The celestial born and the high priestess returned, both smiling. I watched them carefully. The children ran to the little celestial born and clung to her pretty robes. She smiled down on them and petted their hair, praising them and encouraging them. It was like watching an alien scene play out.
Demons ate their young as often as not. Especially orphans, unless there was some reason to let them live. If the young showed promise at the art of war or skill at thievery they might be permitted to live, enslaved by some opportunist looking to swell the ranks of their private army.
The lucky ones escaped slavery and the blood wars. I had been lucky. I had survived on the streets of Sigil until I was able to hire myself out as a mercenary for jink. None of the others I had encountered over the years had been so lucky. More than I could count had been scooped up and turned into battle slaves. Most died in their first battle. Somehow I had managed to avoid that fate. I had never stayed in one place for more than a night. Always finding hiding places in the dark corners and forgotten passageways of the city of doors.
I watched the celestial born comfort and sooth the human children and could not fathom it. The priestesses were going to set up an orphanage, not to train these children to be their own private army but to give them a chance at a decent life. I could not make my mind accept it.
I felt better than I had in days. The agony of my foot was gone and my belly was full for the first time since I could remember. The sickness still coursed through my blood but with the source of the infection cleaned out and healed I might recover. I was tired, warm and full. Without thinking I stretched my great leathery wings to their fullest extent, luxuriating in the feeling of stretching sinew and muscle. Then I silently cursed myself for letting my guard down as the motion caught the immediate attention of the celestial born.
She hopped over and I braced myself. She was celestial, I was fiend. She might slay me as a matter of course. Though I was now the hired sword of the pretty, the celestial born outranked her by any measure and could decide to erase my taint upon this plane.
I watched her, folding my wings with careful and deliberate slowness. I would not be cowed, not by her, not by the paladins who stood behind her watching me with suspicious eyes.
"You will help Tia defeat the evil priest who threatens more than he knows." The celestial born told me, smiling.
"The pretty Priestess has paid me to be her warrior. I'll do as she commands so long as her jink keeps coming." I answered evenly.
The nephilim laughed lightly and then shocked me again. She turned and sat right next to me on the bed, actually snugging into the curve of one of my wings. I felt the song of my blood begin to sing to end her delicate little life and fought against it. I was still too weak to start a fight. Shifting uncomfortably I tried to put some space between us but she would have none of it.
She confused me. She fit nicely in the curve of my wing and the warmth of her feathers soothed me. But my blood still sang for her death. I growled low in my throat. I was not some house pet to be toyed with.
The feathers of her wing tickled my nose and I moved my head back, glaring down at her. "What are you doing?" I snarled.
"You are being given an opportunity," She paused then turned to look up at me. "What is your name?"
I hesitated. When was the last time someone asked my name? Then I cursed myself for the tell. With a practiced air of nonchalance I answered, "Icarus Cavernwraith" Now why had I given her my sir name too? I glared at them daring them to make a comment about my name. I knew it had been given to me to mock me.
"Icarus," the celestial born spoke the name, rolling it over her tongue. "I like it."
That surprised me. You'd think I'd be getting used to being surprised by these people, the disgusted thought flew through my mind. Before I could make some snarled comment she continued on and I was as captivated by her voice as if she'd cast a spell over me.
"My name is Elrithradia. I'm a nephilim, a messenger. Do you have a profession, or calling, Icarus?"
"Mercenary." I growled down at her, wishing she would move away from me. Her feathers were starting to make my wing membrane itch.
The celestial born hopped up and fluttered in the air in front of me, hovering. I couldn't help but stare at her. Hovering was one of the most difficult things to do. I watched in fascination as her wings worked a rapid pattern that kept her aloft and in place, the breeze kicked up by the rapid fire precision flicks and strokes of her giant pinions blowing past me and ruffling my hair.
I closed my mouth and looked around. Not a one of the other berks in the room realized what they were watching. The way this celestial born moved was pure artistry. I raised my eyes to her and saw that she was smiling at me, a secret smile. She knew that I understood what others did not and something warm and soft bloomed within me. I snarled at her, confused and uncertain. I did not like this feeling of softness. It was weakness and would be my end.
She settled to the floor, not even winded after her display. "You believe so many things that are not foregone, Icarus. You can choose your fate and you will be given the opportunity to do so."
I growled up at her, extending my wings slightly to appear larger. "I'm a merc. I don't have a fate." I snarled. Thinking beyond today would get me killed. I would fight until I died in battle, if I were lucky. If I were unlucky I'd grow old and starve begging for jink and drink in some forgotten gutter on a backwater plane.
"It's getting late," Cimmera motioned to the children trying to keep their eyes open while they sat at the table with the paladins and the high priestess.
The celestial born turned and smiled gently at them. "Too right then. We should all get some sleep. In the morning Xanthus will go back to town and purchase this place for Tia and I will stay with the children while the rest of you go with Hypatia and Valen and smite the evil priests and put an end to their foul scheme." She gestured the rest of them out of the kitchen to find rooms in the house. "I'll keep watch," she told them.
To me she turned and said, "You sleep too, Icarus. I'll watch over everyone."
I didn't want to trust her but I knew that I could and I was still fighting the remnants of the infection in my blood. She tucked another blanket in around me and I began to doze off despite my best intentions.
My dreams were not of battle and blood but feathers and the love of pretty priestesses. I fought against them, these unfamiliar dreams. I wasn't a man and the love of a woman was not for the likes of me. I snarled and growled in my sleep, twitching against these foreign dreams.
I felt the celestial born pull a blanket up around me in my sleep but could not fight off the strands of darkness and regain consciousness. Eventually the dreams subsided and exhaustion took over, I finally fell into a deep sleep.