actions she had undertaken in Xarius's time on the throne, but because she was in a position to ruin Caiellis's hard-earned life before it even started, and made the Angel of the Black Sun feel incredibly selfish because while she had wanted Xarius to make her as glorified as her sisters, she had been going to use Caiellis to restore her tarnished reputation with no thought for the boy himself, leaping at the chance that another Lucerna with intrinsic Black mana presented, but she would make sure to cherish and protect the boy, that was for certain – though she utterly refused to have a repeat of the "Xarius incident" and so would be a lot harsher on Caiellis then she was on her former Summoner.

"If it is any consolation," the angel began, her voice a quiet murmur at too low a volume to be heard by any of the occupants of the room other than the two Lucernas and the one that had married into their family, "I haven't created Caiellis's Black mana. It has been within him ever since he was conceived."

She inclined her head in the direction of the incubator, where a single shaft of purple light that came from the ornate stained glass windows above illuminated the child within, and Marik gasped when he saw the shadows rising up around Caiellis, tendrils of darkness stroking and wrapping around the helpless boy as he whimpered, his tiny face screwed up in pain, his breathing getting faster but his breaths getting shorter by comparison, though his eyes were screwed shut. He only just resisted the urge to rush to his side and carry him out of the incubation unit, knowing that that would be the death of him and the only thing that would stop it would be the Angel of the Black Sun.

Marik nodded once again, swallowing nervously and feeling more useless than ever, powerless to soothe his baby boy's pain and unable to protect him, and quickly moved out of the way of the angel, dragging his wife forcefully but still gently with him and tenderly making her sit down before she collapsed out of exhaustion, Emili still looking like she wasn't convinced by the angel's promise to not hurt their second child, and as Johnias went to the opposite side of the hall the path was left clear for the Angel of the Black Sun. Apart from one more small defender who blocked the final few metres to Caiellis Noctis Lucerna.

"Alexander!" both Marik and Emili exclaimed at their eldest son stood protectively in front of their youngest, evidently having disobeyed his mum's orders to stay put. He looked smaller than ever in front of the large and imposing angel that stood in front of him, and Marik tried not to visualise the seraphim effortlessly carving him apart with her huge scythe, and the blonde held the training sword that Johnias had given him today in front of him, like it would be able to do anything to a member of the exalted First Sisterhood. The four year old said, his voice full of child-like determination that nevertheless made Marik incredibly proud of him, though he was concerned for his safety but couldn't get to him without pushing the angel out of his way, and she seemed like she wasn't going to hurt Caiellis's brother either so was going to avoid that for now, copying what his parents had said, "I won't let you hurt my little brother!" and stamping his foot in verification and reinforcement of the statement.

The angel regarded the boy in front of her with annoyance, knowing that she needed to get to her new Summoner soon before his fragile body gave out because of the deactivation of the machine that had been keeping him alive, but as she looked into the blue eyes of Alexander she saw that he didn't hate her, nor did he detest her like the other Lucaelians did, he was simply possessed of the need to safeguard his vulnerable younger sibling. She knew that this boy would be one of the most important people in Caiellis's life, especially because he wouldn't show him any discrimination due to the fact that he didn't yet know about the reign of the Emperor of Light, and if the seraph wanted his opinion to stay like that and have him see her as a blessing to Caiellis, not a curse, and not have his views changed when he did learn about Xarius, she needed to assuage his worries and protective instinct.

"Are you scared of me, Alexander Ensis Lucerna?" the angel asked, kneeling down to the boy's height but coming no closer to him or her objective behind him, leaning on her scythe as she looked into his frightened blue eyes. She suppressed a smirk when the boy shook his head vehemently, as if disgusted by the mention of the mere fact that he could be scared, and while she thought it was quite brave of him to stand up against an angel of death Alexander obviously didn't know what she had done, nor what she was capable of doing, nor had seen anyone die before. The eldest prince tightly squeezed the handle of the wooden sword Johnias had bought him with a white knuckled grip, as if drawing courage from the training weapon that wouldn't even scratch the metal of the Angel of the Black Sun's armour, and to support the gesture that he was still making he said, "No, I'm not scared."

The angel flicked her onyx eyes to the painfully whimpering baby behind Alexander, and then to the king and his wife who looked as if they were going to intervene, their eyes full of worry for their brave but also foolish eldest son who the seraph hoped would treat his little brother to the same standard in the future and therefore would be a valuable asset to young Caiellis. She kept her awe-inspiring visage impassive but still vaguely friendly to show that Alexander currently had nothing to fear from her, though she was relatively impressed that the four year old would get in her way to protect a baby that he had only known for a few hours and had never had a conversation with. She then asked, "Then do you hate me, young one?"

The child shook his head again, though with much less vigorousness than the first time, and slowly lowered his sword, although he didn't put it away, telling her sternly, "I'll only hate you if you hurt my little brother."

"I'm not going to hurt young Caiellis," the Angel of the Black Sun made her voice resolute and serious, and the boy nodded for the third time, convinced that she was telling the truth – which she was, it was just that while she didn't intend to overtly hurt Caiellis she firstly wanted the Summoning trial that she would present him with to be incredibly hard and also mysterious, requiring a certain type of mind to work out – which meant that if Caiellis wasn't right for her then he would probably never be able to Summon her and would live the rest of his life in shame (though the Lucaelians would most likely be secretly glad that she couldn't enter the world through him), and secondly she couldn't account for what others would do because of his new position as the host of the Angel of the Black Sun.

Alexander moved out of the way of the angel, running quickly to his mum and dad, both of whom had held their hands out so he grabbed hold of one each and stood in between them, watching the angel with wide and innocent eyes as she let go of her scythe, though it didn't obey the laws of most things that Alex had ever seen and remained upright instead of falling over, and raised the medallion of the Black Sun above the inactive neonatal support unit. Both Marik and Emili wanted to talk to their eldest son, but that could wait until the Angelic Descent ritual had been completed, as the two sensed the mana levels of equal amounts of White and Black mana reaching a breaking point, the former only more present because of the two other First Sisterhood angels watching as well.

The Angel of the Black Sun was speaking softly, quietly singing words that blended into a tune that sprung up in the background, the shadows wrapping around the king and queen's infant son being repelled by shining golden light and crackling coruscations of purple lightning that fulminated through the sigil and around Caiellis, Marik remembering when his eldest son had been surrounded by incandescent and radiant golden fire and wondered what his own ritual would have been like, since he had never asked anyone, but assumed that it would have been the same as all of the other times Akroma had entered the world and been bonded with a Lucaelian child.

Imperious golden light spilled across Marik's baby boy, but instead of removing the shadows it blended with them in a way that the king had never seen before and had never been able to visualise the magic of light and dark interacting and bonding in such a way; the man had to resist the urge to run to the boy when he heard him crying softly and squeezing his tiny hands into tight fists, knowing that the ritual had to be completed and that it had been painful for Alexander as well (though of course neither of his sons would remember, and he supposed it would have been just as agonising for the infant him), though because the first-born son of him and Emili had been stronger physically he had been better equipped to deal with it than Caiellis was now.

The Angel of the Black Sun's voice became sterner and louder, enunciating words that Marik had never heard before as the maelstrom of luminescence and tenebrosity swirling around his son began to coalesce more prominently around him, golden coated shadows mingling with coils of incandescent darkness and discharges of purple energy and flowing around his baby boy, saturating the air with the pure power of a First Sisterhood angel, as it was incredibly easy to forget that just because Xarius's unique angel had followed his evil commands she was still a member of the pinnacle of the angelic hierarchy and as such possessed of massive amounts of mana.

He only wished that his son didn't have to contend with an angel that had murdered massive amounts of innocents, but seeing her up close had made Marik understand that she seemingly had no plans of doing something like that again and that it was Xarius that had been evil, not her. Or that was what he wanted to believe, anyway, as he couldn't deal with the thought of his youngest son being abused and controlled by the only betrayer of the Angelic Sisterhoods, and perhaps she was trying to hide it so that no one would intervene, which, if that had been her intention, they had all walked into her trap. Marik realised with a start that he had just let the Angel of the Black Sun, the angel that had murdered thousands of loyal Lucaelian souls in the service of the only evil Lucerna in history, walk straight past him and use his youngest son to further her own plans. Of course there was no way that the First Angel had allowed this to happen! How stupid had he been?

The king cursed himself for his stupidity, but he had been convinced by the angel's seemingly genuine want to protect and serve his vulnerable and easily exploitable youngest son, but it was far too late to stop it now and if he did he would be killing Caiellis, who wouldn't be able to hold that much energy in his fragile body without something within him controlling it for him, and the fact that he, Johnias, Emili, Akroma and Serenity – who had more cause that him to hate her – had been convinced by the Angel of the Black Sun had to be sufficient for him now, since there was nothing else he could do. He told himself that, when his son passed his Summoning trial, he would make sure that the angel within him wasn't trying to manipulate or corrupt him, though apart from that he wouldn't mention it that much to Caiellis or make him feel in any way unwelcome or unloved because of it.

He already loved the boy more than anything else in the world apart from his other son and wife, and knew that there was no way he would show stigma to him because of which angelic member of the First Sisterhood had chosen him and because he had Black mana inside of him, as it was just another, more different burden for the boy to bear that his family would help him through, another dark power that had been gifted to him and should be used responsibly. Marik reminded himself that because his son had both White and Black mana – a powerful combination that he had never seen before but whose first recorded user almost overturned the entire kingdom with – within him from birth, and never sought out the power of the latter, he wouldn't abuse it since if the seriousness out it was impressed upon Caiellis and he had never asked for it would mean that he wouldn't use it for evil purposes, though Xarius had been born with it – though he had hidden it from everyone until the time of his coup d'état came – and turned out evil.

It was Marik's duty to make his son always feel loved and wanted so that he would never turn to his inner darkness for power, in spite of what the rightly afraid people of the kingdom might try, though for some reason the father had already decided that his baby son was a kind and considerate soul that wouldn't misuse the deadly power and Lucerna responsibility given to him, and while there was no logic behind a parental love to that claim it was what the king was thinking of as he gripped Alexander's hand tightly as the shaft of light illuminating his son rose in dark intensity to paradoxically blinding strength that Marik would have looked away from had this been any child other than his son that it had been subjected to. Instead, he covered Alexander's eyes with one large hand, the boy immediately beginning to pull at it with the tiny hands of his own so that he could see what was going on, and looked straight into the pillar of shining dark light blasting into his son as the maelstrom of radiant darkness around him pulsated and coiled round the beam.

The Angel of the Black Sun leaned down into the incubator, and, in a moment of gentleness utterly out of place with the destructive energies flowing around Caiellis, kissed the boy on his pale and small right cheek, the angel's lips leaving a small mark of darkness and light there as she pulled away and held the medallion above the placed where she had touched the boy, Caiellis's young eyes opening as the combined force of light and darkness flowed into him, crashing through the air and pouring into his cheek as he cried loudly now, tears of shining incandescence and dripping shadow cascading down each of his cheeks, the former to the right and the latter to the left side of his face, until the output of blinding energy rose to such a level that Marik with his protected Lucerna eyes and the blessing of the holy crown was forced to look away, though only for a second.

When he, tentatively at first but much quicker when the light faded from the interior of his retinas, reopened his eyes, the Angel of the Black Sun had vanished, and his son was back asleep again, as if he had roused from the realm of dreams only for a short amount of time before falling back into his slumber, and all eyes were on the king and his son as Marik walked towards the incubator that had activated again, thrumming peacefully as his son was breathing normally again. Caiellis now had a black stain – no, do not think of it like that! It is his birthright, a blessing not a curse, and he will use it to attain glory and renown just like every other Lucerna – the Black Sun symbol, imprinted upon the place where the dark seraph had kissed him, and Marik vaguely felt the other First Sisterhood angels departing as he gazed down at his sleeping son, the tears of gloom and light faded but leaving normal tracks stark against the boy's pale face, though where they had touched the Lucerna birthmark it glowed a kind of peaceful purple. That was Caiellis's colour, he decided. One part of his room had to have that colour in it.

He felt a hand being placed on his shoulder, and turned around to see the grim face of Johnias, who gave his younger twin brother a smile that failed to reach his serious eyes, though Marik was certain that his sibling wouldn't persecute his son for it either, confirmed by, "It's alright, Marik. Yes, Caiellis may now have the Angel of the Black Sun inside of him and as his Summoning, that doesn't mean anything. He's not gonna be evil, bro, trust me on that. He's not going to be another Xarius."

"I know," he replied, his voice little more than a whisper as he shook his head while looking down at his blissfully unaware son, who was curling up within his blankets again and wearing something akin to a smile on his young face, though whether he was doing it on purpose or not was unknown to the king, who was filled with love for his baby boy and wished that the Angel of the Black Sun hadn't chosen him as her Summoner, but she had, and there was no point wasting time thinking about it now. All that there was to do now was look to the future by improving the present, to make Caiellis's life the same as any other Lucerna's childhood so that he didn't feel discriminated against because of his … "unique" First Sisterhood angel, and so that there was no way he could fall to the darkness like Xarius had done. At any rate, Marik didn't want him to know about it until he was old enough to truly understand that it didn't make him a monster, though he wouldn't be able to hide all the stares and fear from him.

"I think that there is only one thing that can be done now, my lord," an imposing voice that reminded Marik of his father very well boomed across the room, and the king spun around to see Hierarch Incedian of Civitas Sol at the other side of the room, having evidently arrived whilst the ritual was already under way, with Guardian Malleus and his seventeen year old student Oleic stood next to him.

The former was swathed in imperious golden robes and had been one of Garius's staunchest supporters and Marik's main decriers when he had inherited the throne, much favouring Johnias over him, though he had of course obeyed the new ruler – just objected against everything he did at every single turn. However, Marik couldn't get rid of him because of how well he was respected, and because of the fact that the former Hierarch Tybalt of Capitalia Lux who was the same age as Incedian had stepped down the people naturally looked for a spiritual leader who was aged and wise instead of someone new to the role (though Marik liked young Hierarch Mithres). Incedian was a manifestation of the older Lucael, the ancient traditions and the way that Lucael had been ruled within his father's realm with a xenophobic hatred of all outsiders instead of seeing their benefits – as trade with the other nations had brought huge amounts of prosperity and technology to the Kingdom of Light that it would have been bereft of without Marik's alliance with the Yentarian Republic.

The aged Hierarch, while he was smaller than he had been in his middle age and had never been a particularly huge man, still commanded a vast amount of attention and had a massive presence, and added to the fact that his eyes were the colour of golden sunlight after being almost blinded by his first glance at the sun when he looked at it in all its glory it gave him a terrifying stare that he was now levelling at the king. He had short white hair on his head, but a large moustache and beard of the same colour that instead of making him look friendly gave him an even more grandiose appearance, and as he walked through the space that the dark seraph of Xarius had only minutes earlier his large golden staff clacked on the floor, topped with a sun symbol of five points (the last would have gone into the staff's handle) and surrounded by two priests, one both carrying censers of burning leaves from the gardens underneath Civitas Sol and blindly ignoring the fact that only the palace servants were allowed in the Lucerna throne room.

Guardian Malleus was a silent giant of a man clad in golden armour etched with ornate sun symbols that Marik personally detested because of the fact that he wasn't in any way suitable for the role of Guardian – yes, he was good at fighting and protecting the Hierarch, but he had no individuality of his own and was content simply to serve and follow orders to the letter instead of form his own opinions and be a thinking warrior, something that the current king of three years wanted out of his Light-bearers. He held a massive hammer as he walked behind the Hierarch, tailed by his tall apprentice who shot Tristram a glower as they walked in. Malleus had stony features, and his grey eyes were like orbs of unyielding granite.

"Which is?" Marik asked, barely bothering to increase his hostility, his anger fuelled by the injustice done to his youngest son that he stood protectively in front of, and the fact that Incedian was everything he hated about Lucaelian society – he was haughty, heavily religious to the point of being severely blinded by his faith, narrow-minded, ethnocentric, conservative and afraid of change, but most of all because he clearly had serious problems with the way that Marik did things but hadn't got the courage to overtly oppose him because of the fact that he was a Lucerna and Incedian was just a humble subject, in spite of all his platitudes and bluster.

The man strode down the central pathway between the two sides of nobles, though most of them were too shocked by the reappearance of the hated Angel of the Black Sun to do anything other than stare at the incubator in horror, which Alexander noticed so he stood in front of his little brother's glass tank in an attempt to stop them from looking at him like that, joined by his proud but shocked mother who grasped his hand reassuringly and whispered a few encouraging words in his ear, smiling down at him in spite of her apprehension, similar thoughts to those of Marik running through her head but with less emphasis on the duty of ruling and more focus on making Caiellis happy with life.

"Is it not obvious?" was would Incedian would clearly like to have barked out, but instead he composed himself in front of his king and lord, who had to resist the urge to smirk arrogantly at him – though he probably wouldn't have been able to manage it, and stated gravely, "The Angel of the Black Sun must not be allowed to corrupt another Lucerna infant. The Kingdom of Light cannot have another repeat of Xarius's unholy reign. I suggest that, to prevent such an awful cataclysm that almost ended our nation from ever happening again, we end the potential for a tyrannical reign now by ending the life of the young prince."

The way he spoke was like an oratory, and Marik would have sensed that he was speaking in that way to engender support from his flock – the audience of nobles, Light-bearers and other influential figures from all across Lucael that had been able to make it – if he could get any thoughts out past his rage at such a course of action being suggested. The Hierarch of the City of the Sun continued, making his voice much louder and holding his arms to the side, his golden and white robes spilling out underneath them, capturing the attention of the horrified individuals around him, "With respect, King Marik, you already have one exemplary son-"

"HOW DARE YOU!" the king shouted, interrupting him mid sentence, his words suffused with an anger that he had never felt in such intensity before at the mere suggestion that his youngest son was to be put to the sword because of the fact that some angel that had done awful things over a hundred years ago, and Marik already knew that Caiellis would turn out nothing like the Emperor of Light because of the fact that he wouldn't be neglected or ignored in favour of his siblings, because when Xarius had been born his fifteen years older sister, Queen Wendicia (who he had murdered to claim the throne from) was already ruling the nation after the death of their father, and as she had had children at eighteen the young Xarius had never had any chance of obtaining the throne ever since he was three.

However, this sort of behaviour, this mistrust and fear and willingness to kill a child because of something more than a century had done with the same Summoning had done was the exact thing that would end up replicating Xarius's reign. Johnias quickly turned around to his raging brother, placing his hands on Marik's forearms and looking him in the eyes, the fact that he had always been slightly taller (and physically stronger, at least in Johnias's opinion from the wrestling they had done in the past) than his brother working in his favour, though he almost expected Marik to tear out of his grip and hack the Hierarch, who was recovering swiftly from the shock and preparing to launch another point, apart with his greatsword.

"I will handle this, Marik," Johnias told him sternly, not wanting his brother's anger – that the boy's uncle clearly felt judging by his eyes, but obviously with much lesser intensity because Caiellis wasn't his own child – to get the better of him and make him do something that he would regret later, and Marik almost wrenched out of his grip, hissing, "I will not let him – or any of them – hurt my son! Emili almost died delivering Caiellis, and it was a miracle that he survived at all. And I will not allow them to lay a finger on him with the intent to harm because the Angel of the Black Sun is now his Summoning!"

"I know, I know," the older of the two placated, increasing the strength of his grip on his brother's arm to the point where it would probably leave bruises, but the way that Marik was about to break out would not bode well for Incedian, who Johnias personally despised as well, "I'm angry as well, Marik, I mean, he's my little nephew, and since I have no children of my own yet him and Alexander are the closest things I've got to them. I'll make sure that Caiellis comes to no harm, you have my word as your older brother on that. I don't care that the Angel of the Black Sun has returned after over a hundred years, I won't let him be hurt or even killed. But you are clearly too understandably angry to do this. Just stay with your family and make sure that they are alright."

"I … Thank you, Johnias," the king responded, still trembling with anger, and Johnias slowly released his painful grip on his arms, Marik seeing sense in his brother's calm and logical words as he knew that he would never be able to stay composed and collected in an absurd discussion about his son's life. The man smiled back at him, replying, "Don't sweat it. That's what big brothers are here for. Besides, ultimately, they can't do anything to Caiellis if we order it. We are exalted Lucernas. They are our subjects."

Marik forced a grin that he didn't feel in any way at the attempted joke, choosing to overlook that once again his twin brother had referred to himself as a "big brother" when they were the same age, though the teasing did put him slightly more at ease. He turned around to his wife and eldest, who looked scared at his loud outburst, while Emili herself was shaking with anger at what had been suggested happen to her baby boy that she had gone through so much pain to give life to, though she tried not to give that away to Alexander. Marik picked up his eldest son and held him tight in his arms, drawing comfort from his innocence and the fact that he loved both his sons so damn much, and just wished that he could hold Caiellis as well and assure him that he wouldn't allow these people to hurt him.

"I for one agree wholeheartedly with Hierarch Incedian," Hierarch Francis walked out of the crowd and took his place by the similarly aged Light-bearer of Civitas Sol, who nodded his approval, "This boy, Prince Caiellis, could well be the end of our kingdom if he ever inherits the throne, and I for one do not want my grandchildren – or any of the kingdom's children – to be forced to live through the reign of a tyrant, much less if no one succeeds in overthrowing him and he destroys the entire nation in his lust for power."

"That assumes that Caiellis will lust for power, Francis," Hierarch Martha, another venerable Light-bearer but one that was much more to Marik's liking, spoke up from the gathering as well, though because there weren't that many people there each person that spoke could easily be looked at and given space, "Which is entirely unreasonable. We already know that the identity of a Lucerna's angel, or even any Summoner's assigned Sancturia creature, while it can shape their personality and give advice, does not dictate how they will live their lives. By that line of reasoning, Hierarch Francis, your angel, Basandra the Battle Seraph, failed to save the life of King Garius I when he was assassinated – does that mean you will fail in your service to the Lucerna line as well? I should certainly hope not."

Francis looked cowed for now, and Emili shot her former mentor a grateful glance, though she sensed that Martha wasn't doing it solely because Caiellis was the son of one of her students, but because she didn't believe in murdering an innocent child because of what their angelic Summoning was. Then Hierarch Incedian replied with, "Well we all knew that you wouldn't support the prevention of another reign of Xarius, didn't we?"

"And why is that?" the aged woman snapped back, glaring at the Hierarch of Civitas Sol as there were nods of agreement in the audience, Guardian Weiss placing a restraining hand on her shoulder to prevent any possibility of Martha doing something stupid, though it was more for the comfort than any chance of the tact and venerable woman attacking another Hierarch. The two had argued many times in the past, as the viewpoints of Scientia Mos – the city that had arguably benefited most from the Lucael/Yentar alliance – and Civitas Sol were quite different, and represented that way in their Light-bearers. Incedian simply gazed back, unfazed, "Your City of Books suffered by far the least under Xarius's reign, especially because Queen Matrice made her headquarters there and fought away the tyrant's armies. Your people never had to live under the mad king's rule, and by far the least Lucaelians died in your metropolis."

"Why does that matter? None of us were alive during Xarius's tyranny, and the entire kingdom felt the impact of his sovereignty. Yes, your cities may have suffered worse than Scientia Mos, but that means nothing because the kingdom is not made up of eight individual cities – it is a nation, and all of us share it. And you are making the same presumptions as Hierarch Francis that Hierarch Martha mentioned in assuming that simply because Prince Caiellis has inherited the Angel of the Black Sun he will turn out evil like Xarius, which is infinitely more likely if you treat him with mistrust and suspicion instead of accepting who he is," Johnias cut in seriously, nodding respectfully to Martha who inclined her head back, about to reply in a similar manner but glad that a Lucerna with more weight behind his words had said them, "And Caiellis is my nephew; I won't allow him to be killed because of what is inside of him. It would be unprecedented and severely wrong."

There was grumbling from the two sides of the audience between figures who accepted the side of the living Lucernas in the argument and those who backed Incedian's claims, though Emili knew that division was exactly what the kingdom did not need at this time, as it was the most prosperous it had ever been and enmity between two sides now could destabilise that, but didn't add her own viewpoint because she knew that it was immensely biased and she would find it hard to keep her voice level, as while she was the wife of a Lucerna she was not a descendant of Matalis Ortus Lucerna herself and as such it would not be forgiven as lightly, nor did the people feel any particular loyalty to her.

Then Teylaisian Illustri, the Guardian of Vectura who was only just older than the king and Johnias though had no children of his own (as his daughter had died when she was two years old because of a demonic disease she had caught, and his wife had taken her own life after that), cleared his throat loudly, the tall warrior armoured in glinting dark steel attracting the attention of the nobles around him, "With all due respect, Lord Johnias, Prince Caiellis now has Black mana inside of him because of the Angel of the Black Sun, and the magic of darkness cannot be tolerated no matter where it resides. Xarius taught us that, and a Lucerna, an avatar of holy White mana and the blessings of the Sancturia Angels, cannot have such a foul energy inside of him without corrupting his Lucerna purity. Even if he isn't a monster like the Emperor of Light, the prince may still be unable to control it and invite demons inside of the kingdom who would happily feast upon a Lucerna of light and darkness. Ending his life now would have many benefits: utterly preventing a replication of Xarius's occupation of the angel-given throne, stopping any malicious demons from getting their hands on him that could divert him to the side of the abyss if he isn't already on it, and freeing him from having to live with such a curse all of his life. As Incedian said, Prince Alexander is already the perfect descendant, and while I can appreciate that you do not want to have to end the life of your own son, I know from experience that sometimes it is the only way to ease their pain. As you all know my young daughter was possessed by a demon at only three years of age through the form of a disease, and I was forced to kill her to prevent her from being corrupted and turned against the kingdom. This is the same as that."

"No it is not!" a gruff voice barked, and all faces turned towards a fuming Guardian Xathan, one of the two Light-bearers of Civitas Sol who marched to the side of Johnias and stood there resolutely, as if he was daring any of the ones that were advocating the death of the youngest prince to come and just try to get to Caiellis past his broadsword. He continued, making his voice slightly less of an angry shout, "This is not the same as your poor daughter's case, Teylaisian, as she was possessed by a demon whereas Lord Caiellis has an angel as a Summoning, albeit an angel that can use the power of darkness. While I am truly sorry for what happened to you, as I couldn't bear the thought of any of my three kids being hurt, much less having to kill them to stop them becoming a host for a bastard demon, Prince Caiellis cannot be treated in the same way. First, he is a Lucerna, and killing one of them is considered heresy by some of you, and two the power of darkness doesn't automatically mean that he is evil. And are you forgetting that before he turned Xarius used his angel to carve out swathes of territory and defeat hordes of invaders from the abyss? The power of White and Black mana combined could be a valuable military asset."

"I agree completely," Hierarch Mithres, the youngest of the Light-bearers at the age of just nineteen, though he had proven himself to be an exemplary figure in the fields of running a city and delivering religious sermons, met at Xathan's side, dwarfed by the much larger man, "Prince Caiellis could help us understand much more about our ancient enemy, as while we have fought the vile denizens of the abyss for over a thousand years we know little to nothing about them in spite of what we have been told by the angels, which means that we are almost fighting them blind and on the defensive – if we face an enemy we can quantify, like when our esteemed king's father destroyed the dastardly Grafnica Dominion, we can defeat them. The child could be the key to finally ridding ourselves of the abyss that blocks out the light of the angels and makes us live out our lives in fear, and you fools are suggesting that we kill him before he's even lived a day!"

"Watch your tongue when speaking in the presence of your elders, boy!" Incedian snapped, turning his fiery and austere gaze upon the defiant youth, who brushed his fringe out of his eyes before glaring back, "What you are saying is tantamount to heresy! It seems like you may have an unhealthy fascination with the darkness, Mithres, that should be purged by days of holy repentance in the churches you are supposed to be running! And how dare you say that we should be using the power of darkness to combat the darkness, as that makes us no better than the demons and heretics we wish to strike down! The divine Lucerna family and the holy angels have lead us through the millennia and protected us from the predations of the unholy abyss, and you would countenance using that sacrilegious power?"

"You just contradicted yourself," Mithres replied mildly, continuing before the fuming Hierarch of Civitas Sol could explode in righteous rage, "You said that the powers of the Lucerna family and the First Sisterhood angels that bless them were holy, and then that the mana young Caiellis has inside of him is sinful? How can it be if that power belongs to an exalted Lucerna? Who are you to say that the angels haven't blessed Prince Caiellis with that power so that he can use it for the greater good? Who are you to question the divine plan of the heavens, Hierarch Incedian?"

Alexander didn't understand what these people were talking about, or why some of them were suggesting that his baby brother be killed because of the awesome angel that everyone had seemed scared of (though he wasn't, he was just as brave as daddy and Uncle Johnias and he wasn't afraid of anything) was now inside of him, though obviously they were frightened of the angel and probably wanted to kill Caiellis now so that they didn't have to see her again in the future, and to spare the kingdom from "another reign of Xarius", whatever that meant, as Alex couldn't remember being taught about a king called Xarius, not that he paid that much attention into boring history lessons unless they talked about the angels of his family or the weapons that his great-great-great-great (etc) grandparents had used.

Nevertheless, he wasn't going to let them hurt Caiellis, because his little brother was too small and weak to defend himself so it was Alexander's job as a big brother to do that, and smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring to the little baby, who was rubbing his eyes tiredly and looking exhausted but startled at all of the loud voices in the room, his green eyes that reminded the four year old of their mum flicking to and from the shouting adults and the unfamiliar environment. Alex let go of his mum's hand and clambered up onto the throne beside the incubator, Cai's eyes locking onto him and following his movements, vague recognition making the baby more at ease, though he still seemed scared and wrapped the blanket around himself further, huddling down in the fabric and getting ready to cry until all of the loud noises went away.

"Shhh," Alex told the infant boy when he opened his mouth to scream, Caiellis looking over at his brother when he pressed his face to the glass and his mouth, narrowing his eyes at the symbol that he had seen on the angel on his baby brother's right cheek, and as if he sensed the scrutiny of it he placed his small hand to the black birthmark. Alex worked out that with his brother looking at him through the glass, just like he could see himself flipped round Caiellis would be able to see his own reflection in the glass, though Alexander was impressed that the baby knew that the thing that it would show wasn't another person since Cai didn't know what he looked like. Mummy had been right: Cai was a smart baby, just like apparently Alex was.

The eldest prince blocked out the sounds of the arguing that quite frankly scared – no, he didn't get scared, but he couldn't think of another word for it so not-scared would have to do – of it, as his little brother hadn't done anything wrong and didn't deserve to die. Alex would go and say that and join in the argument, but he didn't want to since his daddy wasn't and so he shouldn't either, and knew that he didn't yet understand some adult things so wouldn't be able to help Uncle Johnias or Mithres, who sometimes patted Alexander fondly on the head, but Alex didn't like him all that much because he wasn't as big and strong as the other people he idolised, though he was friendly and nice and sometimes helped Alex with his school work. He focussed on his little brother, who he couldn't find any reasons for wanting to kill, and smiled at him, proud of this younger person who had figured out what a reflection was already, though he wouldn't know the name for it. Or perhaps the birthmark on his cheek hurt, as Alex knew that it had been freshly put onto his brother, so maybe that was it.

"That's your Lucerna birthmark," Alex informed him, although he didn't know if Cai understood or not because he was still a baby and still technically stupid, though the four year old hoped that wouldn't last long and he would be able to actually talk to his brother and have him reply – anyway, he liked doing it, and could feel in his heart that Caiellis liked his big brother talking to him as well, as he looked at Alex with his cute wide green eyes. Mummy had mentioned something about sibling rivalries to him once, which was linked with the older brother or sister becoming jealous of the new one, but Alex thought that was silly and didn't feel envious of the attention his little brother and had been receiving at all, because it meant that he could go and play and have fun instead of having to be the centre of attention.

He shifted closer to the glass so that Cai could see him better, tapping it when his brother's gaze drifted to where the old man that Alex couldn't remember the name of but who had spoken first after his brother's ceremony exploded in a particularly loud shout, telling him sternly, "Don't be scared, Cai. I'm gonna protect you, because I'm your big brother – and so are mummy, Uncle Johnias and daddy, as well as loads of other people." The boy slowly turned his head back to Alexander when he tapped impatiently on the glass again, attracting the attention of Emili who decided not to warn him to stop when she saw that her youngest was awake and quite clearly scared out the shouting and arguing as her brother in law launched a barrage of points that she was incredibly grateful for, but would have been frightening to the younger members of the room.

Instead of letting go of Marik and going to them, she let Alex speak to his little brother for a bit longer, enjoying watching her two innocent sons "conversing" (as it was rather one sided) and looking forward to the point where both would be able to participate. She wanted to speak to both of them, but right now Emili was content to watch her adorable little boys interacting without outside interference, her face forming a smile at Alexander's words in spite of the direness of the overall situation, and his innocence at the fact that because he didn't know about Xarius yet he hadn't condemned his little brother.

"So, as I was saying, that's your Lucerna birthmark," Alex repeated now that he had his little brother's attention, making Emili grin at the phrase that her little monster had definitely picked up from her, though she turned her attention back to the argument concerning her innocent son's continued existence. Alex pushed his right arm to the glass, struggling with the sleeve of the outfit he was wearing for a short moment before managing to pull it up far enough so that the Swords of Flame on the bicep could be seen. "I have one as well, see? These are called the Swords of Flame."

Adorably, Caiellis mimicked Alexander's motions of pulling up an imaginary sleeve that he didn't have on his own body, before glancing bemusedly at the fact that the flesh of his thin arm was bare instead of having a symbol there like his big brother had. He looked up at Alex, who was still showing him his own birthmark, and then down at his arm again, and then back up at Alexander, who was beginning to realise what he was doing so snorted, "No, don't be silly. You don't have the Swords of Flame. Me, you, daddy and Uncle Johnias each have a different one, though they all mean the same thing which is basically that we are awesome, though I'm not so sure about you yet."

Emili was certain she saw her youngest son cock an eyebrow in amusement, though if it had happened it had been imperceptible enough to leave herself seriously doubting it now, as Alex added, "Though you don't need one to be awesome, as there are plenty of cool people without one like mummy and Ackeshlion (he butchered the name of Guardian Axeclion) and Tristram and Lancalo and loads of others. So yeah, I suppose it just looks cool, and means we can use a type of strong angel that his stronger than the others. Yours just came in, though I don't think you were awake then, and you missed Akroma and Serenity. We each have our birthmarks on different places." he went through visually describing the locations of the Blade of Wrath and Star of Serenity on his father and uncle, with Cai replicating the actions and touching the same places on his own body, showing large amounts of self awareness for a child of his negligible age, and the twenty seven year old mother got the distinct impression that he would be a very intelligent child and was absorbing everything for future reference now.

"This is going nowhere," Johnias murmured aside to Marik as Emili heard, the woman turning back to the two still young but eldest living Lucernas, and sighed at the exact same time as her husband. The king replied, "I know, Johnias. I have tolerated this long enough, and it is time to end it."

Marik let go of his wife's hand and walked in front of his twin brother, adjusting the crown upon his head as the person who was currently speaking, a general from Epulaeous, stammered and fell silent at the baleful glare the king cast him that the twenty seven year old swept along the ranks of noblemen and women that had come to his youngest son's fateful Angelic Descent, sparing no one from his wrathful gaze – even those that had protested against Caiellis being killed – until each and every one of them lowered their eyes to the floor, including Incedian, who he had to stare at the longest to force him to do so, infusing Lucerna mana into his eyes. When he was satisfied that no one was looking at him, he bellowed, "I have had enough of this. Tell me, when was it accepted for the subjects of the Lucerna line to defy their will and bicker amongst themselves?"

Emili swallowed nervously – she knew that while Marik may hate his position as king, and detest what he was saying now, he was very well suited for the role, and could wield his influence well, "And when was it ever tolerate to even mention the possibility of laying a finger upon a divine descendant of Matalis Ortus Lucerna with the intent to do harm, much less discuss it as a realistic possibility? Never! I care not that Caiellis has the Angel of the Black Sun, the only one from the heavens that has acted to the detriment of the Kingdom of Light, as the First Sisterhood Angel assigned to him – he is a member of the Lucerna family, the son of the king that may one day rule over you all in the divine right of my family, the line of monarchs that has protected you from the horrors of the abyss and the corruption of the demons, arch nemeses of the angels, since before the kingdom had been formed."

"Apart from in the reign of the insane Emperor of Light, the only time that a member of the Lucerna family betrayed the people of Lucael, which was prosecuted by the Angel of the Black Sun-" Incedian cut in gravely, and Marik's furious and piercing blue orbs landed on the Hierarch as he was about to continue, his arms raised like he was going to spout some more meaningless rhetoric again, the king's voice suffused with an otherworldly resonance which emphasised the amount of mana that he had inside of him, "BE SILENT IN THE PRESENCE OF YOUR KING! SAY ONE MORE WORD ABOUT THE MURDER OF MY YOUNGEST SON, AND YOU WILL FIND YOURSELF EXCOMMUNICATED AND EXILED INTO THE ABYSS!"

The Hierarch rocked back as if he had been smashed backwards by a gigantic hammer, and Marik took another breath after he sensed righteous White mana responding to his anger and collecting around him, dismissing it but making his voice no less commanding, just not suffused with magic, "Do not dare to suggest that my son be killed, for, as the Angel of the Black Sun said, the First Angel herself chose this to happen, and you would presume to know better than her divine will? Are you, a mortal Hierarch, better equipped to decide the fate of the Kingdom of Light that She, the goddess that blessed Matalis Ortus Lucerna with the power to carve out this holy domain within the light and has given us the aid of her sacred daughters? I think not, and I also think that you should stop defying my commands unless you want to suffer the punishment that I outlined earlier. That applies to all of you. My son will live. Now leave us."

The silent gathering of nobles slowly began to trickle out of the doorway like a class of sullen children that had just been loudly admonished by their teacher, and when the nineteen year old Hierarch shot the king a glance Marik inclined his head in the direction of the exit – he only wanted family with him now, and while he liked the youngest Light-bearer Mithres wasn't a part of that. In spite of the emphasis he had placed upon his words, he knew that the talk of killing Caiellis would still go on in private, though he wouldn't hear of it any more and his youngest son's life was secured. That was the nature of the Lucaelian hatred of the darkness, and Marik hoped that the fear and hatred others would show to him wouldn't affect Caiellis to much in the years to come.

Alex vigorously brushed the tears that were appearing in his eyes away, determined not to cry in front of his little brother who was whimpering quietly at the sheer volume of their daddy's declaration, as if he made himself look like a baby in the presence of an actual baby he would look really stupid and not brave at all, but it took all of his self control not to bawl his eyes out in front of his family like his little brother was doing. Marik turned back to his two sons, one of whom was crying softly and the other on the verge of doing so, and forced the intimidating visage he had adopted to fade to be replaced by a soothing and affectionate look of fatherly love, though he wanted nothing more than to start breaking something, ideally something that would make a good smashing sound. Instead, he decided to calm himself down by focussing on doing the same to his sons, and lifted Alexander into his arms while he sat down on the side of the throne his eldest had been on, wishing that there was some way he could soothe his youngest son without touching him.

He tried anyway, "Come on now, little buddy, don't cry. I wasn't shouting at you, and I'm sorry for shouting. Come on, Caiellis, I'm sorry, ok?" The king felt like a complete idiot and utterly powerless to stop the baby from crying, as while that had used to happen to Alexander when he had been born and was typical of infants he had been able to bring his eldest into a hug whereas now he had to resort to just saying the words. He rested his head on Alexander's blonde hair, knowing that he had to comfort both of his sons to make sure they weren't scared of him after his wrathful bellowing, as the four year old sniffled into his shoulder and wiped his tears away whenever they tried to arise. Emili sat on the other side of the incubator in the centre of the large throne, and started to calm Caiellis down herself, making Marik open his eyes in wonder as the boy suddenly stopped screaming, though tears were still streaming out of his puffy eyes, and looked over at his mother, who smiled lovingly back and spoke to him in hushed tones. The king shook his head in awe of his wife's powers with children, and met Johnias's grave gaze when he did so.

Caiellis stopped crying completely and then went to sleep, and Emili had been able to hold it in until that point. She got off the throne and walked to the other side of the room, not wanting her eldest son to see her crying as it would make the kind-hearted boy sad as well, as the tears began to pour down her own face as she stifled sobs, feeling the sheer exhaustion of the day begin to catch up with her, and she staggered and almost fell over backwards. A pair of strong hands held her upright, and she instinctively leaned into her husband's solid chest and sobbed into it. Marik had handed Alexander to Johnias, who was beginning to ask his uncle about why everyone had seemed so scared about his little brother's angel who he had thought was "cool, but a bit scary I guess", though one look over at his slightly younger brother informed Johnias that the parents of Alexander wanted to personally tell him about it when they were ready, so he diverted the conversation with the kid to something else.

"Why … why did it have to be our son?" Emili cried, her slender body wracked with sobs as she rested all of her light weight onto her husband in a parallel of when she had cried of happiness after giving birth to Caiellis, wishing she could act stronger, though unbeknownst to her Marik was silently crying himself as well, after the anger at the suggestions of murdering his baby boy had left him and Caiellis's predicament had truly hit him. However, he needed to console his wife, who had gone through tremendous amounts of emotional and physical pain over the last couple of days, though she had handled it admirably well and in Marik's opinion Emili was far stronger than he was, so he said, "I know … I know this is a shock, Emili, but we will work it out."

"They wanted to kill him, Marik … they wanted to kill my baby..." she murmured, resting her head against her husband's pectorals as he squeezed her tight and kissed her on the head, dragging over a chair and gently forcing his wife into it as she tried to stand up again, replying, "I wasn't going to let them. No one touches our Caiellis – or Alexander, for that matter. No one touches either of our sons. We can work through this though, Emili – we can make our son realise that his power isn't a curse, nor is it something that requires hatred. Caiellis will be able to prove that it was Xarius that was evil, not the Angel of the Black Sun, and that the darkness inside of him can be used in the protection of the people with a gentle and kind soul wielding it."

"Yeah. But he doesn't deserve this at all. And I hope that she was good," Emili whispered as Marik sat beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders until she forced herself to stop crying. The two sat in silence for a few seconds before Johnias appeared in front of them, holding a sleeping Alexander in his arms and smiling, "I think someone needed their sleep." he passed the boy over to Marik, who nodded, checking his chronometer, though he already knew what time it was – after midnight, as the Angel of the Black Sun had assigned herself to his son at that exact moment when tomorrow became today. He stroked Alexander's blonde hair fondly, provoking the boy making a cute sighing noise that made them all smile, though it didn't hide the sadness in their eyes.

.*.*.*.

"Dad … What's wrong?!" Caiellis asked, his earlier relief at having someone else – especially his strong father, as while he currently hated the man Marik was a massively powerful warrior (by far the strongest in the whole of the Kingdom of Light) – at his side to fight the grinning Lord of Riots with him, as maybe with his father and king here they would be able to defeat the terrifying Archdemon, starting to fade as he saw the man clutch his head, the Lucerna crown upon it shining with a bright White light. He had been immensely glad that his dad had made it here to help him, as while earlier Caiellis had been possessed of the desire to want to do everything by himself Rakdos had been more powerful than he had ever imagined, though he wasn't afraid of death. He had already worked out that the Defiler had been toying with him, holding back on the power of his spells but making them no less agonising to receive, but now that his father and Akroma had arrived the tide could be turned.

But now the demon was grinning even wider, his flaming eyes opened wide in amusement, and before Cai could repeat the question to his clearly stricken father the Archdemon swung his scythe into the space where they were in, the flaming blade hacking through the air in a screaming display of soulfire that was reminiscent of the spell that the Sire of Insanity had cast earlier in his battle with Tradax, but much more destructive, shrieking victims of the Lord of Riots forming the blade of his fiery weapon as he shot forward with a speed that he shouldn't have been able to achieve with his monumental size. Caiellis felt adrenaline course through him in a renewed frenzy of stimuli, and, desperate to protect his father while the man sorted out whatever was happening to him, he raised a huge glittering shield of interlocking darkness and light forming a scintillating defensive matrix of glass that pulsed with shadows and coils of gold.

"Bah. You think this will stop me?" the demon roared as it descended, wielding its massive weapon two handed as his gigantic muscles tensed in preparation to attack, hacking downwards through the shield as Orzhova threw herself in front of the strike, the paralysis that was immobilising the king apparently afflicting the Angel of Wrath as well, and as the enchantments shattered the Angel of the Black Sun met Rakdos's scythe with her own. The two locked together for a few seconds that seemed to take hours, their respective mana pools clashing together and straining against each other as Caiellis frantically poured more of his own into his angel, giving up parts of his own life that would have to be repaired when he was out of the Rain of Gore (as otherwise the effects of the unholy torrent would prevent him from healing himself) to further reinforce her Black mana, shadows bursting forth from his outstretched hand and becoming wrapped with golden coils of incandescence as they flowed into the angel's medallion, but, in a battle of strength against an Archdemon, there was no contest.

Orzhova smashed aside by the force of the roaring blow, thousands of souls that died in ecstatic agony and the slaughter of bloodthirsty violence screaming their hatred and defiance of the angels and their love of the Festival of Bloodshed into the air, making Caiellis clutch his head in pain as reverberating echoes of madness shuddered and bounced within his skull, blood pouring from his ears as they were assaulted by the horrific cacophony and then his nose as his headache was exacerbated by the mana, but forced himself to remain standing instead of curling up on the ground and giving up until the pain ended, because if he did that then the pain would never end as his soul would be taken and abused by the Defiler. His vision blurred, and he vaguely saw his dark seraph hurtling backwards and crashing into the ground, a huge wound of black and red flames hacked into her midsection as she cracked the ground, angelic blood spraying everywhere, until she disappeared in a flash of purple light that had Caiellis rocking back and almost falling onto his knees.

It briefly registered in his mind that this was the first time he had ever had Orzhova forcefully dispelled and sent back inside of him because she had "died" in the material plane, and it was far more painful than he had ever imagined it being. He tried to keep his feet, but had to fall to his knees, the wounds his fragile body had sustained so far that he couldn't heal and now exacerbated by the sudden rush of exhaustion from Orzhova's departure, glancing over despairingly at his dad in the hope that he had recovered but, the actions replicated by Akroma, he was holding his head in his hands and trembling with what he would assume normally was rage but could only in this instance be pain.

Then he felt a rush of mana pouring through his birthmark that caught him entirely off guard, White and Black mana combined rushing through the symbol of the Black Sun as it shone with a blinding darklight and surrounded Caiellis in an imperious glow that derived sustenance from his increasingly depleted mana pool that was still fuelled by his hatred of the Lord of Riots and what he had done to Welkas and was planning to do in the future, and his need to protect the soldiers and his father, as while he might detest the man he didn't want him to die or get fatally wounded, because if he did then firstly Alexander would become despondent and his big brother didn't deserve that, secondly the kingdom would be left without a king in one of the direst situations ever to face the Lucaelian legions and either Cai or Alex would have to inherit the throne at a young age, and finally because that place deep within his youthful heart, underneath all the misery, sorrow, fear, defiance, anger, anguish and hatred that he had become well acquainted with after that fateful day nine years ago that had heralded his descent into deep sadness that had only been staved off by precious few people – most importantly his brother – where he was still a young child wanted his daddy to love him.

That place inside of him that he thought he had eradicated after he had opened up to his father and apologised for everything he had done and been met with disapproval and scorn, but had instead simply become smaller than ever, still cared about what his dad thought and did, still wanted to feel the love of a father whereas everywhere else had abandoned that childish notion and convinced itself that there was no way Marik ever wanted him – as wrapping your hands around your child's throat would certainly suggest that -, blossomed into life as golden White mana flowed around him, interacting with his dark hatred of the Archdemon that would dare to prevent him from rebuilding his family and having the life that he had waited for after nine years of desperation, fear and pain, the two sides of hope and hatred flowing through the Black Sun birthmark as the spherical manifestation of Orzhova's symbol was birthed into life again, crackling with holy and dark energy as it exploded.

Orzhova smiled as she re-entered reality, the star of darklight detonating in a blast of shining darkness that blasted the demon backwards, Rakdos protecting himself with his leathery wings at the sudden resurgence of mana from Caiellis, his exhaustion replaced by the divine feeling of a Lucerna that has Summoned once again, though he was massively concerned by the fact that he had just Summoned Orzhova twice in a row with no gaps for recuperation or the regeneration of his mana, although he hadn't yet cast an immensely powerful spell. He blasted a lance of darklight at the demon, who snorted and batted it aside with his scythe, his power still massive compared to Caiellis's and easily able to resist such a weak strike, before his flaming eyes narrowed.

"Interesting..." he muttered, though his demonic voice that spoke of humanity's base desire to destroy, to rip down the fabric of order just as they ripped apart one another and feasted on the warm flesh and blood within, and it was a second before Cai realised that Rakdos wasn't talking about the way he was suffused with new resolve and had Re-summoned Orzhova just after he had destroyed her, but instead was looking at the king, who seemed to have recovered from his brief inactivity, and Caiellis's heart leapt, not that it wasn't doing that already. He was still terrified, still indescribably and unnaturally frightened of the Archdemon who hadn't yet started to use its true power in killing him and still wanted to break his determination, but hopefully with his dad and ruler at his side they could prevail over the Lord of Riots, as Cai's father and the Angel of Wrath had defeated Johnias (though not been able to kill him) in the civil war and he had possessed an immensely powerful demon to command.

"Are you able to fight now, dad?" he asked, coming to his father's side as Orzhova stood protectively in front of them, though what disturbed the youngest Lucerna was the sick and sadistic smile on the demon's features, like it was preparing to watch something that its malicious and evil mind would find incredibly entertaining, but the man didn't respond, just kept staring at the ground in front of him with his gauntlets gripping his Lucerna greatsword. Akroma was doing the same, having not moved from where she had landed and begun gripping her head in pain, and Caiellis added a concerned, "Dad? What's going on?"

"Be quiet, Caiellis!" was the booming reply, making the boy instinctively back away, though his heart pounding in his head already, and Rakdos laughed, a malevolent, horrifying sound that inspired pure terror or absolute rage from whoever heard it. The youngest prince blinked to clear the warm blood that was rushing down from the rumbling heavens that had poured into his eyes, and when his vision was restored he could see his dad, hefting his broadsword and glaring with a deep, deep hatred at his second son that hurt him far more than any of the Archdemon's attacks had, emotional torment exacerbated by the amount of strain he had gone through today and the massive quantity of mental (and physical, but that lead on to more of the former) he had suffered in his short life, especially in the past two weeks, pulsing through his shocked mind as he replied, his mind unable to process this sudden turn of events, "What do you mean?"

"You know full well what I mean, you pathetic excuse for a Lucerna!" the man snapped, and when Caiellis looked into his eyes he saw the same thing he had when his father had pinned him down on his bed in the tent that belonged to him and was about to choke the life from him, the same murderous hatred and anger that had terrified Cai and made him instantly realise (in spite of what was said) that Marik had wanted to kill him, or at least violently silence him, and the resolve and hope he had suddenly built up shattered. He backed away from the king, flicking a glance up at Rakdos, who simply grinned back but seemed perfectly content to just watch as Akroma picked herself up off of the ground, her piercing grey eyes alight with more emotion than Cai and Orzhova had ever seen from them before. Marik continued, snarling, "I never want to hear your whining voice again, you worthless brat! And now I'm going to make sure that I will never have to!"

---

New Summonings and Sancturia Creatures in this chapter:

Rakdos's Carnival: Rakdos, Lord of Riots (I used the alternate art when describing him); Chaos Imps; Hellrider

Vadnan Noctis: Meadowboon

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I congratulate you on getting this far. Seriously. Not just for reaching the end of this ridiculously long chapter (I considered splitting it in two but I prefer it like this), but for staying with me throughout the entirety of this story and putting up with my habits of writing way too much for everything - it means a lot to me. I'm sorry for the amount of flashback in this chapter, as while I had planned for it to be like this since the start of the story so there was no way I wasn't going to implement them I (involuntarily, I swear) made them far too long and in my opinion it could easily detract from the drama of the rest of the chapter. I also lost my enthusiasm near to the end today (which, strangely enough, was when I was writing the bit with Hierarch Tybalt (I work in strange ways)), which kind of shows, but by the last bit it had a resurgence and I am now pumped for the next chapter. While there will be more adorable flashbacks, since I enjoy writing them and there is more of Cai's past with pre-civil war Marik to show, I've learnt my lesson and won't make them take as much space up in the chapter.