Chapter 11

Rain and Flame

-Devnik-

Clouds rolled in across the night sky ... quick and low and determined.

My tongue flicked out to taste the air. It was heavy and filled with the promise of rain. I turned my head up, and watched the stairs and moon disappear behind the clouds.

It was better than staring straight ahead. It was better than staring at the spot where the sword with an angel inside it had been consumed. Half an hour had passed since then. The Light was responding slightly slower than I had estimated.

Then I caught their scent out of the air. I hadn't noticed it at first, the smell of humidity and damp earth had masked their magic.

I turned my eyes northward. There were eight of them. An ordinary detachment of Legionnaires numbered at seven, no more, no less. Seven is the number of the Light.

An extra angel was accompanying their sortie.

They were about thirty miles away. I would have about one minute before they were upon me. I uncrossed my legs and slowly got up from the ground. Stray pieces of grass clung to my trousers, and I brushed them off.

Their white wings were now visible on the horizon.

I rolled my head back, and my neck popped gently.

They come to play ... they come to burn ... they come to die, cackled Destruction in the back of my head.

I clasped my hands behind my back. My cloak billowed dramatically in the wind, and the ruby at my neck glittered malevolently. I'm sure I cut quite the figure.

The angels landed heavily. They had to brace themselves with a hand and drop to one knee. Seven of the angels wore brilliant gold armor that swirled with ornate decorations. Blue wards glistened as they moved along the surface of the metalwork. Each angel wore a matching helm with tiny stylized angel wings clinging to the sides. Their visors were down, which obscured their faces. These were the Legionnaires, the golden foot soldiers of the Light.

I eyed the swords they kept in their sheathes. They were not swords of power. An angel that could materialize a sword of power was given greater rank.

The other angel was Viriel. He was dressed in the ornate white robe and blue cape of an Ophanim rather than the furs and sapphire of a Legionnaire commander.

That was odd.

"Good night to you, Viriel," I said as all the angels straightened to their full height. The Legionnaires all grasped the pommels of their swords. I ignored that.

"It would seem that you've been promoted," I continued as I flashed him a wide smile.

The blond hair that Viriel usually kept tied back hung loose around his angelic face. For a brief moment, I could see Maria standing next to him ... as his Aethling wife. They would have both been bright and blond and utterly sinless together ... had it not been for me.

"Demon," Viriel said, "I am here under orders tonight not to settle our personal debt. However, I suspect that both my orders and the call of my feelings might be in alignment."

"Does being an Ophanim instead of a lowly Legionnaire make you happy, Viriel?" I said mockingly. "What sort of rewards do your heavenly task masters dole out, I wonder?"

"QUIET!" Viriel roared, his voice echoing across the tree tops, his hands clenched and shaking.

"I am here under the authority of High Lord Michael the Valiant to investigate an extreme spike in Dark magic that resulted in the death of the angel Hariel, Guardian of the Fifth Sphere," he spat. "What do you know of this, cretin?"

Viriel was the only angel I had ever met who was both astronomically inferior to—and rude—to me. Only the highest-ranking angels, like Arch-Angels or Seraphims, could even dream of going toe-to-toe with me ... and the Seraphims would be wise to bring at least four or five friends. If Viriel had any sense, he would be shivering in his boots.

The dew on the ground froze and clung to blades of grass as I drew my powers close. A lurid red tinged the sky. The Legionnaires all drew their golden swords. They held them up and at the ready as they shifted into a low combat stance.

"I've never really understood why angels volunteer to be sealed inside a sword," I said whimsically. "It's hard to fight back encased in metal. It's hard to call for help. I recently discovered that it's hard to even scream."

"Slay him, men!" screeched Viriel as he waved his hand in an intricate motion. A short sword with a silver handle and a blue blade appeared in his hand.

The golden soldiers all rushed at me, weapons raised. Metal clanked and rattled as they ran in their armor. To my eyes, with my powers drawn close, they looked as if they were moving with comedic sluggishness.

I clapped my hands together, and the ground shook slightly. Between my palms, a bright orb of red magic thrummed into existence. The ball of energy pulsed like a heartbeat as it grew large and brilliant. I watched as the eyes of the Legionnaires grew wide and fearful. But it was too late for them.

I pulled my hands apart, and the orb burst with a deafening boom. A shockwave of crimson magic ripped through the Legionnaires. They were knocked skyward like paper dolls. Their bodies tumbled through the air like spinning leaves for a quarter-minute before landing hard and awkward on the ground.

All seven of them lay unmoving. Their once golden armor was blackened and bent. From the joinings between their breastplates and pauldrons, I could see blue blood leaking slow and thick onto the field.

Viriel was flat on his back, wrapped up tight in his white angel wings. His feathers were charred and flaking, but they had spared him the brunt of my spell.

He got shakily to his feet. He sheathed his wings on his back, and they disappeared. His cape was in tatters, but he looked unscathed otherwise ... apart from the look of bone deep dread in his eyes.

"All those years..." Viriel said softly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

I held a hand up to my ear. "Speak up, angel. Muttering ill becomes you," I said cruelly.

Viriel took a deep breath and set his shoulders.

"For all the years that you and I have fought, you have never used that much power," he said. He spoke loudly, but none of the previous arrogance even touched the edges of his voice. "Why did you toy with me for centuries, demon?" Viriel asked. "And why would you reveal your true strength now?"

I glanced up at the sky. It was still covered with clouds, and not a single star was visible.

"I toyed with you because it amused me," I said truthfully. "When you are as powerful as I, any fight becomes rare and entertaining. So, I let you think we were evenly matched so that you might stand and face me again someday, rather than run and cower."

Viriel's silver eyes flickered as he spoke. "When others told me of your power, I thought they overestimated you." He paused. I could tell how much he hated being played for a fool. "What changed?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Tonight, I am under orders as well. I do not have time to dally with you, or your shiny friends," I said, gesturing to the fallen Legionnaires.

There was a pause, and we both looked at the bodies. One of them stirred.

"Devnikolus," Viriel said, "please, let me gather my wounded men. We will depart to lick our wounds. You have won the day." He took a deep breath. "I cannot promise you that Heaven will not dispatch agents to make you atone for the angel you killed tonight, but I promise that I will tell Michael of the mercy you showed my legion." His voice was pitched low. It sounded like pleading, which was only one small step away from begging.

Something tugged at my emotions. I felt a tightening in my chest. Viriel's words reminded me of why I hated fighting Lucifer's war. But, I had no choice. I feared the Devil more than my own underused conscience.

"I'm sorry, Viriel," I said. "But I can't. My actions aren't my own tonight." His eyes widened, and for a moment, I think he heard the utter sincerity in my voice.

Then I snapped my fingers, and all seven of the wounded Legionnaires were engulfed in shadow black flames.

"NO!" Viriel screamed as he ran to his men.

The Legionnaires on the ground howled in pain as Destruction ate at their very beings. Viriel stopped just short of touching them. He hopped up and down and cursed and cried at his helplessness.

He turned to face me, his sculpted face awash with glimmering tears.

"Please," he sobbed, "don't do this."

I could feel tears of my own gathering in my eyes. I touched my cheek, and my fingertips came back wetted with black demon tears.

Then, the sounds of agony died down, and the flames dissipated. The Legionnaires were unmade.

"I have to tell him ... have to tell him..." Viriel chanted through his grief. He staggered away from me, and his injured wings erupted from his back. The feathers that were burnt fell off as he flapped his wings during takeoff.

I didn't move as I watched him fly away. His movements were erratic due to his injuries, but soon enough, Viriel slipped over the horizon.

Just then, a thunderclap rumbled through the sky and cold rain began to fall.

I kept my eyes on the spot where Viriel had disappeared. When I was sure that he was gone, I teleported away from my killing field, and back to the manor.

-Cariel-

Shame.

That was all I could feel. It burned hotly in my veins.

Through my hair, I could see Alarial standing in the doorway. Her face was a masterwork in conflicting emotions. I could see rage clearly in her eyes ... and I could see jealousy in her balled fists. However, underneath all of that, her sadness was the most profound. She truly and utterly loved Devnikolus.

My body twitched in the chains reflexively.

I was a hypocrite. I was pathetic. Not more than a few nights ago, I had sanctimoniously preached about how I would rescue her from the demon controlling her mind. She had begged me to just go away ... but I didn't listen.

Now the demon had me as well. I was tied just as tight as her. Sisters in blood and sisters in service. Degrading, pleasure-wrenching service.

Alarial took a step forward into the bedroom. The soulless knight kept pace with her. He looked as if he were readying himself to restrain her if necessary.

"Tell me what happened," Alarial said. Her voice was pitched in the unnatural calm that sometimes precedes loud and terrible anger.

I peeked up and made the mistake of looking straight into my sister's bright silver eyes.

My heart wanted to apologize. It wanted to beg forgiveness. But my mind was sullen, and my shame had awakened my battered pride.

"I think you know," I said sullenly.

Alarial nodded. "Yes," she said, "I think I do."

"Well, well!" called a voice from the doorway. "Look what I've stumbled onto!"

Alarial and the soulless knight whirled around. I peered over Alarial's shoulder trying to get a glimpse of the speaker.

A man with dirty blond hair stood at the threshold of the doorway. In his hand he held a sword. Along the flat of the blade the words "Fleeting Light" gleamed with blue magic. The man was a Judicar, a mortal selected to be a judge of Heaven.

The soulless knight smiled consolingly and took a step towards the Judicar. "This isn't what it looks like, Daniel," he said. "This angel wronged our Master. No harm will come to her. Besides, what do you care? No one has paid you to do anything, Monster Hunter."

The man called Daniel spat, glaring at Alarial and the knight with loathing. "I heard your conversation on the landing, Jon," he said bitingly. "I know that I didn't succeed in fooling you for even a day."