Rituals Page 10

  Artimus nodded in agreement with Katya while intently pondering the situation. “We should declare him as a captured animal,” a passing officer remarked. In a swift second, Artimus planted the man’s face into a nearby cart. The officer slid unconsciously to the ground. “Was that really necessary?” Kat asked. “Now? Of all the moments to do such a thing.” “We’ll figure something out,” the bloodlion replied in an unphased manner.

  Fia felt her body hit the cold stone, and her eyes slowly became clear from coming through a dark portal. She covered her mouth for various reasons but trying not to vocalize the horrified scream within her. She put her naked back against a shattered pillar, staring out at the abomination of the dark scar. She looked to her left to see several of the hunters gathered at the bottom of the steps. Then she felt a cold wind seem to seep into her nerves from behind her.

  Fiaria controlled her breathing, but tears forced their way from her hazel eyes despite her composure. “Come up here,” Vil’el spoke in a friendly tone. Fia hesitantly complied, doing her best not to look at the source of the voice. Vil’el approached her, slowly stepping around Fia. “I can see why he likes you,” she said, slapping Fia hard enough on her ass to make her exclaim from the pain.

  “You’re also strong. It takes a certain sort of woman to fuck a demon as much as you have,” Vil’el continued. “That sort of makes us similar!” she added cheerfully. “Sahja is no demon,” Fia rebuked timidly. “Any bloodlion is a demon, girl! That was our little gift to Mol’do way back in the day,” Vil’el replied as if she were catching up with an old friend. “We’re going to have to fix that oven of yours, though, because I do cherish the idea of a family.”

  Vil’el motioned with her finger around Fia, and a rather elegant shroud manifested on her. The garment swallowed Fiaria’s tiny figure, but the lass found a bit of comfort in clinging to the heavy material. Vil’el smirked, remarking, “I always liked the term, ‘honest thief.’” Fia eyed a rusty scrap of metal, thinking she could cut her wrists on it. “I wouldn’t,” Vil’el stated casually. “That’s going to make things so much worse for you and for him and, really, everyone.”

  Fia was terrified that the fallen angel could have seen what she was thinking, dreading what it meant that she was being kept alive. Vil’el returned to her throne, leaving Fiaria a prisoner with no chance to escape. “Don’t worry,” the fallen angel said casually. “We need both of you.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  With a Crowd of Onlookers

  Tens of thousands were arriving in Ven’ro at a time following the cataclysm, syphoning through the countless miles of encampments before reaching Ephthali. Sahja and Artimus looked like freelance warriors to everyone they passed, though they carried an aura about them that other heroes did not carry.

  Their caravan was tired, with only a handful continuing through the camps to register in the city. Swae was speaking with Xavus; and lady Elsa was not far from the primary gates, halting in her words when the bloodlions came into her view. She abruptly walked away, heading through the crowds with alarming haste.

  The archangel came to a halt in front of the two bloodlions and Katya. “Holiness,” Artimus began. Swae, looking at Sahja as if considering “ending” him on the spot, held up her hand as if to tell him not to speak. Sahja, daring to put his hand on the hilt of his sword, took a few slow steps backward. “Don’t be foolish, Sahja!” Artimus quietly scolded.

  Swae drew her sabre and pointed it at Sahja. “I won’t have a marked soul in this city and certainly not an untamed bloodlion.” she declared. The tension in the air was palpable, even accompanied by feint nether activity. Finding herself in a rather precarious situation, the look in the archangel’s eyes was that of intent with a hint of confusion.

  A cloud of dust and black lightning exploded on the ground just outside the city gate, followed by a piercing sonic boom. Sheth’rel instantly became dismissive of the bloodlion she had at the end of her sword seconds ago, shoving him aside as she stepped forward. She intently watched the cloud settle. “No,” Swae uttered to herself in disbelief. Vil’el stood, now fully armored, before the masses with a bound girl on the ground beside her. Sheth’rel’s eyes became intense with wrath; but, as of now, she couldn’t touch the fallen angel.

  Seeing the two of them together reminds me of how similar they look--especially before the fall.

  “How dare you show your face here,” Swae uttered begrudgingly. “There’s no law against a friendly bargain,” Vil’el rebuked with a sly smirk. Now looking back at Sahja, Swae’s eyes became wide when she realized what was happening, as if trying to figure out how to protect him.

  Fia’s eyes pleaded for help through her tears as she looked at her companions and Sahja. Vil’el laughed. “Go ahead! Kill him!” she taunted. “Show them the sort of love archangels are capable of.” Sahja dropped his blade and began to walk towards the fallen angel.

  As Sahja approached, Vil’el conjured a demonic blade. She dissipated the robe that covered Fia as easily as she’d conjured the blade, positioned her like a dog, and held the blade between her legs. Fiaria wept helplessly, praying for death before any of this could transpire.

  “You won quite the jackpot, boy!” Vil’el exclaimed as if she were carefree. “Here’s the deal. Your family must have been some fucked-up people back in the day, because your bloodline traces directly back to the first bloodlion ritual. I would like to have that blood replicated as healthily as possible.”

  “Please just let her go,” Sahja said calmly. “No,” Vil’el replied. “You can accept my terms, or you can watch me fuck this girl with this sword in every way you’ve fucked her. And I think we both know that’ll be a messy affair.”

  The cold steel barely met the heat of Fia’s skin before her panicked and desperate whimpers broke the otherwise deathly silence. “I AGREE!” Sahja yelled in a rare plea. Vil’el tossed the sword away and allowed Sahja to come to Fia. The fallen angel looked at Swae with a smirk. “You can still kill him. There’s enough that’s not human anymore that it wouldn’t matter,” she taunted.

  Swae couldn’t give Vil’el more of what she wanted and had already gotten; that is, the attention of the people and the morale of the refuge. Sahja looked back at the company with a defeated look in his eyes, then rested his head against Fia’s, covering her with his long coat. “I’m sorry,” he uttered. Fia just shook her head and buried herself in the bloodlion.

  A terrani ranger released an arrow bound for the fallen angel’s head. Vil’el saw the arrow but did nothing. The arrow simply dissolved as it flew past Swae. The archangel couldn’t allow such a further escalation by striking the fallen angel.

  Vil’el laughed out loud. “Big sis, still so adherent to the strings he has on you? Is it faith in their spirit, or by your calculation, are they just two more souls worth risking?” she mocked. “You forget our war still involves lying with the enemy.” A dark portal spawned behind the fallen angel. She beckoned the two mortals through, never breaking eye contact with Sheth’rel.

  “You’ll be under my greave before I give you the pleasure of burning for the rest of your soul’s pitiful existence,” Swae declared. “Tell me when that’ll be. I’ll be sure to look pretty for you,” Vil’el replied before stepping through the portal.

  Swae’s clenched fists trembled from anger. She fell to her knees and dug her fingers into the stone earth, as if it were paper. Tears built up on the lens of her shades from the fury she couldn’t unleash. Energy radiated from her like heat rises. Xavus was the only one brave enough to approach Swae, carefully placing his hand on her shoulder. “No children saw any of it,” he said gently. Swae sniffled and wiped the rose-colored lenses. “That’s good. They have enough horror stories as it is,” she replied.

  Orders and directives were already being shouted to and from as Swae made her way back through the city gate. Artimus bowed low but had nothing immediately to say
. Swae patted her hand on his shoulder as she passed by, conjuring her pipe with the other.

  Elsa held Xavus’ hand tightly, looking through fearful eyes at the archangel walking away. As Swae walked by Genri, she uttered, “I want to speak with anyone who knows those two. I’ll be on the palace veranda.” Genri gave a slight bow, keeping his eyes down. Once Swae had passed by, he glanced back at her. He could see her holding her heart, and he heard one last sniffle escape.

  Dan’el was leaning against a pub doorway as Swae passed by. “We’ll get em’ back,” he declared. Swae stopped and simply gave Dan’el a kiss on his cheekbone, replying, “We’ll see how this goes,” as she continued on her way.

  Artimus felt as defeated as anyone, seeing his promising apprentice stolen away without a single swing of a sword. “Come on, love,” Katya said softly. “We need to register at the armory.” Artimus put his arm over Katya’s shoulders, and the two continued into the streets of Ephthali.

  Several other terrani heroes followed suit, dragging the covered remains of the vile hunters on a gurney behind them. The heroes saluted Xavus and Elsa. Xavus approached the gurney, motioning for Elsa to stay back. He barely pulled back the top of the sheet, revealing the hunter’s nightmarish face. There were no eyes and no nose, but they were replaced by a massive mouth that opened in four directions--nothing to resemble the soul it once was.

  Xavus glanced back at Elsa. “Could you show these men and women to the apothecary ward?” he asked. Elsa nodded. “Of course,” she replied with as much of a cheerful spirit as she could muster. Xavus kissed his wife-elect; then she led the heroes away. He went outside the gate where Vil’el had appeared, kneeling down to examine the ground. It was as if the very earth died in that spot. The soil became like ash, and the grass had been incinerated by dark energy, while glowing green runes slowly faded into the ash-like soil. “Light, be with them,” he uttered humbly.

  Sahja and Fia found themselves in a hopeless and defiled place. It was eerie how the demons were so passive towards the two mortals’ presence. I’d only seen this sort of coexistence a few times before, and it often ended poorly. Sahja was politely stripped of his weapons, but he was never shackled or otherwise threatened.

  Vil’el caressed Fia’s face as she passed by her. Fia shuttered at the touch, as if ice rolled through her veins. Vil’el motioned to one of her hunters, and the monster brandished a ritualist’s dagger. The fallen angel’s eyes locked with Fiaria’s. “Don’t worry; this is for me,” she remarked in her smug nature.

  The fallen angel ran the blade across her arm, then held the wound before Fia. “You need a taste,” she said, as drops of her blood spattered on the stone beneath them. Fia’s lips trembled as she looked at Sahja, who was surrounded by six hunters. Sahja was exhausted in every way. His expression said as much, although his eyes looked at her as lovingly as they could.

  Vil’el gently held Fia’s chin, guiding her lips to the blood. What could she do? Vil’el held Fia’s head, having the girl drink of her blood to the point of her own satisfaction. Fia choked and nearly became ill on the spot while the fallen angel’s blood dripped from the girl’s mouth.

  The fallen angel smiled. “That’ll help us along. We could even think of each other as sisters now. How many humans have had such a privilege?” she exclaimed happily. The fallen angel pointed to a palace tower that had collapsed, but the base was still a sturdy and furnished shelter. Fia’s eyes hardly glanced up.

  “I think the both of you will find our accommodations suitable,” Vil’el said, glancing back at the bloodlion. “You may not be up for it today, but the sooner you get me my babies, the sooner you get to leave.” Sahja remained silent, not making eye contact with the fallen angel. Both mortals shuttered as their purpose here was revealed.

  Then a deathly still came across the area as the most wicked of auras filled the place. Sahja’s knees finally gave way when the dark lord, buckled by sheer “spiritual” power, appeared. Fia ran into Sahja’s arms, burying her face in his jacket. Dom’rel wore his desecrated angelic armor, radiating the sort of darkness that paralyzes the spirit.

  “Your record remains impeccable, Vil’el,” he said in a distorted voice. Vil’el bit her lip and smiled confidently. Dom’rel approached the two mortals. “It pleases me that our gift to Mol’do has survived so spectacularly,” he said, seeming to be more interested in Sahja than Fia. “You shouldn’t be frightened. You’re family now, and family is very important to us.”

  “I think there’ll be some good-looking kiddos as a bonus,” Vil’el remarked casually. Dom’rel chuckled ever so slightly, standing before the bloodlion. “I know your thoughts, so do not think you can take us for fools. Death is the last thing you should consider as long as you’re here, be it your life or hers,” he explained. “How would you do it, I wonder? Jump from a ledge together? Would you have the fortitude to strangle her?” the dark lord mocked. “You’ll find that compliance is your best option, Sahja.”

  Sahja looked at the dark lord through weary eyes. “You can have our bodies, but not our souls,” he stated. “Ah, good,” Dom’rel commented. “A bit cliché, but I’m glad that we’re on the same page.” Vil’el leaned against the dark lord’s heavy armor. “I’m sure they’ll find a way to make it work,” she remarked with a sensual slyness.

  Vil’el motioned for Fia, so the girl was released to follow the fallen angel. Sahja kept a hawk’s eye on Fia as Vil’el escorted her, and Fia glanced back at the bloodlion with helpless eyes. Sahja, feeling a strange sensation amid the concentrated darkness, now stood before the dark lord and just under a dozen hunters.

  Dom’rel put his sinister bladed gauntlet on Sahja’s shoulder; and though the maverick couldn’t see the dark lord’s eyes, he could certainly feel them. “Why?” Sahja uttered. “Because humanity cannot steer its own course,” replied the devil. “My bloodlions have seen that Mol’do has survived this long, boy. I was expecting them to have died off about now; but here you are, an heir to the first ritual of all things. You humans truly can be resilient creatures.”

  As it sank in, Sahja realized just how out of options they were. “You cannot harm her,” he declared. Dom’rel chuckled. “You have my word, child.” Sahja looked at the dark lord. “Does the word of the devil count for anything?” he asked. “Only if the subject is worth the sincerity,” Dom’rel replied casually, “and in this rare and peculiar case, you will receive every protection I’d allow my own treasures,” he said.

  Sahja gave the slightest of nods. Dom’rel motioned for the bloodlion to return to Fia, saying, “I suggest you make use of your circumstances. Your gift can truly flourish here.” Sahja made no comment or motion as he walked away from the devil, passing by Vil’el as she returned to Dom’rel’s side.

  Back in Ephthali, Artimus had engaged the council about earlier events. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN NOTHING CAN BE DONE?” Swae sat back, relaxed. “I mean, they are currently untouchable,” she replied deliberately, “and any mission into the former capital would be nothing short of stupid.” “WE HAVE THE FORCES! GIVE ME THE BODIES AND I CAN GET THEM BACK!” Artimus adamantly exclaimed. “I won’t waste good people on a blindly prideful endeavor,” Swae replied, playing with the smoke from her pipe. “And as much as I hate to say it, your friends are probably quite safe right now.”

  Sloth sat away from the group that was gathered, smoking a skunkweed cigarette. “Sahja and Fia are both intense souls when you get down to it,” he remarked. “They’ve never been perfect, but they’ve always been rays of light in their own ways.” Swae glanced over at the cog. “You don’t have to seek darkness for darkness to seek you. In every sense, their strength was what drew Vil’el to them. You can’t tell me anything else about his family? About hers?” she asked.

  Sloth shook his head. “Between our team, we knew what there was to know about Sahja,” he stated. “Fiaria came from a pagan background, but she converted not lo
ng after she met Sahja; and her family converted not long after that.” “I thought it was a sweet little love story,” Dan’el remarked. Swae just shook her head and closed her eyes in exasperation.

  Xavus listened intently with Elsa sitting on his lap as Genri passed some fruit slices to Sloth via the blade of his knife. There was a brief pause. Then Elsa said, “What about their souls?” “That’s entirely up to them,” Swae replied. “I suppose that’s at least some good news in this mess, that there is always a power that can and will hold onto them. They just have to keep their grip.”

  “Light, help them in what they’re going through. It’ll be hard for the mind to stay sober among such darkness,” Kat added, “but I like to think those two can survive in every sense of the word.” Artimus remained quiet now. “Why those two?” Genri asked. “Why not these two?” he added, motioning to Artimus and Kat. “Probably because Sahja was untamed still, then partner that with their youth and an apparent bloodline…,” Swae remarked dully.”

  The sound of a four-legged animal’s nails clanking on the tiles could be heard hurrying down the hall that led to their meeting area. Swae stood up, bearing a gentle smile, walking to meet the incoming beast. The archangel knelt and embraced a large dog-like animal, an Iscariot. The hound’s fur was black and grey with white markings on its face and shoulders that resembled glyphs and runes. One eye was brown and the other resembled that of a darkdancer.

  Iscariots are extraordinarily rare, and their existence is still a mystery to mortal scholars; but despite their demonic abilities, they’re very friendly to humanity. Their claws are the very same jet temper-stone found from the Celestial Onyx’s remains.