Evenstar

by Darcy Town

  Paimon lunged. He knocked Furcas to the ground. “Give it back!”

  Furcas gasped. “What?”

  “My numbers! My sense of things!” Paimon’s eyes glowed neon green. “Give it back to me!”

  “I have not taken anything from you!”

  “Liar!” Paimon punched him in the face. He stared into Furcas’ eyes, and his numbers and calculations swam through his vision. “They are you now! You are perfect with them inside! Thief!” The thing that Paimon craved to understand the most, a design without second, was here in front of him. The more he looked, the more Furcas showed. Layers of information, all of the knowledge he wanted, a fountain of it, buried in the boy. Everything in this place seemed less compared to him.

  “Why?” He clawed at Furcas’ face. What he yearned for was in this angel, an angel who understood nothing. An angel who destroyed everything he had known. “Why! Why! Why!”

  Furcas covered his face. “Stop! Please!”

  Paimon kicked him. The force sent Furcas flying into the rock wall. “Why did you come here? This universe was good enough until you! I was perfect until you! You have warped me with your...your—” Paimon searched for words. “Prettiness! Meaningless existence!” He lunged and tore flowers out of Furcas’ hair. “Brainless! Irrelevant!” He grabbed Furcas by the arm and twisted, dislocating the limb. “Worthless singer! I cannot...it cannot...you have done this!”

  Paimon lifted Furcas and slammed him into a rock wall. The blow broke one of his wings. Paimon screamed in his face, “I cannot think when you are near! I am my thoughts, nothing else! You take even that away with your being!” He got his hands around Furcas’ neck and squeezed. “You have done this!”

  Furcas clawed at the hands around his throat. “Please do not!”

  “I seek you gone! You distract even when not in sight! I am not me with you near!” Paimon sucked in air and fought against the pleasure awash in the earth. He kissed Furcas. He scowled at his weakness and bashed Furcas’ head into the wall. “I wish you erased!”

  Tears filled Furcas’ eyes. “Please Archangel, I do not wish that.”

  “Your wishes are irrelevant! I am Archangel and you are angel! I am one of several! You are one of the countless, faceless, replaceable! You are nothing and should return to nothing so that I can return to myself!” He panted. Fear fueled his actions. His fingers twitched around Furcas’ throat.

  “Please—”

  “Be silent! I hate you! Stop being!”

  Furcas searched his eyes. “That is your desire? This will make you happy?”

  Paimon nodded coldly. “Yes.”

  The light in Furcas dimmed. He dropped his hands and looked away. “Then do as you wish, Archangel.”

  Paimon snarled and squeezed. Erasing this guardian would be easy; the pathetic angel no longer fought, the boy longed for his own end. He scraped at Furcas’ face, but he could not bring himself to break his neck, to cut off his air. His hands would not obey his will.

  Paimon threw Furcas to the ground. He moaned, disgusted with how weak he had become from these feelings. Pathetic that he could not even rid himself of this curse. He was ruined forever. He sat down and held his head in his hands.

  Furcas gasped and sucked in air. His head rang from the blow against the rocks. He wiped blood from his face and stared at it in shock. He heard Paimon’s moan and his eyes focused on him. The young angel sensed the Archangel’s pain and despair. He crawled to Paimon’s side.

  Dahlia screamed. What are you doing? He just tried to kill you!

  I love him and he was in pain. I couldn’t leave him like that.

  Furcas wrapped his arms around Paimon.

  Paimon jerked as the touch brought back Furcas’ rush of emotions and mental chatter. He ground his teeth. “I hate you. I hate you!”

  Furcas held and rocked him. He poured everything he felt through the link.

  Paimon breathed in and his world spun. He bit Furcas and pushed at him. “Why do you do this to me? Why are you hurting me this way? You torture me!” He shrugged Furcas off and grabbed him by his wings. “Stop doing this to me!”

  Furcas cringed at the touch. He took a deep breath. “I only want you to feel better, Archangel.”

  “I only want you dead!”

  Furcas dropped his gaze. “I know.”

  Paimon could not continue like this. He did not want to feel any longer. He wanted it gone from him, from everything, from Furcas—Paimon’s eyes fixed on Furcas’ face. His eye ticked. The boy was to blame. An Archangel would not have been created with this obvious flaw. The affliction oozed out of the guardian like a plague, infecting whatever it touched. But if he no longer existed…Paimon grasped at his hope. He could…he would return to normal, and all of the information Furcas had stolen would return to the universe. He was sure of it.

  He fanned Furcas’ wings out. It was perfect, an elegant solution. The miserable guardian was obviously a broken design. Lucifer had not sensed it yet, but surely he would soon. He nodded to himself; he would take care of this mistake. It was only right, having seen it first.

  Paimon gripped Furcas’ wings. Soft feathers brushed against his skin and agony bloomed in his chest. He stared down at the boy and hesitated, unsure. Pain swelled inside him. He let out an agonized breath. He swallowed it back. That malady would end now.

  Paimon snarled and ripped. He squeezed his hands across Furcas’ wings. Bones and feathers broke in wet snaps.

  Furcas bowed his head into the pain.

  Paimon mauled the wings, tore his feathers out, and gouged at the skin beneath. He shredded muscle and bone. He cried and crushed blue feathers in a frenzy. Blood painted the pair scarlet. He made the wings unrecognizable, ruining them as the guardian had ruined him. He ripped and clawed until there was nothing left inside his heart but a void.

  Furcas went limp against him. The empathic connection they had shared was severed.

  Paimon went still. It was done. His eye ticked. He pulled his blood-drenched hands away from what once had been wings. He looked at the guardian. He grabbed Furcas by the chin. Blood dripped between Furcas’ lips; he had bit his tongue in two to keep from wailing. Paimon flinched and flung Furcas away from him.

  Furcas hit the ground limply. The wail he had held in escaped as a wet wheeze. He cried and bled into the dirt.

  Paimon got to his feet and stumbled in the opposite direction, desperate to get away from what he’d done. He wiped at his tears and smeared Furcas’ blood across his face. He was confused as to why he cried. He gnashed his teeth and clasped his hands over his ears as Furcas wept. Each sound sent agony surging through his veins. Hate and rage turned his hands against himself. He scratched at his face and chest.

  Furcas’ back was awash in blood. His wings twitched and flapped uselessly against the earth. He covered the anguish on his face with his hair. He clawed along the ground trying to escape the pain in his back. He reached Paimon and grabbed his ankles.

  Paimon fell to the ground unmoving. He stared without seeing.

  Furcas took Paimon’s hands and placed them around his neck. “Do not leave me like this. Do not leave me to suffer, I did not mean to injure you. I am sorry, Archangel. Please, please stop this for me…” Furcas’ voice died as pain consumed him.

  Paimon looked at the stars. They said nothing to him, no numbers, no formulas. He dropped his gaze to his blood and feather covered fingers, to Furcas’ broken wings. He reached for the wings in disbelief. Slippery muscle twitched beneath his fingers. He turned and heaved.

  Paimon stared at his hands. He panted, his eyes wide with fear. He’d destroyed with his hands. A keening moan escaped through his lips. Everything was wrong. His numbers were gone. His formulas broken, ruined, torn apart…Paimon’s heart stopped beating. He slammed his palms into his forehead as his vision focused on Furcas.

  He had damaged what was perfect. Now nothing was perfect. Nothing could ever be perfect again. Paimon struggled for air. His fingers curled into cla
ws. This was his fault. He’d destroyed it, what he wanted most, what he admired, what he treasured and lov—

  “No.” Paimon got to his knees. He touched Furcas’ shoulder and gave him a light shake. “Heal! Fix yourself! Fix it now!”

  Furcas could not heal. The damage he’d taken was too great. Paimon panicked. “No, no, no!” He tore at his own hair. He lifted Furcas and held him gently. He whirled around, his movements frantic. “Help me, someone help me! Help me! Help me!”

  There was no one to hear him shout. Paimon jumped into the air with Furcas cradled in his arms. He flew through the planet’s haze of euphoria, terrified he wouldn’t find them in time. He had to right this. Had to fix this.

  “Help me!” Paimon found Lucifer and Ladriam resting by a tree. He dove for them.

  Both Primangels looked up in horror.

  Paimon set Furcas at their feet. “Fix him!”

  Ladriam took Furcas to her bosom. She touched his wings and examined the massive damage Paimon had unleashed. She held in tears as Furcas whimpered. She touched him carefully, taking away his pain and soothing his body.

  Lucifer grabbed Paimon. “What did you do to him?”

  “I wanted him to die, so I tried to make him die.” Paimon did not attempt to deny his guilt. “I…do not want that now. I do not understand this.”

  Lucifer slammed Paimon to the ground. “Tell me why you did that!”

  “I did not want to feel. He made me feel!” Paimon’s eyes were wild. “I had to rid myself of him to make it go away. Lucifer, he made me suffer! He made me feel!”

  Lucifer got his hands around Paimon’s throat. “You do not hurt that which makes you feel!”

  Paimon frowned. “Why?”

  “Why?” Lucifer smacked Paimon’s head into the dirt. “You ask me why?”

  “But Lucifer!” Paimon gasped. “He stole my numbers and put them in himself! He took it all, Lucifer! And when I hurt him, I hurt all of it. Now it does not make sense! He took it from me and I damaged it because I did not know!”

  “You fool!” Lucifer dragged Paimon to Furcas’ side. “You see in him what I see in her. Perfection! You do not steal that away! Never!” Lucifer punched Paimon in the face. “You do not hurt! You adore!” Lucifer threw him to the ground. “You care for him!”

  Paimon touched his bruised face. “I care?”

  Lucifer snarled. “When did I make such a worthless, dense Archangel!” He brought Paimon to his feet.

  “But he stole—”

  “He did not steal your numbers!”

  “But…” Paimon struggled to understand. “He is perfect! He took all the perfect things in himself. I want that back. He took it from me and the universe. He had to of. He took it from me, and he took it from you, from everything, nothing is right anymore… he drained the universe, can you not see? It is less now with him in it!”

  Lucifer growled. “He changed nothing, it is your perspective that has changed!”

  “No…” Paimon cried as he stared at Furcas. “He has what I want…”

  “Paimon!” Lucifer shook him like a doll. “No! He does not have what you want, he is what you want!”

  Paimon hung from him limply. “He is?”

  “You lack understanding of anything that is not easily calculated!” Lucifer slapped him. “You sought perfection and you found yours in him! Then you tore it down because you could not accept the form it took! But you only ruin yourself when you ruin him! Can you not see that? You are a fool to destroy that which makes you whole!”

  Paimon stared at Furcas as tears poured down his face. “Lucifer, I do not understand why. I do not understand why I hurt! Why do I hurt?”

  Lucifer backhanded him. “You love him and you nearly killed him! How is that not getting through to you?”

  “No. He cannot be what I sought, Lucifer.” Paimon rubbed at his eyes. “I sought to understand the unknowable!”

  “And to one so cold and blind as you are, that is him!” Lucifer gave Paimon a shove. “I pity him for matching with you!”

  “But he is just a guardian—”

  Lucifer throttled him. “And you are a terrible, wretched, dense, foolish Archangel!”

  Ladriam kissed Furcas and made his wings whole. She touched his cheeks and the blood on his body faded. She smiled at him. “You are beautiful.” She gave him her crown of flowers. “Beauty itself.”

  Furcas hugged her in relief. He buried his face in her hair.

  She hugged him and glared at Paimon over Furcas’ body. She shook her head. “Misunderstanding and fear turns to hatred, when much joy could be had instead.”

  Paimon took a step back under her gaze. “I—”

  Ladriam set Furcas on the ground. She stepped up to Paimon. His muscles locked in fear. She touched his face. “You felt nothing. Now you must feel everything.” Paimon’s eyes flooded with emotion. He held his head and groaned.

  Lucifer took Ladriam’s hand and pulled her away, leaving Paimon to himself. The Primangels leapt into the sky and flew into their universe.

  Paimon staggered and hit the ground as information bombarded his senses. The world was no longer a cold calculation, not something he could measure from a safe distance. Everything he touched responded. He understood the way things wanted to grow, what they needed and desired. He recognized what was right and what was wrong. He knew not what would happen, but what should happen.

  Paimon stared at the blood on his body. The heat in his wings burned it away. He removed the evidence, but he could not remove the memory of what he had done. He gazed at Furcas and cringed. Lucifer was right. Furcas was not an inconsistency. He was not a thing. He was a wonder, a complex gift, a faultless ever-changing marvel.

  Paimon had searched the stars for fulfillment and found a companion. A partner he could learn for eternity and never tire of, an equation without end. Furcas embodied everything he desired, but he had not understood the obvious. He returned Furcas’ affection with violence and hate. He’d ruined him, nearly killed him because he was the one that was stupid and afraid. But he loved him. He had since first sight.

  Paimon covered his eyes. He had damaged Furcas in an unforgivable way. Furcas could never love him in return, not after what he had done and said. And that was good, because Furcas deserved better, far better than he could ever be. Paimon pressed his forehead to the ground, buried in loss and heartache, his soul awash in regret. He clawed his way to Furcas, sick with grief and guilt, driven by a desire to set something right. He had to tell him.

  Paimon opened his mouth; he tried to verbalize these thoughts and feelings, but nothing escaped his lips. Ladriam had given him the gift to feel and understand, not to express. He tried to touch Furcas. Furcas flinched. Paimon moaned. “I—”

  Furcas reached out and touched his cheek. “I forgive you, Archangel.”

  Paimon exhaled in a cry, “Why?”

  “I love you.”

  Paimon knew both to be true through his touch. He burst into tears and shook his head. “Do not! Please do not!”

  Furcas drew his finger across Paimon’s cheek. “I do.”

  Paimon seized his hand. He pulled Furcas into his arms. He held Furcas and kissed his cheeks, his forehead, and his neck. He wrapped his fingers in Furcas’ hair. “You are beautiful.” He understood the term now. He understood everything Furcas had done or appreciated.

  Furcas smiled. “You are.”

  Paimon drew back. “No. No. No.”

  Furcas caressed his face and Paimon saw himself through the angel’s eyes. He cringed. Furcas did not judge his actions. He did not hold a grudge against him or fear further pain. He admired him, thought him handsome and smart, better. Furcas even felt Paimon’s actions must have had some justification.

  Paimon gagged and pushed Furcas’ hands off his face. “You did not deserve that. I am at fault, only me. What I did is vile. Do not think of me as good again, ever.”

  “But you are, you are Archangel.”

  “That means n
othing!” Paimon cupped his face. “I am not better than you.”

  Furcas shook his head. “You are. It requires no thinking. It is fact, Archangel.”

  “I said no. I am no greater than you. I am far worse in fact. I am terrible and I was wrong. What I did, what I said, all of it was wrong.”

  “Wrong?” Furcas searched his features. “You are Archangel, I am just a guardian.”

  “That does not matter between us. You will also stop referring to me as Archangel, I am Paimon.” He pointed his finger in Furcas’ face. “I say it is so and that is how it will be.”

  Furcas nodded along with him. “Yes.”

  Paimon narrowed his eyes. “Do not placate me with words, I can feel the truth. Do you understand? You will stop thinking these foolish pleasant things about me immediately. Think of yourself, you are better. Think this way now. Do it.”

  Furcas looked up at him shyly. “Make me…Paimon.”

  Paimon eyed him. “I will then.” He kissed Furcas’ wings. “I will teach it to you.”

  Furcas hit at him weakly. “Not fair.”

  Paimon pushed Furcas up against the tree Lucifer and Ladriam had run up against earlier. He recognized what would please and entice, and he wanted nothing more than to bring a smile back to Furcas’ face. He held Furcas in place with his weight, while his lips and hands explored and reveled in him. “Fair?” Paimon nipped at his ear as Furcas moaned. “What a ridiculous concept.”

  ***

  Paimon and Lucifer stood under the earth. Hephaestus molded the dirt and rock around them. Paimon and Lucifer shared an uneasy look. Lucifer reached out and touched his arm. “You must not let go of me while I play.”

  “Understood.”

  Hephaestus tensed. “Are you ready?”

  The two nodded. “Yes.”

  Hephaestus ripped the earth open and formed a staircase to the surface. Lucifer went first, violin in hand. Paimon ran up after him; he held Dahlia’s teddy bear. Both Fallen were dressed to kill, compliments of Spider. Lucifer wore a designer suit in charcoal gray. Paimon had on his finest leather lab coat, replete with too many pockets and several flasks. A digital camera hung around his neck.