Celestial Wars Ch. 03

***

I saw the Lord of Destruction, standing in a field. Black tears were streaming down his flawless cheeks...but his red eyes were hard, and his mouth was a grim line.

Upon the grassy field, men in golden armor lay scattered about. An angel with bright blond hair that I thought I recognized shouted at the Demon, but I couldn't make out his words. They sounded like begging.

I saw black flames gather around the Demon Prince...and I wanted to close my eyes and look away...

***

"Maria! Wake up!"

My eyes flung open, and I found myself staring into the same red eyes I had just had three visions of. My heart seized in my chest, and for a moment, I felt nothing but panic.

Devnik gently placed a hand on my cheek, and gave me a warm, loving smile.

"Are you all right, dear one?"

Chapter 15

Black Deeds

"Love is not righteous. Only a fool who has never felt love's bitter edges would claim otherwise. Love is greedy, love is dark, and love is jealous. But this is why we desire love above all else. It is like a mania. Our thoughts become clouded, but our blood thrums with life." ~Attributed to Lilith, Princess of Lust and Blood

Devnik

The daylight shield rippled like gauze around me. My skin tingled as if a thin layer of frost had settled softly against it.

I picked the ruby up and slipped it into my pocket. The gem felt dead and empty. The magic that normally coursed through it was gone, expended.

Being forced to play one of my trump cards irritated me. The ruby was a comforting last resort. Now that it was used, I would have to wait decades before it could provide me with even an hour of protection.

Jon was staring at me, speechless. I restrained the urge to roll my eyes. Jon liked to think that he had seen all of my tricks, and he seemed eternally bewildered when I kept surprising him.

My gaze wandered over to Maria, whose hair was tousled by sleep. Stray locks of blonde hair pointed every which way, making her head look like the nest of some woodland creature. A warm feeling suffused me as I continued to stare at her. It was good to have her close.

I had rather been hoping that my little ritual would wake her. One should not go to a potentially lethal battle without some sort of token of a lady's favor, and I had wonderful ideas about the 'favors' she could bestow upon me. All of them, however, required her to be awake.

"Well," I said, "she seems to be an extraordinarily heavy sleeper."

Jon followed my eyes to the bed.

The white sheets had become tangled as she had stirred. They had fallen just enough to reveal the tops of Maria's breasts. Pale, curved skin peeked deliciously out from under the coverings. Maria had thrown one slim arm above her head.

Jon spoke while I took in the sumptuous lines of her figure. "We had an extraordinarily trying journey, my Prince," he said as he averted his eyes from the sleeping half-angel. "We were attacked twice. Once by an Afflicted, and once by an entire ship of sailors."

I nodded without looking at him. "I know, Jon," I said as I moved to stand. "Orias foresaw your journey. He was the one who told me to send Ezrih to rescue you from the ship. He was the one who warned me that the Judicar was traveling with you."

My feet carried me toward the bed, and I knelt down beside Maria without thought. I listened to Jon splutter behind me while I traced my love's cheekbones with the pad of my thumb. She shifted slightly in her sleep.

"My Prince," Jon said, "I hope you don't think too little of how I handled our travels. I was aware of the Judicar's identity the entire time and was bringing him here so that you could cast him through your Crossing Gate."

I snorted. "How could I possibly get him to willingly walk into my realm? No living thing not of the Dark can be forced to walk Hell's roads."

"Ah," he said, "but if I recall, Daniel has a piece of Darkness in him."

My butler sounded terribly pleased with himself. Almost annoyingly so.

"In fact," Jon continued, "I believe he has a stone heart beating in his chest ... crafted by your very magic."

I pulled away from Maria and looked over my shoulder at the butler.

Jon shrugged when he noticed my eyes on him. "I am merely speculating here," he said. "But I imagine Hell would gobble Daniel up readily."

For a brief moment, I saw Daniel Fleeting—one of the four men to ever win immortality from me—condemned to wander my plane of Hell for eternity. It was a very agreeable fantasy.

"That was"—I paused, unwilling to admit I hadn't thought of something—"very clever of you, Jon," I managed. "I will have to try and see if the Crossing will accept our guest after Michael and I have had words."

My butler nodded. He gestured to the door, and I waved a hand in dismissal.

Jon stood from his chair, and my supernatural hearing heard the tiny creaks and pops of his weary body. Suddenly, I felt very weary as well. Perhaps when this last matter was attended to, I would rest.

"Don't think I've forgotten about that debacle on the boat," I said calmly, as I turned my attention back to Maria. "I'm going to tell Ezrih that you owe him..." I let Jon imagine what Ezrih would want as repayment.

Jon sighed. "As you wish, my Prince."

Then I heard him open the door, but I didn't hear him leave.

"I suggest you hurry," Jon said after a moment's hesitation. "I don't know what has kept him, but I doubt Michael is going to dally much longer."

Before waiting for my reply, he stepped through the door and closed it gently.

I chuckled softly under my breath. I liked Jon. Impertinence suited him.

Underneath my fingertips, Maria suddenly jerked violently. A great, heaving gasp rushed from between her parted lips. Beneath her eyelids, I could tell that her eyes were moving frantically. She jerked her head again and tears welled at the corners of her eyelashes.

My heart clenched. She can't be afflicted with mortal illnesses ... can she? I thought uneasily.

I was seconds away from calling Jon back when I caught the smell of it. A foreign Light magic on the air. It was insidious, and terribly, terribly subtle. It had completely slipped my detection. But now that I was focusing, I could sense it on Maria's skin.

Dream magic, I thought to myself ... And more potent than any I have ever seen.

A deep chill ran down my spine and settled at the base of my back. Michael.

Frantically, I placed a hand on Maria's cheek and pushed my own magic against the spell that kept her asleep and dreaming.

True dream magic is an art that only the Light can perform ... but I could still dispel the working ... hopefully.

"Maria! Wake up!" I nearly yelled as I continued to channel magic against the foreign dream magic. Red sparks twitched down my hand as I gritted my teeth. Dispelling this magic had already consumed several times the power I had estimated it would.

Finally, the dream magic shuddered ... and then broke.

Maria's eyes flung open. Her pupils were wide and dilated, leaving little of her silver iris visible.

Lust, light, and fear. Those are the three things that naturally widen the pupil ... and currently, fear radiated from my dear aethling's every pore. Before this moment I hadn't truly had any motivation to face Michael, other than duty to my king.

But now, seeing Maria small and shivering like this, a blossoming anger towards the arch-angel unfurled. I did my best to stifle my growing rage.

With a soft hand, I placed my palm on Maria's cheek. Her skin was cold and damp.

"Are you alright, dear one?" I asked.

Her body tensed up under my hand and she shied away from my touch.

Confused and worried, I withdrew my hand as if I'd been burned.

Ah, I thought after a moment, her fear is not for Michael ... it is ... for me.

The anger that had been roiling and boiling inside of me reached a crest. Before I knew it the room was dark and cold and tinged with a wicked red hue.

Never before had I felt this ... hurt.

"What did you dream of, my pet?" I asked in the calmest voice I could muster.

Maria huddled the sheet close to her body, attempting to cover herself. Her eyes had begun to water again.

"I won't ask again, aethling," I murmured dangerously.

Maria's head sunk down. "Michael visited me while I slept. He told me some things ... and he showed me even more."

My mouth grew dry. "What did he say?"

Maria pulled her legs up to her chest and set her head on her knees. She closed her eyes. "He told me he was sorry he didn't make the protections around the Aethling awakening stronger."

I nodded dumbly, but she didn't see. Her eyes were still shut.

She continued. "He also said that the only reason you've been kind and loving towards me ... is because the Awakening bond works both ways."

No ... I thought. That's not possible. I would have felt it. I closed my eyes and dived deep to search out the bond's presence within my magic self.

It was not on the surface like I had expected. It was not a weak and subtle thing as I had imagined it to be, to escape my notice for so long. I did not find it amongst the roiling ocean of Dark magic I had at my disposal. I did not find it even deeper down, within the place where the dark flames of Destruction rested. Michael probably lied to her. I can't find it where a normal working would take hold.

But I hadn't looked everywhere. With hesitation, I searched farther down.

There, down in the deepest part of myself, I found my love for Maria.

It looked like a golden cord, made up all out of starlight and stillness. And like a gently twisting vine, it had entwined itself all around my true form.

It looked wholly out of place wrapped around the embodiment of The Prince of Unmaking. Like snow white lilies decorating a guillotine. Like a dove perched atop a lion with blood on its maw.

My anger cooled as fast as it had risen. In its place was a pit of sadness and disgust. Our love is a lie, I thought to myself bitterly. No matter how much I might wish otherwise, this beautiful magic was guiding me to act against my nature.

I opened my eyes and found myself looking into Maria's bright silver eyes.

"What else did he say?" I asked, my voice sounding hollow and dull.

Maria regarded me warily, though not with the same fear as before. Now she simply looked confused and tired.

"He showed me visions of you," she whispered. "I watched you murder an entire village with strange black fire ... I watched you kill other angels ... I watched you laugh at their suffering."

I couldn't remember what specific nights those might have been. There had been many in the early years.

Maria watched my eyes to see if I would deny the truth of Michael's dream visions. I held her gaze as my stomach churned in regret.

"You knew that I was a monster," I said. "In France—in my library—you caught an inkling of the black deeds I have done."

Maria nodded once, her blonde hair swirling and falling in front of her face.

"You said you did not care then," I said. "Has that changed?

Maria pulled her hair back and looked at me with an expression I hadn't seen from her in some time. Her face was fixed in the defiant expression she had worn during our first moments together. With a speed I had forgotten she possessed, she blurred out of bed and shoved me. In my surprise I tripped over the chair Jon had been sitting on and fell hard onto the floor.

She was on top of me in an instant, her delicate nose a mere finger breadth away from mine, her golden hair hanging down and around us framing both our faces. Her hands rested on my chest crackling with unspent Light magic. I could feel the energy against my breastbone, and I could see the azure blue glow reflected off the floorboards. We held this position for a moment.

All that could be heard was the sound of our breath and the gentle hum of Maria's magic.

Then Maria spoke and the words she whispered were words for remembering. They were words that resonated within me.

"There is some part of me," she said, "that wishes to burn you to a cinder for every black deed that you wrecked upon the weak and innocent."

Her hands on my chest shook and the magic that she held against me began to burn and char. It hurt, but I was too stunned to move.

Maria closed her eyes and a tear that had been mantled on her lashes dropped and landed on my cheek. She drew a breath and continued. "But that same part directs the bulk of her fury and disgust at the rest of me." A great tremor wracked her body. The magic that had been eating at my chest went still.

Slowly, she lowered herself and gently pressed her forehead against mine.

"I am disgusted with myself ... because even after witnessing your crimes first hand ... I still love you."

Words for remembering.

Words that made me ache inside.

***

-Alarial-

There.

I had said it.

The fear and confusion and the grief all rushed out of me. I now felt pleasantly empty and numb ... like a wound had just been cauterized to stop the bleeding.

Now I let myself think about nothing but the man lying beneath me.

I did not think about the terror I had briefly felt when I had seen his face as I woke. I did not think of the part of me that clung to any semblance of right and wrong. That part had quietened. It had left me alone with my misguided love.

Slowly, Devnik raised his arms and wrapped them around me.

"Thank you, Maria," he said, his voice hitched and faltering. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was close to tears.

"My real name is Alarial ... Master," I said into the crook of his shoulder.

He nodded once. With a soft hand, he took hold of my chin and looked at me. His eyes were warm and fire red. "My name is Devnik," he said, "not Master."

"But the bond makes me obey—" I began, but Devnik shushed me with a kiss that was long and deep and perfect.

When he pulled away, he ran a hand through my hair. He pulled on one strand playfully. In that moment he looked nothing like a demon ... not even a little bit.

"Alarial is a beautiful name," he said. "I like it."

And just like that, my world fell back into place.

For a handful of seconds.

A white flash scalded its way through the window ... and a loud boom accompanied it ... like thunder after lightning.

"Devnikolus!" yelled Michael from outside, his voice sounding unnaturally loud. "Events have occurred that I cannot explain and there are schemes in motion that I cannot divine!" The timbers of the house shook slightly under the force of Michael's voice. "I am coming in!" Michael continued. "I desire answers. These plots and plotters must face the Light's accounting with valor!"

Devnik smiled sadly at me. I nodded at him. We stood as one.

"No need!" my Dark God roared back in an equally loud voice. "I will meet you outside!"

My eardrums throbbed from all the yelling. I wondered what the nearby humans must think.

Wait, did Devnik say outside? But it's daylight!

I turned to tell Devnik off for being impulsive and forgetting that it was daytime. I never got to say a word, though. Before I could speak Devnik was already bounding through the hall and down the stairs.

***

-Daniel Fleeting-

Consciousness came to me slowly.

My body hurt and my eyes felt crusted shut. For a moment I lay still without moving. For an instant I was at peace. It felt good to just lie here ... motionless.

Then the pain hit. Tiny white-hot knives seemed to dig into my skin wherever they could. With the pain came despair.

How could I have been so stupid? I thought bitterly to myself. How could I let myself fall into a trap so easily?

Around my wrists and ankles the heavy weight of the manacles ensnared me. Curiously, however, I was lying down, rather than dangling from the ceiling.

What had happened since I passed out? With surprising effort I managed to open my bleary eyes.

I was greeted by pure, unbroken darkness.

For a moment I thought I had gone blind. I thought perhaps Maria's magic had destroyed my vision, that my demonic core had yet to heal me.

"You are not blind," came the voice of Vraiel inside my head. "From what I can sense, we are deep underground."

I tried to sit up. I managed to lift my head, when my magically induced injuries screamed in protest. My head clunked back down onto the cold stone floor and I gasped in a desperate breath.

"The damage that the aethling inflicted was severe," said Vraiel. "It will take some time for the stone heart to heal us."

"So what?" I asked wearily. "Do we simply sit here and await our fate? We don't even know where we are."

I sensed Vraiel attempting to send me soothing emotions, but my mood was black and full of bile. We had come so close to our goal ... and yet we had been outmaneuvered so easily.

Vraiel sighed in my head. "Let me try to create some light," he suggested. "Lend me control of your arm."

Gladly, I yielded control of my right arm. It stopped hurting immediately.

Vraiel lifted our hand. The manacle and chain rattled as our arm moved, but it did not restrain us. Vraiel began to pull on our store of Light magic. A bright bloom of blue light blossomed on the tips of our fingers.

He flicked our index finger and the ball of magic drifted slowly up and away. It eventually struck the ceiling. The orb erupted into an illuminating blue flash. Suddenly, the entire room was bathed in a gentle glow.

I cast my gaze about as best I could from the ground.

From what I could see, the room was startlingly simple. The walls were made of smooth black stone, and the chamber itself was hardly expansive. It was maybe eight paces from one end to the other.

Not that we would be doing any pacing.

Vraiel relinquished my arm and the pain in that limb returned.

I moaned piteously in the dark.

"There's no door in here," Vraiel said, his voice heavy. "That explains why the chains aren't attached to anything. We couldn't leave even if we wanted to."

"Great," I said aloud. "This room was designed to be accessed only by translocation magic. So we'll just wait for Devnikolus to pop in, shall we?"

Vraiel didn't answer, but I could tell he was brooding.

Right then, my demonic core roared into life. Red sparks glittered all over my bruised body. The pain that normally accompanied the mixing of demonic and angelic magic was added to the already present pain.

I nearly lost my mind.

Vraiel helped me by taking control of my entire body while I spasmed in pain. His aid helped numb a good portion of it, but it was still many moments before I could think of something besides the pervasive agony.

Finally the pain died away, and the red sparks guttered and winked out.

"The price of eternal life ... eh, Daniel?" said Vraiel. He didn't say it unkindly, but I couldn't help but feel resentful.

"Don't you start having one of your moods, Vraiel," I said past a thick tongue. "If I have to rehash the past with you now, of all times, I will probably strangle us with the chains."

Vraiel chuckled. "Truthfully, I doubt I could make you feel any worse."

That was comforting.

I tried sitting up again. My body contracted smoothly. I managed to flex my core muscles, which brought me upright easily. It happened like this every time. First there was the pain, and then my body was like new.

I spied my sword lying tangled up in the black iron of the chains a pace away. I pulled it out from the mess of metal. As I pressed my hand into the grip the familiar warmth and power that I always came with my Judicar sword jolted up my arm.