by Plum Pascal
Dragan stares at Baron for a moment, as if he’s processing Baron’s words. And then, his knees bend beneath him and he launches himself once more into the air. His wings tight to his side, he soars like a rocket to the tops of the trees, where he lets loose a yell so intense, it feels as though the entire forest echoes. With a large gust of wind, his wings spread open, fanning air through the trees like a cyclone, spilling leaves to the forest floor. He hangs, immobile, above us. So high, his abnormally large body looks small and far away.
When Dragan returns to the ground, more gently this time, his face is stony and unyielding. His thick, intense brows are knotted together. “We must get his body.”
“Are you kidding?” I ask him, incredulous. “We just barely made it out alive! None of us are going back!”
“Cambion is right. It’s too dangerous,” Baron agrees. “Thoradin is dead. There’s nothing we can do for him now.”
Dragan’s eyebrows furrow even more furiously. He grunts, then begins to walk away from the group. Eilish starts after him, but Baron puts out a hand to stop her.
“Let him go,” he says. His voice is gentle and I wonder why. Perhaps it’s just my imagination but it seems Baron has softened towards the mystery angel. I’m not certain why and I believe it foolish on his part. We still know nothing about her and it’s for that exact reason that I don’t trust her.
Reluctantly, she obeys. Dragan’s figure disappears into the darkness of the trees before us. We stand in silence for a moment, staring at the ground, and I begin to replay everything that just happened. I can’t unsee the image of the blade plunging deep into Thoradin’s chest. My time with him has been short, yes, but his loyalty to his king was something I admired.
“He was a good man,” I say aloud. The group somberly nods.
“Shouldn’t we go and look for Dragan?” Eilish worries. I want to lean in and touch her, though I can’t explain why. Regardless, I resist, and instead just stare into the shadows where Dragan disappeared, shaking my head no.
“Thoradin was a loyal friend. He won’t take the loss easily,” I tell her. “And now, he needs time to himself. To grieve.”
Baron nods somberly.
“Don’t worry, angel,” the sprite says as he manifests from nowhere. The bloody thing is beyond irritating. “I got somethin’ that’ll cheer you up!” He flies to a nearby tree, where he picks up something that’s obviously heavy—his wings struggle with the new weight of whatever it is he’s carrying.
As he returns, I have to squint to see the object in the dim. But, when he comes closer, I make out the turquoise blue of Riverine. He triumphantly brings the rock into the circle and offers it to Eilish, who extends her palm.
He drops the stone into her hand and places his hands on his hips. “Just when youze was startin’ to think I wasn’t worth nothin’!”
Baron and I exchange a look.
It appears luck is finally on our side.
###
Dragan
The intensity of my grief at Thoradin’s death surprises me.
In general, I don’t consider myself a man who makes close ties or associations. Yes, Thoradin stood by my side since the Great War, but I would never have labeled us ‘close.’ And yet, now, looking back, maybe I should have.
I can’t help but feel responsible for his death. I brought Thoradin on this journey with me, pulled him away from the Shadow Realm where his immortality was guaranteed. I put him at risk when this was my mission, my atonement for my own personal failures. I had no business putting his life in danger.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve sat in a similar position: head in my hands, stone in my heart, and a hardened resolve never to care about another person again.
I’ve fought my closeness with Eilish for this reason. Maybe it’s why I reacted so badly at discovering she’s more than she is—that she could be Succubus. Maybe my reaction was just an excuse to crawl back into my hardened shell, to refuse to be close to her.
No, I tell myself. Your reaction was born from the fact that she fooled you. She seduced you and you fell for it, because that’s what Succubae do.
I’m a fucking fool.
Yes, I know only too well what Succubae do—how they destroy a man, how they suck from him his very will to live.
At the thought that Eilish fed off my life energy, I feel my hands fist. I’m convinced that’s what happened—it was the reason why I was exhausted after I fucked her, and she felt so invigorated.
Yet, the feeling when and after I fucked Eilish was different to the feelings when I fucked Lamia and her daughters. Instead of the icy tendrils of power that reached into me, sucking out my life force, I felt tired, yes, but invigorated as well. I never experienced the gut wrenching pain I did with Lamia, nor the need to wretch up my insides.
The only similarity between both experiences was the exhaustion, the feeling of something being drained from me. But even that feeling didn’t last long with Eilish. Nowhere near as long as it did with Lamia, at any rate.
The more I consider sex with Eilish, the more I realize it can’t really be compared to sex with Lamia.
Regardless, Eilish fed off you and decreased your strength, I remind myself. Maybe fucking Eilish was more pleasurable than fucking Lamia, but it doesn’t change the fact that Eilish stole your vitality from you.
Yes, Eilish did feed from me without even realizing it.
Or maybe she did realize it and pretended otherwise, I correct myself. Cambion was right; we shouldn’t trust her. And now that I know what she truly is, how could I ever bring myself to trust her again?
Because, truly, if she is Succubus and angel, she’d be powerful in an unknown way as this pairing has never been seen before. I still don’t understand how it’s even possible.
Or would she be more powerful? I argue internally. Maybe the darkness in her merely contradicts the light, neutralizing her angelic abilities?
Maybe she isn’t even angel at all?
I know that logic isn’t sound. When Cambion performed the Enchantment of True Seeing, Eilish revealed the truth—that she was angel. And, furthermore, I’ve seen firsthand what she can do—what she did to the bone devil. She annihilated it—blasted it with light magic that surprised us all. She’s powerful and then some.
And that is a realization that scares me because I remember, only too well, the power of the Succubae. I shudder as I think Eilish is one and the same as Lamia—that she’s demon.
But is it right or fair to blame her for the fact that she’s a crossbreed? It’s not as though she can help it.
That no longer matters, I argue back. What matters now is deciding whether her angelic or demonic side is more in control. And treating her accordingly.
Either way, I don’t trust her, and I’m going to keep her at arm’s length until I learn more. One thing’s for sure: if she turns out to be against us, she’ll be an enemy that will be difficult to defeat.
Thinking back to Lamia, I feel my heart drop.
I don’t want to have to murder Eilish, but I will, if it comes down to it.
Murder Eilish…
The idea causes something to revolt deep inside me. At the thought of Eilish’s lifeless eyes, I want to commit murder myself.
If she’s Succubus…
I can’t finish the thought.
My inner debate continues to whirl around in my head, with no obvious answers. After another few minutes, my extreme frustration forces me to shelve the conversation for the time being. Instead, I think back to Thoradin, and a weighty feeling descends over me once more.
In the moments following a death, it’s difficult not to think of life and how very fragile it all is. I’ve seen, time and time again, how cruelly it can be ripped away.
Thoradin stood by my side since he was a young man. I watched him grow as a fighter, as a leader, and as a man. And in that time, I never regarded him as anything more than a faithful underling. I kept the line in my mind drawn and sealed. And
now, I regret it.
A wave of sorrow washes over me, followed by an intense rage. I feel my hands fist at my sides as my skin grows hot. I want to punish the one who sent Thoradin to the other side, the same way I wanted to punish Variant for murdering Baron, our brother. Or the person who used to be our brother. As to Baron now? He’s not Baron; he’s Revenant.
I don’t believe he’s the same person. And I don’t like him. I don’t trust him.
But do we need him? I ask myself. I don’t know the answer.
All I do know is that this upcoming war against Variant matters now more than anything. In the long, dwindling hours of shadow where I tormented myself with guilt, Thoradin stood faithfully beside me. He never saw me as anything less than his king. To have him taken from me now feels like another in a long line of personal failures.
Avenging Thoradin’s death is now my only solace. Eilish has been lost to me and Baron is a man I don’t know… And I can’t fucking stand Cambion.
Thoradin’s death was unnecessary and it fills me with venomous anger. Furthermore, my view of myself as protector is naïve. It’s foolish of me to think I can protect Eilish. And now, I’m not even sure I want to.
Of course, you want to! I yell at myself as an image of Eilish suffering at the hands of Variant drops into my head. Instantly, my body goes into attack mode, and I realize with fury that she’s still underneath my skin. I still care about her, even though I hate myself for it.
Regardless, I have to face the truth in the reasons why I’m now where I am, the reasons why Thoradin is dead. My ego led to our capture. I shouldn’t have bothered with Cambion back on the road, before Anona overtook us.
Cambion was just being his assholish self. My temper got the best of me when I should have realized the situation we were in.
This is entirely my fucking fault and I will never forgive myself.
I sit alone in the dark forest, racked with grief. It’s not just for the loss of Thoradin, a heavy price, but for the loss of faith in myself. For the loss of… hope in Eilish. She’s a wild card now, and that makes me wonder what I’m really even doing. When she was fully angel, I believed she was the answer to defeating Variant but now...
Does this mean she isn’t the answer to defeating Variant?
I don’t fucking know because I don’t even know how much of her is Succubus and how much angel.
I pick up a rock and close my fist tightly around it. Squeezing until the rock punctures my palm, the pain shoots up my forearm and into my shoulder. When I open my hand, the rock has crumbled into pieces of gravel—all colored red with my blood. I release the crumbles and wipe my wet hand against my pants.
Suddenly, I hear someone approaching from behind me and quickly turn my head to identify my company.
It’s Eilish.
The last fucking person I want to deal with right now.
She comes to sit next to me, the flesh of her leg touching mine.
I hate myself for the reaction she has on me—the heaviness in my groin, the memories of thrusting inside her.
Fuck me, but I still want her.
Now.
SIX
Dragan
Mortal Realm
“I’m sorry,” Eilish says. I assume she’s referring to Thoradin.
Her eyes are downcast and in the light of the pale moon, I see tears in them. I feel something in my chest, an ache not unlike the feeling of Midnight Tears.
Her hair falls in front of her face, obscuring her for a moment. She raises her hand to tuck the white strands behind her ear. I notice there’s a freckle on the pointed section of her ear. I find myself thinking it’s the most beautiful thing about her.
“There’s no point in being sorry,” I respond gruffly. “It won’t bring him back.”
“I’m not just sorry for Thoradin,” she answers and refuses to look at me.
“What else are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry for disappointing you,” she says, and the tears start in earnest. She still won’t look at me and a pinkish hue flushes her cheeks, pointing at her embarrassment. “I didn’t know I was Succubus.”
“We still don’t know if that’s what you are,” I remind her crossly. Anger is already tiding inside me and I’m not sure why.
“Baron seems to be convinced.”
“He’s been wrong before.” I pick up another rock and throw it, watching as it hits one of the trees in front of us. “And who the fuck is Baron anyway?”
She looks at me in question. “What do you mean?”
“Baron isn’t the same man he was before… before he was brought back to life. He’s someone different.”
“He’s Revenant,” she says with a shrug as she looks at me then and gives me a small smile.
“Yes,” I say with a quick nod. “He is Revenant.”
“Whatever I am,” she starts up again. “I didn’t mean to be this way.” Then she shakes her head. “That came out wrong.” She inhales deeply. “What I mean to say is I didn’t know I was what I am.”
I’m not sure I believe her, but I nod all the same. She continues.
“And I realize whatever… I am… has changed things between us.” Looking down at her feet, she sighs.
“I don’t know what to think anymore, Eilish.”
“I know.”
“Succubae are demons. They’re selfish, manipulative, and scheming. What’s more, they’re extremely powerful and most men can’t resist them.” I decide not to tell her of my own personal experiences with Lamia and her fucking daughters. It’s a memory that’s better left buried beneath all my other failures.
Eilish nods sadly, then looks back up at me. “For whatever it’s worth, I wasn’t manipulating you back at Master Ash’s. I… everything we did felt… right, to me. I did it because I wanted to… be close to you.”
I swallow hard and have to force down the need to take her again, right here. But I’m not sure if the need is based on my true attraction to her or if the Succubus side of her is merely pulling my strings. “You might not even truly want me,” I say in a scratchy voice.
“Not want you?”
“It could simply be the Succubus working through you without you even being aware of it. If you are Succubus, it means you have… needs that must be met.”
“Needs?”
I nod. “Succubae must have… sex to survive.” I can’t look at her. “That’s why I said you might not be as attracted to me as you think you are. It could just be your survival instinct.”
“Then how would I ever know what I truly want versus what this… part of me wants?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
She nods and then wipes her eyes on her sleeve, and I feel like an ass that I don’t reach out and hold her, comfort her.
But I can’t.
And I won’t.
###
Eilish
I feel so weighted by the conversation with Dragan that I begin to cry, much though I don’t want to. I don’t want him to witness my tears because I’m afraid he’ll think I’m weak.
But, to look at him now, makes my stomach turn because everything just seems so… so… unfair!
Even though shadows cling to his skin, he’s… beautiful. His olive skin, his black hair that dusts his shoulders. The angular planes of his face. The dark stubble that decorates his jaw, chin and cheeks. He’s impossibly large and broad, with shoulders that could encompass two men.
His heady, masculine scent wafts around me, filling me with the need to touch him. But then I wonder if this need is real or if it’s my traitorous body making me feel things that aren’t really there?
But then I look up at him and realize I’d be an absolute fool if I believed that.
Everything I feel for Dragan, it’s all real. Genuine. True.
His face is hard, and angry but there’s sorrow in the downturn of his lips.
I grow quiet and he looks over at me.
Our eyes meet and I feel like I’m shrinking in
side. I can barely hold his gaze, can hardly bring myself to look into the light gray of his eyes. I’m afraid of what’s in them…
Nothing.
I can remember a time when Dragan was my only ally and protector. He was the only one who cared about me, aside from Flumph. There was something between us then, something strong and beautiful.
And now… now that something has been torn into shreds. Now I have only Flumph.
It’s a truth that makes me want to drop my head and sob.
But I don’t.
Instead, I take deep breaths and talk myself away from my tears. I can’t lose control in front of him. I would die of humiliation.
I look up at him even though I beg myself not to.
He’s talking but I can’t fully pay attention to the words coming from his mouth, instead I’m caught in a memory.
A memory I can’t escape…
“Do you trust me?” I ask Dragan as I look up at him and realize I have to further explain. “Cambion doesn’t trust me.”
“Cambion’s an asshole.”
“But do you trust me?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Yes, I do.”
“I trust you, too,” I say quickly and feel a smile curling my lips. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For believing me.”
He chuckles, deep and low. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m not lying to you, Dragan. Everything I’ve told you is the truth. Well, as far as I know, anyway.”
“I know, Eilish,” he says, and his voice tells me not to worry about it anymore. “I know.”
###
Dragan
We sit for some time in silence, listening to the sounds of the forest and to one another’s breathing. The breeze through the leaves sounds like rushing water. Birds chirp, signaling the slow withdrawal of night and entrance into dawn.
It’s hard to be near her, especially when only a few moments ago I was reminding myself how dangerous closeness was. I continue to question myself over who the true Eilish is. Is she this innocent angel, or is she a highly deceptive demon?
The fucking worst part about the whole damned situation is that her being Succubus hasn’t changed my need for her. And this amazes me. Given what I went through at the hands of Lamia and her daughters, I never imagined I’d become ensnared by another Succubus again. And that subject on its own raises questions in my head…