Celestial Wars Ch. 02

She looked innocent and at peace. Nothing but the glittering collar clutching at her neck suggested that she was anything but a young girl at rest.

The room darkened as the sun's light died on the horizon.

I drew myself up and flexed my magic. Life and power thudded through me. I was full up on this sweet girl's lifeblood, and the strength of it seeped from my skin.

It was time to go out and play.

***

The night greeted me like an old friend as I made my way down my garden path. Shadows swirled around me, and the air smelled damp and deep and wonderful.

Flowers spiraled out of the ground between old and twisted tree roots. My magic had long ago claimed this place. My garden looked wild and ancient. It was beautiful to me, and I had cultivated its creation carefully.

Beauty is everything after all.

I was picking a violet when I felt him arrive.

The air dropped in temperature, and I felt the wisps of his power sliding through the air. Red sparks flashed briefly before they melded themselves together.

Orias smiled grimly at me and bowed. "Much has happened, Lord Devnikolus," he said formally.

For a moment I was shocked. Orias was wearing the full robes of his station and standard. A black tunic with a golden fringe clung to his slender form. Woven within the fabric was his standard, three stylized stars arranged in a half circle.

I nodded. "Let's do this properly then, Lord Orias."

***

My magic conjured up some wrought iron garden chairs and a tea table to match. Using the rend in creation that I often grasped my sword from, I pulled up a stoppered vial of blood.

Orias held out his hand for the bottle and I handed it to him. Deep purple liquid sloshed slightly as Orias examined the delicacy.

"Fae blood," Orias said with barely concealed delight. "My favorite."

I inclined my head slightly, waiting for him to say the words.

"Your offer is most acceptable, brother," Orias said.

"Then please," I said warmly, "avail yourself of my hospitality, and my table."

We both sat, having satisfied a ritual as old as evil.

My flesh tingled as I felt ripples of Dark magic emanate from our completed formality.

Orias flicked his fingers and two obsidian goblets appeared. With a lazy hand, he poured the thick purple blood into my cup and handed it to me. Then he filled his own.

We both drank deeply.

Fae blood tastes like old spiced earth and overripe fruit.

I thought of the meal I had just had.

Angelic blood tasted like liquid fire and hot ecstasy.

I knew which one I preferred.

We both put our cups down. Orias smacked his lips. His mouth was stained with the fae's blood. The Demon Prince's face widened into a satisfied smile, and I could see that his teeth were colored purple as well.

"That was potent," Orias said as he gazed up at the sky. "The donor must have at least been an Earth-Tender."

"She was a Tree-Shaper," I said proudly as I poured him another goblet. "And no, I won't tell the story."

"We don't have time anyway, I'm afraid," he said wistfully. "I have to be gone before midnight."

I settled back against the hard metal chair. "Why did we have to do the meeting ritual? Neither of us are in audience. We are not calling on each other's realm of Hell."

"The Light has captured a few Unami in service to Mammon," Orias said offhandedly as he continued to star gaze.

I raised an eyebrow. The Unami were the least powerful of the Greater Dark Entities. Their entire race should be grateful Orias and I were even talking about them at table.

"Why do I care about this? What does this have to do with meeting formally?" I was rapidly losing patience. Despite my great fondness for Orias, it was vastly irritating trying to make sense with an entity that could see the future.

Orias tapped the table, reminding me it would be bad form to lose my temper while acting as a formal host. Smug bastard.

"Mammon has been spending the past fifty years trying to steal some old piece of Chaos-touched gold. The stars haven't told me what these Unami were doing for him specifically, but they've been far too talkative in captivity," Orias said calmly. He paused, his eyes flickering back up to the sky. "In fact, from what I've seen, they've barely even been tortured."

I fiddled with my cup as Orias' gaze remained skyward. I wasn't sure if I would need to wait until he was done.

Orias can only tell the future with his eyes fixed upon the stars. They whisper the currents of the future to him... and the way he tells it, his power is dangerous... much like mine is.

There is a great temptation to learn just a little bit more of the future. To watch the sky for but another moment and listen for just the next hour... or two... or until the sun comes up. One time, he said he was caught in the sun, and was unable to move as his Dark flesh writhes under the light and his eyes shrivel in their sockets. Orias told me about that happening once. I wondered how many times it had actually happened.

"Get to the point," I said, finally unable to keep my patience.

He sighed, tearing his gaze from the sky. "With the Unami talking about Mammon's plans, the Light has been distracted from your tiny little flareup-wielding Destruction."

I winced. In truth, I probably hadn't been using it enough. Cariel had served as too sweet a distraction.

Orias noticed. "Don't fret, my friend. I've brought something for you to practice on. I'll give it to you before I leave."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"So, I decided that to regain some of the Light's attention, we would give the Unami something new to talk about." Orias smiled.

Then I understood.

The Dark meeting ritual between two Princes of Hell contained pervasive and wide-reaching magic. Every being that belonged to the Dark would feel the nature of Dark magic bend and shift as a result of the ritual.

Every being of the Dark would know that Lord Orias, Prince of Prophecy, Stars, and Change, had just called upon Lord Devnikolus, Prince of Destruction, Undoing, and Fire.

The fact that this meeting occurred formally in the mortal world would be doubly interesting. Normally, these meetings took place in the deepest reaches of Hell, within a Prince's stronghold.

I let out a breath. "Will these Unami be able to sense where the meeting took place as well?"

To my eyes, Orias had to visibly brace himself, to resist the urge to check the stars. "I believe so," he said. "In fact, I believe that at this very moment they are about to offer up news of our meeting to our captors."

"Mammon should use better slaves." I poured myself another cup of blood. "I will be speaking with him about this next time I see him."

Orias shrugged. "He has grown bold in the past two centuries. Lilith and Baal did much to temper some of his actions in ages past... but Lilith has not left her stronghold in a century, and Baal has been emulating you recently... spending much time amongst the mortals."

"Perhaps I should take a turn scolding Mammon," I said darkly.

Orias held up a hand. "Let us forget about Mammon's negligence for now... His actions can be rectified, and we have even turned them to our advantage."

I allowed the matter to drop, but I knew the Prince of Greed and I would be having words.

My flowers swayed slightly as the wind picked up around us. Clouds moving from the north swept in front of the moon.

The vial of blood was empty, and Orias sighed.

"I'll have to be going," he said slowly. "But first, I need to tell you what to expect. The Light is going to be coming at you from two sides. One you might suspect, but the other comes treading from the fogs of the past. I'll tell you what to do and hope that the currents I have seen hold their course."

I nodded, attending to his words.

Orias continued. "Tonight, there are things you must do..."

***

-Cariel-

Warm silk and the smell of crushed roses greeted me as I returned to consciousness.

I turned over, and the liquid soft sheets moved with me. Never could I remember feeling so warm and content. My body felt heavy and languid.

It was a curious sensation, as if the echo of some great pleasure had followed me through sleep and had woken with me.

What could have caused this? I wondered as I stretched and flexed my toes. Who replaced my sheets? And refurbished my chamber? This didn't look like my cloister in the Northern Second Sphere...

Suddenly, memories poured into my mind, and I jerked violently.

Devnikolus filled my mind's eye completely, his smile both cruel and caring as he lowered his mouth to my throat.

I remembered the sharp pain as his teeth sunk into my neck. I remembered how that pain had given way to the most glorious body-thrumming, mind-enslaving, all-consuming ecstasy.

A tiny spark of arousal jumped in my sex at the mere memory.

The bed felt no less soft, my flesh no less sated, but everything was different nonetheless. I hugged myself, trying to find solace in my own embrace.

I was losing my mind.

When will I need him to bite me again? I thought bitterly. Will I need it in a week? Three days? Every day?

I closed my eyes. The need wasn't on me now. But I had heard stories. I had seen better angels than me... mad with the addiction.

There was no turning back now. I had given myself to him last night... and in the thrall of the demon's seductions, I had done it gladly. But now, away from the distracting sex, I had to acclimatize to what that truly meant.

There would be no return.

A dark road had opened its wide maw in front of me. I was staring down an eternal path of slavery, ridden with sex and with evil.

How long would it be until I didn't recognize myself?

***

Eventually, I could stay abed no longer. My thoughts continued to spiral down into depression, and I decided there was nothing to do but face my future.

Noises from far off rang from somewhere within the mansion.

I guess I should present myself to my new Master, like a good little slave girl, I thought with cold anger.

I had no clothes of my own. When I opened the towering wardrobe, I discovered that there was nothing in there but the demon's impossibly large human attire.

He's never given me clothes before, I thought. Perhaps a creature of my lowly status was to be kept naked... for easy access to all the intimate bits that clothes were supposed to protect.

Whether they be demon or divine... men are all the same.

I descended the stairs gracefully, mindful that a harsh step would set my breasts swaying.

The entrance hall was empty, as were the kitchen and sitting room. The door to what I assumed was the library was locked, and I didn't think that forcing it would get me into the demon's good graces.

I didn't bother looking in the servant's wing.

The only place I hadn't checked was the mansion grounds. My hand hesitated as I reached to open the grand front door. Going outside might make my collar think I was trying to escape.

I gritted my teeth and pushed my way out into the waiting midnight.

There was no resistance from my collar. The grounds were very dark, and I blinked twice... trying to get my eyes to adjust. I heard voices in the distance, Devnikolus' deep timbre among them.

I walked down the garden path, following the sound of my Master's voice.

The path twisted at the base of an old, winding oak tree. As I turned the corner, the Demon Prince came into view.

He was standing in front of two handsome young men. They stood straight and still as Devnikolus paced back and forth in front of them.

I couldn't understand what he was saying, as he was speaking in the Demonic language.

The two men had large black feathered wings protruding from their backs. Their hands were clasped behind them. Instead of fingers, they had long, wicked-looking talons.

My hands clenched as I stared at them. I had a special hatred for Bra'rul.

I had called up my sword with barely a thought towards what I was doing. Nearly one thousand years as a ranking Seraphim had ingrained strong instincts within me.

In the back of my mind, I expected my collar to pull me up short at any moment.

But it never did.

My feet carried me quickly across the grass. I saw the closest Bra'rul tense and turn to look at me. I jumped, and then sailed through the air with deadly intent. The silver point of my sword was aimed straight for the throat of the nearest Bra'rul.

Devnikolus stopped his Demonic speech and looked up.

His red eyes met mine for but the smallest moment of time... but it was enough.

Red lightening erupted from the Demon Prince's fingers.

There was no pain... rather... just an incredible force. My body was flung into the winding oak tree. Roots creaked as my impact disrupted the bark.

Then, the tree glowed a sickly red, and the gnarled branches moved and wrapped themselves around my body like serpents. This was not a separate spell. The tree was sentient. It was aiding its Master.

If this were a normal tree, I could have ripped myself free in an instant. To my dismay, the branches hardly moved in response to my struggling.

"Stay there, little one," Devnikolus called out sardonically. "I'll be along shortly to deal with your disobedience.

He turned back to the wide-eyed Bra'rul, who were looking at both me and Devnikolus with shock and confusion. They both had their talons bared... as if prepared for more angels to jump out of the underbrush.

"Raak, Ezrih," Devnikolus said soothingly as he looked at the two respective Demons, "it is alright. There are no more angels here. We are not under attack."

The Bra'rul named Ezrih didn't look convinced, his red eyes still darting about the treetops.

"How can you be sure, Master?" Raak asked, gesturing with a taloned hand. "By the smell of her, that angel is a Seraphim. She is probably leading a sortie of Legionnaires."

"Silence!" Devnikolus spat, all attempts at calming the Bra'rul abandoned. "She is a recent acquisition of mine, and is subject to my will."

"Subject to your will? What sort of..." Ezrih trailed off hastily.

Frost was growing rapidly along the grass. The air took on a malevolent red tinge.

Both Ezrih and Raak dropped to their knees in a blur of supernatural speed. They kept their heads lowered and spoke no more.

Devnikolus' voice was as cold and hard as an executioner's smile... and it seemed to echo as he spoke. "Ezrih, once you have completed the first task I have already given you, you are to join Raak in freeing the Unami. Raak, if four days have passed and Ezrih has not joined you, you are to attempt your rescue, regardless."

Devnikolus paused. "Try to let at least one of them escape so that they may run away telling stories. Make sure to let them see your faces. I've chosen both of you because you are renowned for being in my service."

The Prince of Destruction eyed his servants. "Do you understand my orders?" Devnikolus said, his voice finally losing a little bit of its edge.

"Yes, my Lord," both Bra'rul replied in harmony.

"Dismissed," Devnikolus said with a wave of his hand. He didn't spare another look for the two Greater Demons; he was already stalking towards me.

I had long since given up struggling for eavesdropping, but I renewed my halfhearted efforts as he approached.

Over my Master's shoulder, I could see Raak look at me with a face full of hatred. Then both he and Ezrih both took flight upon their dark feather wings.

Devnikolus was staring at me, his eyes glowing red in the dark. A small smile played at the side of his mouth.

"It would seem you've woken up on the wrong side of the bed this evening, Cariel," he said. "Did I not leave you satisfied?"

The bark was rough against my naked flesh, and I could see a small cut on my shoulder seeping blue blood.

I decided to ignore his vulgar mention of our coupling.

"I was merely taking advantage of an opening, Master," I said, with as much impertinence as I could muster.

His small smile widened into a wolfish grin. "Yes... I suppose you were. I could command you not to attack anyone without my permission... but I can see how that might be dangerous for you if I'm not about."

The Demon paused and tapped his finger on his chin in a mock display of thinking.

"Hmm... I suppose there is nothing for it. I'll just have to let you use your own judgment and then punish you if you make poor choices."

I winced.

Devnikolus stepped closer until I could feel his cool breath on my face. "Did you make a poor choice, Cariel?" he asked in a slow, leading voice... like a teacher to a student that has forgotten his lessons.

I stared back at him. "I refuse to play this game. I want to..." My voice died in my throat as Devnikolus cupped my cheek with the palm of his hand.

His hand was warm and dry. I could feel my skin come alive under his touch. My mind didn't want to remember last night, but my body hadn't forgotten. The deepest parts of me remembered that white-hot pleasure.

I wanted to close my eyes. I wanted to hide. Almost as much as I wanted him to touch me.

"Shh..." he said soothingly as he took yet another step closer... too close. The heat of him radiated from his chest and made my hair stand on end.

"Keep looking into my eyes, Cariel," Devnikolus said as he put his hands underneath me.

The tree was loosening its grip on me. It almost seemed like it was handing me off to the demon, as a mother might pass a child to its father.

My naked body slid into his arms, and he cradled me close to his chest. His body heat was all around me now. I could feel my center clenching as wetness gathered there.

He pulled my head in so that it rested snugly on his shoulder.

Slowly, he began walking back up to the mansion... his strong arms taking care not to jostle me.

"It will get easier, little one," Devnikolus said kindly in my ear. "Every time you'll put up less and less resistance. Maybe one day you'll forget to resist at all."

I whimpered and tried to bury my face in the crook of his neck.

He was both my tormentor and my solace.

"You realize I will have to punish you, don't you?" he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I nodded into his body, and he started whistling while he walked.

***

-Devnik-

I brought her back to the master bedroom.

The sheets were still rumpled on the four-poster bed.

Cariel was very still in my arms, but her silver eyes were bright and alert. Her face was a picture of contrast... She looked like she didn't know if she should laugh or cry, so she did neither.

The sight of it heated my blood.

In truth, Cariel had simply given me an excuse that I had been craving. She had reminded my hands of how to seduce and pleasure Angelic flesh... but they ached to remember what it felt like to give pain.

I wanted to pull this red-haired girl through a crucible of pain. I wanted to push her to the edges that defined her. I set her down gently on her feet.

Cariel wobbled slightly as she took up her own weight. She looked at me curiously, a question on her lips.

Before she spoke, I snapped my fingers.

Black chains descended from the ceiling in a whirlwind of red sparks. Manacles clamped around Cariel's wrists as she stared on dumbly.

Blue sparks flashed faintly as the chains hauled her up off her feet. They died down quickly though.

I gazed at my prize. Cariel dangled a mere inch off the ground. Her pale feet swung in the air... so close to the ground, but very far away.

I snapped again, and more black chains emerged from the floor and wrapped themselves around her ankles to prevent her from kicking.

Cariel found her voice... but she didn't say what I thought she would

"It's okay if you hurt me," she said in a soft voice. "I can take it."