by S J Doran
Thump-thud-smack.
He felt safe down here, and couldn’t reconcile the feeling. Colors were seeping in through new cracks in his world. Feelings he couldn’t put images to, images he couldn’t place...
Thump-thud-smack-
Basileus allying with his sister had blindsided him, and it shouldn’t have. He should have been expecting that his father’s right hand and Herald wasn’t on his side, no matter what sort of relationship they shared. And what sort of relationship did they have? There was a nagging feeling, he couldn’t pin it down, some part of him was afraid of Basileus.
THUMP-THUD-SMACK
“Are you trying to drive away what’s left of my sanity?” A croaking voice came from inside the cell.
Finally. It stirred.
Cass righted the chair, nearly stumbling to his feet, peering into the dank cell. A surge of familiarity rocked him as he stood before the bars, gone before he could grasp the reason for it.
“So you have a voice.” Cass said, taking in the figure huddled into a corner.
“I have many things I’d nearly forgotten.” Levistus inhaled deep. “Imagine, if you will. Retaining consciousness without control of a body for hundreds of years. Even drawing in a breath is intoxicating.”
Cass just scowled. He couldn’t imagine, nor did he want to. The thought of his body not being his to control took his breath.
“Glasya is your sister?” Levistus unfolded himself, finally standing. “Then you must be Cassius.”
He tilted his head, intently studying Cass.
“You look just like him, other than your coloring.” His voice cracked. Cass wasn’t sure if it was from emotion or disuse.
“I assume then, Glasya takes after her mother,” Cass said, taking a cheap shot at getting a reaction. He stepped closer to the ancient iron bars, trying to get a better view of the demon’s face.
Levistus stepped into the light. He was about half a foot shorter than Cass, putting him just over six feet, his skin pale and waxen looking, his eyes fully black and sunken. He was in fact, looking like he sorely needed some good nutrition and natural light.
“I finally get to see the son of Asmodeus with my own eyes,” Levistus smirked, the coldness of his expression setting off warning flags in Cass’s mind. “Where is the God of Sin, the almighty Asmodeus? Or do I not rate his personal attendance any longer?” His eyes briefly flashed, silver shining over coal black.
Cass closed his thoughts, lest they be given away by an expression.
“My father was banished to a forsaken realm when it was discovered he was making a play for more power than one being should hold.”
Levistus paused his fidgeting. “More power?” he stepped back so he could fully take Cass in. “Asmodeus gave up unfathomable power. Relinquished it when he made the decision to stay and rule the hells instead of remaining sentinel and answering to a higher power. Your father,” a glint entered Levistus’s eyes, “had no hunger for power, son. He worships order and craves worship. Every law he’s ever written circles back to that. Now. Try again.”
Cassius swallowed hard. This demon could unravel everything Cass had done.
“You know a lot about my father and family.” He had no explanation he could give Levistus that wasn’t the truth. “And seem curiously sane for someone who's been frozen for centuries.”
Levistus chuckled hoarsely. “So that’s how this is going to be?” he shifted, moving closer, “I have a Herald. We’re telepathically linked to our Heralds- which you would know if you had one of your own.”
“Basileus…”
“Basileus is your father’s creation.” Levistus cut him off. “You’re letting him shape your leadership?” He sneered.
“I am King by my own standing.” Cassius straightened, looking down at the smaller demon. “By right of inheritance.” He put his hand against the bars, leaning in. “I hold all of my father’s power.”
“The title means nothing. A king is he that can hold his own.” Levistus leaned closer himself, they were now nearly touching. “You are a child, putting on airs.”
Cassius let a growl slip.
Levistus’s smile deepened. “You are in need of an advisor.”
“It won’t be you.” Cass sneered back. “I will have someone I can trust.”
Levistus threw back his head and laughed, taking a moment to wipe his eyes. “Oh. Thank you. I’d forgotten how that felt.”
The floor trembled beneath his feet, his rising anger releasing in the form of a power surge.
Levistus reached through the bars and grabbed the front of Cass’s shirt.
“You’re looking at this from the wrong angle. Trust no one, know everything. I am not asking for your trust. I am offering my knowledge.”
“I don’t need to keep watching my back.” Cass grabbed his arm and threw it down. “I… can’t.”
Defeat washed through him, crushing his lungs from inside, settling in his gut. He’d been trying to ignore it. Instead, he’d been unknowingly feeding into it. Dwelling in self-pity.
“Now why would you allow me to see your weakness?” Levistus placed his hand on Cass’s arm. “I can feel your power and see you’ve let them win.”
Cass bared his teeth with a hiss. “They’ve won nothing.”
Levistus growled back. “You’ve let them break you. Tell me, son, exactly how long has Basileus been shaping you? How many years? Have you ever had a chance to develop outside of his influence?”
Cass flinched, and something inside of him withered. Had he? Basileus had been his only companion for as long as he could remember. He’d introduced him to lust and the ecstasy it brought. The addiction of it…
“They told me I’m the Prince of Lust and that’s why the women won’t leave me alone. That I have to practice control of my power or it will get worse.”
“Will you practice with me, like we do with my spells?”
He swallowed hard at the whispers of conversations flitting through his mind. Real? More likely he was losing his mind. The Nessus was known to corrupt.
“Why would I allow you any say?” Cass said evenly.
“Because I’m not asking for your trust. I will ask for no faith from you- but I will speak fully and without deceit. Can you say the same of any you are close to?”
He was tired. Plain speaking sounded good right now.
“I’m not releasing you.” Cass sighed, exhaustion washing through him.
“I’ve been frozen without movement for a millennium. This cell, as antiquated as it may be, is luxury compared to that.”
“Then what do you expect in return?” Cass wasn’t understanding. Negotiations only worked when both parties received what they needed.
Levistus’s eyes gleamed triumphantly. “There is nothing I want more than to see that your father never returns.”
He stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back, shifting his weight from side to side.
“Your father took everything from me,” he paced, “Benzosia.” Levistus closed his eyes, clenched his hands into fists, “He waited fifty torturous years before blaming me. For everything that he has stolen from me, I will take his son for myself.”
Cass stepped back at the vehemence in his voice.
“I don’t need another father.”
Levistus’s eyes burned as they landed on Cass, and he moved back up to the bars, “are you turning down my offer then?”
Cass pondered in silence. So many lies and games to untwist, he couldn’t grasp the common thread. Perhaps, some outside perspective would be welcome.
“I wasn’t turning it down.”
The demon smiled with evil malice. “All those who left me for dead shall be fearing my return.”
“You’re using me to further your own ends?” Disappointment leaked into his tone. He had no idea why he had expected anything else.
“First lesson. Everyone is using you to their own ends. Expect it. Use it against them. Hone your strength with your wits, because,
boy— you’re dealing with creatures who thrive on deceit. Do not look for goodness, it holds no purchase in the Hells.”
“You’re advising me to use your agenda against you?” His head was hurting. Hell, his heart was hurting. What was left of it.
“I can be the strongest tool in your arsenal. I am full of rage. I haven’t felt sunlight in over five hundred years. I’ve had nothing to do but make lists of my enemies’ trespasses.”
“When you unleash me upon your enemies, I will promise you an annihilation that will go down in the archives of all the nine hells that will be spoken of in hushed tones down generations, for fear that your wrath will once again be invoked.”
Cassius felt the truth of his words, the power behind his promise. The demon was breathing hard, wrath pouring off him in waves. He took it all in, the adrenaline rush that followed a feeding of wrath invigorating his weary body.
“What…” Cass found himself breathing hard as well, “do you expect from me?”
Levistus collected himself, cool and calm façade back in place.
“To start, some food and clothing. Then all I ask is for your ear and a mind open to learning.”
Cass had to sit, his heart hammering in his chest, blood pumping hotly, the void inside him now woken and seeking more.
“Let us begin with that then,” Cass said with a nod.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
what good is a prophecy
Vow your unwavering loyalty to me priestess, and this prison cell will be nothing more than a memory to you.
“You’ve lost the sword,” Domina Elmira’s sultry voice broke through the fog clouding Amara’s mind.
Memories were surfacing and growing persistent, as if a lid had been lifted from a box she struggled to keep tightly shut. Some of those memories were infinitely dear, some agonizing, others… devastating.
A different life, a different girl. Compartmentalize. As long as she kept convincing herself that none of it had happened to her, she could manage.
“I didn’t necessarily lose it, I know perfectly well where it is. It’s the getting it back which proves troublesome.” There would be no retrieving the sword as long as the death god kept it in his possession. Not as if she could physically cross the ether and make a demand for it.
“Really, how was I to know Namtar would simply vanish into the ether with it? The sword was supposed to be a god killer, he should have been dead.”
Domina Elmira pinned her with an incredulous stare, the set of her lips somewhere between amusement and consternation. “If you were seeking favor from the holy sword, perhaps slaughtering the entire Ghata’n population was not the best approach? It’s my understanding that an act of genocide does not usually place one on the favorable side of justice.”
Amara’s nose scrunched up in agitation, the oracle’s words wise, but not what she wanted to hear. “Others may believe it done with purpose, but you know very well it was never my intention to unleash the Draugr.”
Elmira’s tone held a hint of humor. “Indeed. Still, you poisoned an army of hired mercenaries, then resurrected their corpses and set the ravenous creatures loose upon the capital.”
Mara’s lips twisted into humorless grin. “I’d like to think of it as an act of justice on my part. You should have heard the outrageous fee they demanded for their service, pure robbery.”
The mercenaries had been needlessly cruel and hopelessly inefficient. More interested in raping and pillaging that which lay beyond the city walls than in securing her sword. As the undead they had proven themselves a much more effective weapon, and highly affordable.
“There are still those who seek vengeance for the Ghata’n, and we haven’t many allies left. Not to mention the three warlords who claim to have lost relatives amongst the mercenaries you… punished.”
The threat of attack had been a constant cause for concern ever since her return. All this commotion over a useless sword she had stolen, and then lost.
“As usual we pay off the warlords. And no need for allies; those foolish enough to declare war upon Asurim will soon find themselves sharing the fate of the Ghata’n.”
She wasn’t desperate for allies, the few worth keeping were not so easily frightened off. Her eyes dipped down to follow the symbols marking her palm, the sin-eater’s sigil. The demon didn’t fear her.
Elmira’s gaze never wavered. “Sarratum Sa, I spent months plucking through the threads of fate to discover its secrets and unravel its location. As your oracle and advisor, I must warn that it is imperative the sword finds its way back into your hands.”
With a barely contained snarl Mara sunk deeper into her seat. “It didn’t work Elmira, I see no reason to spend additional time and effort knowing both the curse and Namtar remain unaffected by it.”
Her head fell back against the ornate cathedra while her gaze roamed aimlessly through the hall. Unlike the dark onyx stone of the ninth temple, the second temple had been carved from amethyst crystal, the walls in hues of pale lavender to deepest violet. Black banners hung like columns through the open space, displaying the insignia of Asurim and its nine dominions. Each of the nine temples carried the scent of blood, but in the second it was almost lost in the aromatic smoke of frankincense and sage.
The energy within eased the tension between her eyes, and helped focus her thoughts. Along with focus came clarity and logic, enough of it to realize there was something oddly amiss with her Domina’s statement.
“Elmira, the sword was brought to Gaia because its presence had been sensed within Asurim, correct? And its energy imprint was so powerful the ley-lines weren't enough to prevent Namtar from discovering its location.”
With a slow roll off her shoulders Amara leaned in towards her Domina, her eyes locking with Elmira’s silvery gaze.
“If our enemies and the death god managed to get a lock on the sword’s imprint in such a short time, why did it take you, one of the most powerful oracles in the realms, three months to accomplish it?”
Her Domina had purposely stalled, of this she was convinced. Was she being betrayed? “Your life depends on your next words Elmira, so I suggest you speak truthfully....”
“It took me three days to discover its location, followed by three days to learn its origins, and three days to unravel its destiny.”
Anger began to feed her doubts. Elmira had lied to her. In keeping information from her Elmira had caused a breach of trust, such an act carried the label of treason upon it.
“Why did you delay?”
“My visions— I didn’t understand them. I wasn’t sure which destiny the sword would lead you towards, Sarratum sa. You were not sent to Ghata’n to break the curse, but to overthrow fate and help forge a new destiny for the Realms. Just as the prophecy foretold.”
“You delayed me because of a children's tale?”
“Sarratum, it's not a children's tale- it’s the end of times.”
Amara held no faith in the prophecies that were scattered across the realms, but her oracle clearly did. “You truly hold that much fear for a mere prophecy that you would disobey me? I asked you to find a way to break the curse, I don’t give a damn about destiny, or the realms.”
“It is not fear of the prophecy which caused me to hesitate, I don’t fear death. What I fear is fate, Sarratum… yours and that of our Sarrum.”
Power surged, shock and anger summoning forth her magic to spark around her causing darkness expand and siphon away the light within the hall.
“The Sarrum, my husband, is dead. Had you paid more attention to your visions, you would have seen his red thread already severed. As for your prophecy, died along with him…you wasted my time Elmira.”
She needed air, the smoke within the temple no longer calming but suffocating. Elmira had served her loyally as oracle and Domina for the better part of a century - that had to count for something. She felt betrayed and angered, but most of all she was rattled. Cassius would have been her Sarrum, her king. She had never even stop
ped to think of that. They had dreamed of escaping together, in reality they could have ruled together. With him at her side surely they would have elevated Asurim into greatness.
Destiny. It had already robbed her of everything, therefore she owed it nothing.
Amara was already marching off for the portal when Elmira’s voice called after her. “Fate leads us down an infinite number of paths, Sarratum sa. But only one of them leads to our salvation. My visions have shown the markers,” her voice changed, echoing the notes of the medium, “By a ribbon connected are the ring and the rod. Severed destinies healed through sword and Cod.”
“Destinies and prophecies are fairy tales, Elmira.” The words left her unsettled, but made little sense. “Now find me a way to end this damned curse… you will not be given a third chance.”
*
Elmira stared in the direction of the portal even long after it had closed. The fear she felt slowly subsiding, replaced with disbelief. “She spared me.”
“Did I not tell you she would?”
A cloaked figure approached from the shadows, the scent of sulfur and herbs betraying his identity as much as his aged voice did, yet all of these a glamour to hide his true form.
“En-Barbatos,” she lowered her head to him in reverence.” I don’t understand, she has never shown leniency before. Yet within the span of a few days she has taken on a ward, aided the demon king and forgiven an act of disobedience.”
A small bark of laughter followed that statement. “Never is a long-time oracle, and you have served the Sarratum for only a century. Did you think the sword would only restore his soul?”
Understanding dawned, “it restored her heart.”
“All this proves is that Amara isn’t a completely cold-hearted bitch. I fail to see how this proves the return of my king,” a third voice chimed in, a demon possessing the blinding beauty of his celestial brethren making his entrance inside the temple to join Elmira’s side. Mephistopheles, widely known as Lucifer, looked less than impressed with the developments.