Chapter 17: The Prince of Destruction

I said the words, and the world fell away.
The Demon appeared, and asked me to stay.
He said Hell was near, he could show me the way.
But I ran and ran, fearing the price I'd pay
-A strange poem entitled 'Winnowing'

-Daniel-

I was sitting with my back to one of the black stone walls. My sword was in my lap, and my mind was focused as I strained my supernaturally enhanced hearing, trying to catch the sound of Michael and Devnikolus on the surface.

Vraiel was tense and angry in the back of my head.

"I can't tell who is winning," he said.

I ran my fingers down the length of my sword. Over the years, I've found that this action calms us both.

"You said that there was no chance of Devnikolus defeating Michael," I said. I tried to pitch my voice in a low and soothing tone, but I was nervous as well, and Vraiel wasn't fooled. We sat in silence. Nothing moved in the underground room except for the faint blue glittering of our light spell.

A tiny red spark jumped across the far wall, directly across from me.

I blinked. Thinking that I had imagined it.

I opened my mouth, about to ask Vraiel if he had seen anything, when an explosion of Demonic magic thundered into life.

Harsh runes, written in the jagged lines of Hell's language appeared in the four corners of the wall. The four runes began to grow across the wall in sharp lines ... the way ice cracks upon a frozen lake. They glowed a deep, pulsing red as they wove themselves into a great pattern.

"I don't believe it," Vraiel uttered in my mind. "This ... this cannot be."

The magic symbols continued to dance across the wall. They swirled and curled in a frighteningly complex pattern. Then, like a bolt slipping onto a latch, the demonic runes halted with a thud.

Before me, the red lines of power had settled and cooled into the shape of an ornate double door. Above the twin doors lay an arch-way, and within that arch, were words:

"The Broken Gardens," I whispered, as I read.

Instinctively, my legs and arms folded in front of me as a feeble, childlike attempt at protection.

Insidious power, like none I had ever felt, emanated from that door. Muffled voices seemed to slip from the seams of the stone.

"Vraiel?" I asked, as my voice trembled, "What is that?"

The doors creaked open slightly, and I couldn't help but gaze within.

"It is a Crossing," Vraiel said. "We sit at the threshold of hell."

-Alarial-

Jon had his hands over his eyes. When we had all realized that Michael had heard him, a shudder had run through the butler's body that I had thought might make his knees give out.

He had remained standing, but his shoulders had sagged, and his hand hadn't left his face.

"I'm such a fool..." Jon muttered to himself. "He's going to punish me for decades for this..."

I wanted to comfort him, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the window, where something I had never envisioned in my wildest imagination was occurring.

The world had disappeared.

Well ... not all of the world ... just well ... most of it.

Outside of the manor grounds, the rest of Ireland seemed to have ... disappeared.

Instead, there was nothing but a frightening black space. I hadn't realized my love could do something like this. What had happened?

My eyes flicked toward Devnik. The red column of magic coming from his palm had thinned, and then guttered out. The spell was apparently over. My Dark God lowered his hand hesitantly. I couldn't quite see from so far away ... but it looked like his hand had blackened ... as if burned by his own spell.

I twisted around on my precarious perch on the side of the bathtub.

"Do either of you know what just happened?" I whispered. "Everything has gone all ... empty ... outside."

Cariel didn't answer. Her legs were drawn up to her chest. Her slight pale body was shaking gently with tiny tremors. Tears were flowing freely down her face. Her eyes were closed tight.

"He had to trap him," Jon said as he dragged his hand down his face. "Michael wasn't here for long enough, so Devnik had to prevent him from escaping and ruining Lucifer's plans."

Cariel's silent tears hitched at that ... and her silent crying turned into audible sobs.

"But what did he do Jon?" I asked loudly, all thoughts of whispering forgotten.

Jon looked at me. His face was too white and his brown eyes had unshed tears lingering within.

"He opened his Crossing," Jon said. "We are in a realm in between Hell and the real world called 'The Winnowing.'"

I stared at him blankly.

Jon gave me a sad smile.

"When the Prince decides the time is right ... this realm will dissolve ... and every sentient being within not of the Dark will be given a choice. They can choose to resist the call of Hell and return to Earth ... or they can allow themselves to be sucked into Devnikolus's realm."

"Oh," was all I could think to say.

-Devnik-

I smiled to myself.

I had managed to drag my entire mortal domain into the Winnowing Realm.

Orias had told me it was possible, if worse came to worse, but I hadn't really believed him. Winnowing is the realm a greater demon will take a mortal if it is believed that the mortal will be a boon to the Dark.

If the mortal accepts, he will pass into Hell, where Hell will corrupt them into one of the Dark.

I chuckled lightly to myself. I wondered if Michael would be interested.

Before I could think of an appropriate taunt to yell at the arch-angel, I was distracted by a sharp sensation in my hand.

I looked down.

Dark, shadowy flames were bubbling out of the hand I had cast the Working with.

My human hand had shattered. Already, fingers composed of pure Destruction were attempting to form to replace my lost appendage.

I tried to focus my will on creating another hand before any more of my true form manifested itself.

"DEMON!" Roared Michael at the outskirts of the manor gardens.

I winced as the arch-angel's voice shattered my concentration. His voice seemed to vibrate the very earth.

He sounded angry.

In truth, I deserved his anger. I doubted anyone else in the history of Creation was bold enough, and stupid enough, to trap Lord Michael the Valiant in Winnowing.

But it was just for five minutes. Then, I would slip back down to my realm. I had been absent for a long time.

Soon, I would finally be able to rest.

I looked up from my broken hand.

Michael was standing right in front of me.

I hadn't seen him move ... hadn't heard him move.

His eyes were inches from mine. They were the dark silver of a sky in a storm.

"Do you know what you've done?" Michael asked. All his rage seemed to be gone. Now, all I could detect from him was sorrow.

"Friar Ferdinand's book was nearly complete. It would have changed lives."

I opened my mouth to respond. I didn't know what I would say.

His fist struck me in the stomach. I'm suddenly doubled over, and in pain.

Coughing, I tried to step back.

Michael reached out and grabbed me by my hair and hurled me away. I strike the ground, hard. Tears gathered in my eyes and I have to blink them away.

I look up and see him standing over me, his face a mask of sadness ... but not mercy.

My nose broke as the heel of his hand crushed my face. Black ichor dribbled out of my mouth and covered my chin and the grass beneath me.

My body throbbed, threatening to come apart.

"Men would have read his book and known the Lord's love," Michael said, as he drew back his hand for another blow.

I tried to collapse into magic in order to escape.

"Halt," Michael said in the language of the Light.

Blue lighting crackled down my body. The pain was unbelievable. It had been eons since I had felt this kind of pain.

The whole of my arm shattered, and the inky black fire of Destruction began to stream out.

'Master?' Came the dry questioning whisper of Destruction.

The flames wanted to know if I would use them.

Michael's hand sparked as a new spell vibrated into existence.

"But now, Satan has probably killed him, and burned his writings," Michael continued as I writhed underneath him.

I tried to gather my reserves, but summoning 'Winnowing' to such a large area had left me drained. I closed my eyes.

Then I was flying. Blue sky mixed with the emptiness of Winnowing flew by. I crashed into the front door of my manor house. The strong oak doors splintered like kindling.

Wooden fragments pierced my human skin like needles.

'Please Master?' Destruction called out.

It was so hard to resist now. My human body was battered and broken. Pain seemed to fill my every thought. My mental shields couldn't hold up much longer. Destruction was pouring out in place of my missing limb. It was too much.

I acquiesced, and embraced Destruction.

The last of my fake form flaked. True power, the likes of which I had suppressed for so long, rushed through me. Laughter began to bubble up from my sore throat.

And then the change took me and everything faded...

-Cariel-

"We need to be ready," Jon said, as he paced frantically back and forth in the tiny bathroom.

A loud crack echoed from outside, and Alarial gasped.

Devnik must have been hit.

I ruthlessly suppressed a raging desire to go help him. Instead, I fingered my collar, and tried to think of happy things. I tried not to think about the Demon, or the choice I would have to make, now that we were all in 'Winnowing.'

But it was hopeless. A mere second passed and I was already trapped in another lurid fantasy.

"Do you know what choice you will make?" Jon asked, breaking my fantasy.

Alarial and Jon were both looking at me.

My sister's blond hair was tangled and her face looked frightened and nervous ... but there was also iron there in the way she had set her jaw ... I knew she'd made her choice.

Jon simply looked rattled.

"Yes," I said, as I kept my hand on the gold band around my neck.

My eyes unconsciously flicked back over towards my sister, looking for the anger and derision that I knew I deserved for my hypocrisy.

But she wasn't looking at me. Her eyes were back out the window.

Another crack echoed across the grounds from outside, and a bright blue light flashed in the window pane.

"Love... ?" Alarial whispered as she put a hand on the glass.

A bright red light followed the blue one, and suddenly my senses came alive, as I felt a massive magical presence press against me.

Then, I heard the laughter. It was like a dark, manic boom. There was no sanity, no goodness, in that laugh. It sounded like rocks grinding together. It was like nothing I'd ever heard before.

I couldn't help but remembered some words that I had found carved into stone, as I perused the ruins of Alexandria.

Softly, I chanted under my breath.