Forgotten Fates

by S J Doran

  “So very often,” Mephistopheles said, finally breaking the silence, “I’ve seen the fallout from the offering of the firstborn child. I personally don’t make compacts of that sort. Children are innocent of their parent’s sins, after all.”

  “Very decent of you old chap.” Levistus said, leaning back into his clasped hands, “but you should stop now.”

  Mephistopheles shot him a look Cass couldn’t decipher, then took off his hat and dusted off the top with dramatic flourish.

  “I’d like to know where you were leading with that statement.” Cass said, scowling at Levistus and leaning forward onto his elbows.

  Azure eyes peeked up from absurdly long lashes as Mephistopheles looked over to Levistus before dismissing him and looking back to Cass.

  “Your mother sought her family’s power to be returned. The old gods, long forgotten, wither in their immortality. Powerless. Useless.” The demon’s eyes were hypnotic as was his voice. “Power your father has basked in for millennia. It was really only a matter of time before a grasp was made to take back what was theirs…”

  “Stop speaking, Lucifer.” Levistus hissed.

  The demon shrugged, turning his attention briefly to Jez, his features softening for an instant before shifting back into that mocking smirk that seemed etched on his face.

  “Can’t help but be intrigued by the by-product of such deals, Levistus.” Mephistopheles said as he snapped his fingers.

  Worn souls entered the room carrying trays, setting them down with a groveling bow, keeping their eyes lowered and backing out of the room as stealthily as they entered.

  “Did she regret it?” Cass said, ignoring the serving of refreshments. He wasn’t so slow that he hadn’t picked up on the subtext of the non-conversation. They spoke of his mother. He’d probed, scraped, searched his memories for any trace of the woman that birthed him, was always met with blinding headaches and emptiness. They knew who she was. And Levistus was trying to change the subject.

  “She would have to be a stone-cold bitch not to.” Mephistopheles said as he tapped his spoon on the side of his tea cup. “Help yourselves. It’s not poisoned.”

  Cass poured himself a cup of tea as a show of good faith. Even if it were poisoned, he was immune to all but the worst of them, thanks to his Priestess’s offerings over the years. All the times… no. He wasn’t going to think of her. He rubbed away the ache in his chest, willing the intruding thoughts away.

  “Perhaps she left that all with you.” Mephistopheles said, watching Cass closely again, eyes wandering to his chest then back up. “The demon boy-king with the protection of an ancient and bygone goddess.”

  “The King needs to know who stands at his side.” Levistus said, his voice a growl, “you’re his last line of defense against internal attacks.”

  “And the King is expecting to war with his own denizens?” Mephistopheles said, sipping his tea, his eyes bright with amusement as he looked over the rim of his cup.

  “The King,” Cass sat up, letting his rage leak into his tone, “will be prepared for any circumstance.”

  “You once had compassion.” Jez finally spoke, “felt love. Have you gone so far to the dark that you’ve forgotten where you came from?”

  The beast flashed back into existence long enough to snarl at the angel. “Do not.” Mephistopheles’s hand shook as he set his tea cup into the saucer, hot liquid splashing over the sides, “refer to things your malleable mind cannot comprehend. You’ve had your own will for how long, Jez’Piel?”

  Jez’s jaw dropped in shock.

  “I was created with a will of my own. Free to decide. The fact that my decisions were deemed wrong,” the demon’s chest heaved, actual flames lighting up his fingertips.

  “Your decisions caused a war the heavens still haven’t recovered from,” Jez snarled out.

  “I have enemies.” Cass cut in, diverting Mephistopheles’s attention. “Some inherited, some of my own making. I need to know who stands on my side. I hoped that you of all of them would stand against my father’s return.”

  Mephistopheles snorted, relaxing back into his chair, once more the affable gentleman. “The tides have turned. Asmodeus was growing feeble, stretching himself too thin- reaching for more power was a terribly unreasonable thing to do since the power he wielded was already warping his mind.”

  “His mind was unstable because of the power?” Cass said, leaning toward the other demon. Could this be what was going on with his own mind? His new influx of power was unstable...

  Mephistopheles met his eyes directly. “Your father had his finger in too many pots. Trusted none. Felt nothing. You, though- as arrogant and brash as you are, have heart.” His eyes moved to Cass’s chest, as though looking through him to the organ in question. “Don’t let this realm rot your mind.”

  It was Cass’s turn to scoff. “My mind was never my own.”

  Levistus groaned, slapping his hand to his mouth, stopping it too late.

  “I’ll stand by you.” Mephistopheles said, looking at Levistus with open curiosity. “Until you prove otherwise, you are showing a cunning in thinking outside of the box, so they say.” He pointed a finger up, “binding yourself to a celestial. Taking on an advisor that knows all the inner workings of the politics. Placing power holders on the material plane. Yes. Clever young creature.”

  Cass hadn’t gone out of his way to make any of those decisions, but he would accept credit. Things had been set up exactly as the fallen angel said- but more that they’d fallen into his lap.

  “Your sister will make for a nasty enemy, Cassius.” Mephistopheles said with an arch of his brow.

  It was Cass’s turn to be shocked.

  “Still have spies everywhere.” Levistus said with a soft chuckle.

  “It suits me to do so.” Mephistopheles nodded. “I’ll pledge my armies, but there is a warlock I want in return.”

  Cass shook his head, his brows a permanent furrow by this point. “Warlock?”

  “Yes, Prince of Lust. I get lonely. There is a warlock I want. I need introductions.”

  “You want me… as a dating service?” Cass was dumbfounded. Of all the shit he could have been asked to do…

  “You’ll bring me to your Priestess’ temple, she’ll make introductions.” Mephistopheles nodded, satisfied with himself.

  “I uh…” Cass’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t seen her since Ostara. Nope. He wasn’t going to think of that.

  “They have to stay apart.” Levistus said, his voice cold.

  “So says you.” Mephistopheles glared at Levistus then turned back to Cass.

  “I’ll see to it.” Cass said quietly, not trusting his voice.

  “Why her? Can’t you just tell Cass the name of the warlock? He could summon her.” Jez said, reaching across the table to grab Cass’s hand, the motion followed by Mephistopheles’s glowing blue eyes.

  “Is the boy going to let his feelings dictate his rule?” Mephistopheles’s tone was warning.

  “Course not.” Cass said with assurance, getting to his feet. He was done. He couldn’t do this anymore. He didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to remember.

  “As I thought.” Mephistopheles got to his feet as well, offering his hand to Cass in a handshake.

  Cass took it after a minute hesitation, bracing himself. The surge of energy between the two of them was almost… pleasant. He felt like Jez. Warm and reassuring. Cass sensed no malicious intent.

  “Geyron and Beelzebul are staunch allies of Glasya. Stay clear of their realms.” Mephistopheles spoke low, for Cass’s ears only. “Don’t be a stranger.”

  The amount of mortal colloquialisms the fallen angel used told Cass just how much time he spent with humans. Rumor had it he watched the mortal realm the same way humans watched soap operas. Whatever amused. After all those years, it was probably all he had left.

  Cass breathed a little easier back in his own room. Relief that was over- that it went as well as it did, and with the knowle
dge that he had some defense lined up. He’d worry about introductions to Amara when he needed to, for tonight, he drove all thoughts of her from his mind and relaxed into his sofa, grabbing a book off the tea table and kicking up his feet.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  impressive, in spite of

  “The numbers are impressive Dominus Malachi. The reported incidents of violence between warlock and gargoyle are a but a fraction of what was anticipated.”

  Amara had traveled to the Dominium of Acides, one of the nine continents of Asurim to oversee the progress reports with Dominus Malachi. The work and change of atmosphere a welcome distraction from her own mind, which kept returning to the celebration of Ostara, and that look of betrayal which had shone from within coal dark eyes.

  “Abolishing gargoyle slavery and ending two millennia of prejudice is no small task, Sarratum Sa. Fortunately, the steady influx of wealth and infernal energy has left many of denizens more open minded towards interracial tolerance. As long as it works in their benefit, of course.”

  “Greed triumphs over hate....” She sounded sullen even to her own ears.

  “Claim any victory you can Sarratum, even if its taste is bitter rather than sweet.” Dominus Malachi was sitting opposite of her, both buried deeply within the piles of ledgers cluttering the desk.

  His office was bright, the midday sun casting purple rays of light through the large window panels. Around the room rich tapestries were displayed against walls carved from quartz stone. The furniture a classic style combining heavy iron and dark wood, the chairs they occupied worn, but comfortable.

  “It won’t be a victory until there are no more names listed on these reports…” She scanned the ledgers, reading off the names of victims who had been subjected to the illegal practice of blood cleansing. A chillingly familiar term inscribed upon the page caught her attention.

  “An abomination donated to the institute— is this about Maleficus? Did you discover what happened to his parents?” They had been searching for them, hoping they could help shed some light on the mystery regarding his conception.

  It was Malachi’s turn to grimace as he looked up from his documents.

  “Yes, that was my main reason for asking you to join me here today. From what we were able to gather, the boy’s mother, a warlock, was subjected to the cleansing ritual after giving birth to what her parents considered to be an abomination. She died after having been exposed to a flame of Hexafire.”

  Amara let out an exasperated groan, which her dominus chose to ignore as he continued.

  “The father, a gargoyle was executed publicly on the presumably false charge of rape. His body was quartered and placed on display outside the girl’s parental home. The grandparents then donated the infant to the institute for research under the vow that his parentage would never be made public knowledge, sparing the family the burden of shame.”

  With a heavy sense of defeat Amara’s head fell into her palms, elbows leaning heavily upon the wooden desk. Slavery and purging, antiquated practices which her people clung to even though she had declared them illegal years ago.

  “These blood cleansings have to stop Malachi. We finally had a warlock female successfully conceive, and they murdered her for it. This is madness!”

  Slavery only succeeded to divide, rather than unite their people. And blood cleansings were nothing more than a purge, a way for society to rid itself of individuals considered unworthy. Most of the victims were warlocks with no crime other than their magick simply failing to awaken. Or gargoyles who broke free from their clans wishing for a life of their own.

  As soon as one stood accused of bringing shame to the family name, the blood cleansing rite could be called upon. The victim would die a gruesome death, the act cleansing away the shame wrought upon their family.

  The list of names before her stood evidence of the fact that change wasn’t swift enough, and still she was being met with resistance at every turn.

  “How fares young Maleficus?” She had been so caught up with the sin-eater that she hadn’t paid due attention to the boy’s progress. Dominus Oberith and Er-Agate had seen to all his needs before sending him off to the Academy of magic.

  As her ward, the boy would be kept safe and well cared for, of this she had no doubt. But Maleficus had been a prisoner of the institute since infancy and sudden freedom could be frightening. She understood that perfectly.

  When she lifted her head, it was to find her dominus staring at her with a curious expression, an easy smile upturning the corner of his lips.

  “I could summon for head-magister Kadeon from the Acides academy, he would be able to answer any questions you have regarding the progress of young Maleficus. Or...” An excited glint sparked within his hazel eyes. “We could go to the academy and have you determined the boy’s wellbeing for yourself.”

  She scrunched her nose at him “Am I truly that obvious?”

  “Only to those who know to pay attention, highness.” Again he smiled, a disarming gesture which had served to elevate Malachi to one of her favorite advisors. He was clever, loyal and shockingly compassionate for one of warlock heritage. Which was good, for it helped balanced his notoriously mercurial temperament.

  “I am not so sure it’s a good idea, Dominus. Having me show up at his school won’t exactly aid the illusion of a normal childhood.”

  “With all due respect highness, Maleficus will never have a normal childhood or life. He will be met with prejudice everywhere he goes. If anything, your support will help ease that burden by forcing society to accept him.”

  “I would like to visit the academy…” She could speak with his magisters and caretakers, but meeting with Maleficus himself was perhaps too great a risk. Already she thought of him fondly, which placed him at risk from Namtar as much as anyone else allowed too close.

  “We shall go, but please make it so the boy is not aware of my visit. Oh, Agate,” an idea took hold as she beckoned for her first attendant, reaching for pen and paper before quickly scribbling down instructions. “Have these volumes retrieved from my private collection and meet us at the academy as soon as you can.”

  Not twenty minutes later she and her entourage were being escorted along the long halls of the academy. “My apologies highness, morning classes tend to be a bit chaotic, and I believe word of your presence have caused a bit of a stir amongst faculty.”

  Head-magister Kadeon had been gracious and welcoming from the moment they had arrived, despite his obvious bewilderment her sudden visit.

  “My apologies for the unexpected intrusion upon your schedule Head-magister, we will not be taking up much of your time. I merely wish to see the boy, but rest assured I have no intentions of distracting him from his daily routine. In fact, I would prefer it if Maleficus was not made aware of my visit.”

  She followed the head- magister into a secluded wing of the academy, the number of guards posted significantly larger, and the students much younger of age.

  “According to schedule young Maleficus is currently at recess. You will be out of view within the alcove, he will not know you were here until you have already departed the academy grounds.”

  Doors were opened to a small terrace, framed by a pergola thickly overgrown with ivy, providing shelter from the bright sunlight while hiding her from view. From here she could see a courtyard with a small group of children scattered about. Her gaze was instantly drawn to the solitary figure of a scrawny boy, busy with doodling figures upon the ground. His hair still an unruly mop, with two small horns peeking out.

  After a moment she realized he was in fact not doodling, but drawing neat circles upon the soil. “Summoning is a skill too advanced for one his age, is it not?”

  The head-magister’s chest puffed up proudly “It is, but young Maleficus has frightened his magisters a few times by coming very close to succeeding. Although I doubt he knew what he was summoning. The boy possesses an astounding ability for magic.”

  Pride filled her as sh
e kept her gaze fixed upon the huddled form of the child, watching in fascination as he diligently drew circle after circle. “Yes, he is quite magnificent is he not?”

  “Our children will have your eyes, Assat Sa”

  “And your smile, vir meus”

  “Highness are you alright?”

  Amara shook her head, her hand blindly reaching out to the pergola for support. “It’s nothing.” A lie. The memories were growing more frequent and too persistent, no longer haunting just her dreams, but invading her thoughts.

  She felt his fingers tentatively close around her elbow, and she allowed it. Malachi’s concerned voice sounding low enough so only she could hear “Sarratum Sa, you are pale as a ghost. Did you perhaps have a vision?”

  “No visions Dominus, we both know visions aren’t my strong suit, only ghosts. Please do not concern yourself, I am well.”

  “Let me fetch you some...”

  A scream tore through the courtyard, making all present turn their attention back towards the children, discovering a fight broken out amongst them. The scream had come from a young girl, encircled by a group of larger children who were pulling at a stuffed toy she was desperately clinging to.

  The scream turned to crying when the girl fell to the ground, encouraging the largest child to kick her in the stomach while quickly snatching up the stuffed animal.

  “Damnation, is this sort of behaviour typical of your students?” Mara growled at the head-magister who looked on in dismay. He was about to take a step towards the children when pulled back by her dominus “wait, let’s see what he does...”

  Maleficus had also turned upon hearing her cry, his grey skin darkening as he looked down at the small figure crying on the ground. Before any of them realized his intention, he rushed for the boy who currently holding her doll.

  -CRUNCH-

  A howl of pain followed the all too familiar sound of shattering bone before the boy ran off. “He broke my nose!”

  Maleficus reached for the doll, yet rather than return it to the girl as Amara had expected, the lout stuffed it into his pocket then nonchalantly sauntered off to where he had been practicing his circles.