Skies of Fyir Box Set

by Gabriela Voelske

  A scoff emerged from her lips as she continued with her duty, sliding him down to the floor in front of the shower. Her wings draped shadows over the angel as she darted around the room, locating Sariel a towel and what dregs of clothing she could locate. It was Dumon’s now repurposed clothes for her, but it was the only thing that would fit him within arm’s reach. She debated telling him the origin of the attire, though she suspected it to be to his ire.

  “You’re not that bad, though any demon can tell the difference between scent and caked on sweat, regardless whether you can or not.”

  “All I’m hearing is that yes, I do smell.”

  Muffled laughter seeped into the silence, broken up by a spurred on cough. One of them was enjoying this affair. A sigh followed the interrupted bout, pulling Sakura’s attention back to the angel.

  “Thanks for this. Teasing aside, I’ve been wanting a shower this whole time.”

  The demon offered an exaggerated bow, sweeping one arm towards the shower with fingers outstretched. Her antics gained another snigger before she explained how the shower worked and handed him her gathered supplies. With that done, she excused herself to give Sariel his privacy. She was only going to be on the other side of the door if he needed help.

  Perched on Dumon’s bed, Sakura twiddled her fingers. Inside the dark room, it was difficult to judge how much time had passed as she listened to the faint patter of water. After a while, she heard a voice demand her attention. With a knock to announce her presence, she stuck her head inside. Sariel was sat with a towel wrapped around his waist, fiddling with his wings.

  “Does Dumon happen to have a soft brush there? I’m not expecting you to have the tools to properly maintain feathered wings, but a soft brush will work well enough.”

  Sakura focused her attention on the distant cabinet, sifting through the multitude of draws that hid on its dark surface. Most of the tools were too harsh or not of interest, short of a comb which she stashed in a pocket for later. In the last draw sat a collection of brushes, from harsh, stiff bristles to softer, angel suitable bristles. A few swipes across her palm confirmed her choice and she presented her findings to Sariel. His fingers pressed against the brush, admiring the bristles as they tickled his skin.

  “This will be perfect, but uh, would you mind giving me a hand? I’m not that flexible.”

  “Sure thing, we’re not that flexible either,” Sakura replied. Proper wing maintenance was a two-person job if one wanted it done right. She took a moment to study the pattern of his feathers, to assert the direction she should brush. Feathers were similar to scales in terms of their desire not to be pushed the wrong way, or so she would expect. The angel made no vocal objection as she drifted the brush across his wing, starting from the top and working her way down. A myriad of water beads fell to the floor as she dislodged them from their soft bed of fibres, creating a shallow puddle below.

  His pinion feathers were her main attraction. They were an angel’s main flight arsenal, their pride and joy. Compared to the other, smaller feathers on his wing that she had sneaked a squeeze of, these feathers had a thick shaft. A difficult object to break with a swipe of a weapon. Her interest caught Sariel’s attention, or the gentle tugging on his feathers did. When she reached the last feather on the side she had been grooming, the wing spread wide, fluttering as the feathers opened up.

  Sakura backed off, unsure of the reason behind the sudden action.

  “I thought you’d appreciate a better view. You were giving them a good once over.”

  “Ha, well… Not every day I see an angel’s wing this close up. I’ve seen bird feathers, but these are something else.”

  A snort emerged from Sariel as she ran the soft, giant feathers through the tips of her fingers. Their weight was something she was curious about, given his comparative lack of weight when she carried him. Short of removing one of the feathers, she had no way of finding out that information. After a moment of poking and prodding, she returned to her original task, slipping in a comment that she didn’t want him to get cold.

  With the other side done, she offered the brush to Sariel for him to do the underside of his wings. He held up a hand, before gesturing her to continue.

  “You seem to be doing a fine job of that yourself,” Sariel remarked, “I’d say I’m surprised, but not really. Not with you.”

  The subtle flush enveloped her cheeks as she put her head down and soldiered on. Bit by bit, the remaining water and fluff were ordered by the brush. As she swapped to the other wing, she got a glance at Sariel’s body. His golden skin tone was still muted due to his illness, but in the dim light, she could detect a hint of gold. She also noted the minor areas of raised skin, more towards his wrists than anywhere else. A few larger ones existed on his chest, however.

  “You’re not the only one with a few scars. Even wooden blades can cut with enough force.”

  The ones on the arm she could see, but the ones on his chest? Those appeared to be more than just a splintered blade, they were too neat and too straight. Judging by Sariel’s attitude while in the South, she didn’t see the angel engaging in any combat while short of clothing or armour. Whatever did those wounds would’ve had to pierce through that, something she didn’t see wood managing. Sakura didn’t wish to dredge up any bad memories for him. She noticed that he had turned his wrists away from sight. Instead, she just gave him a warm smile and carried on.

  “There we go, all done. I’ll leave you to get dressed,” Sakura said, giving a brush a quick shake to dispel any excess water. She stepped out and exited to the healing chamber itself, placing the brush on a spare counter so it didn’t drip on anything important to Dumon. A moment later, Sariel joined her while patting down his hair with his towel. Compared to the attire she had got used to him wearing, he looked rather plain in the repurposed clothes. As much as he looked majestic in the regal clothing of the higher angels, the ordinary clothes flattered him.

  “Looking for something?” Sariel teased, before settling himself back on the bed he had been assigned to previously. He swept his head side to side, examining the room. Content, he tipped his hand towards the end of the bed. Sakura settled down, feigning innocence as the angel tried to tug the marginally too small shirt over his wrists. “No Uriel at least.”

  “Ah come on, you don’t mean that,” Sakura replied. The angel laughed, tilting his head to one side. “Now then, let’s do something about that hair.”

  She pulled the comb out of her pocket and wiggled it, teasing Sariel. This time he wasn’t keen on having her do it for him, holding out his hand to take it from her. When she jokingly refused, he tried to take it from her. Sakura then leant back, holding the comb aloft.

  “Hey c’mon, give me that,” he said, pushing up off the bed in an attempt to climb up the smaller demon. With a strong thrust, he managed to catch her wrist, just in time to hear laughter. Male laughter. Sariel craned his head around, his spare arm balanced near to Sakura’s neck.

  “Am I interrupting something?” Uriel remarked, trying his best to stifle another laugh. “She spruced you up, I see.”

  The Angel Monarch pinched the comb from Sakura’s hand as Sariel tried his best to hide, although his white body stood out against the pitch black room. He beckoned the young angel to one side, holding the comb tight with his other hand. Sariel did as told, remaining silent as his hair was teased out. They started a quiet conversation in angelic, intent to keep Sakura out of the loop. Given Sariel’s attitude, however, she expected that to be due to embarrassment.

  “Thanks for looking after him, kid,” Uriel said, swapping to common tongue to address her.

  “It’s been nice to have him along, even though he didn’t exactly ask to, did he?”

  Uriel laughed. “No, but he’s not in any trouble for that. Not with me, anyway. His mother has been worried.”

  “That I imagine she is,” Sariel interjected, a smile breaking through. Whatever the Monarch had said seemed to have worked with him,
or the reminder of his mother did.

  “All caught up with Sebastian, then?”

  “Yes. We’ll be heading back soon if Dumon deems Sariel fit to be back in Eriden.”

  “He’s not flying that distance is he?”

  Uriel gave the young angel a pat on the shoulder. “Now that we’re on speaking terms with your kind, teleportation is less of a hassle between our capitals. Just got to keep the connection hidden in case any miscreants decided to utilise it.”

  “Ah, that’s good. I’d rather he wasn’t exposed to the cold again.”

  “I’d rather I wasn’t, either,” Sariel added, a tease to remind Sakura that again, he was right there. “It’s rather cold here after being in the South.”

  “That it is. I can go find Dumon for you if you want, Uriel?” Sakura replied, the subtle darkening of her cheeks returning. The angel turned her down, however. He instructed her to use the remaining time to bid farewell to Sariel, he could track down the errant healer himself.

  With Uriel out of immediate earshot, Sariel exhaled. He fidgeted with his now neatened hair, correcting it to fit his style.

  “He doesn’t seem so bad,” she whispered, leaning in towards him. He chuckled, then sighed.

  “Uriel can be rather two-faced, though he’s never been like that with me. I still wasn’t sure how he was going to react to that.”

  “No harm in a bit of rough-housing, eh?”

  Sariel gave her a gentle shove and a wink, before bursting into laughter. It was a pastime he missed, and one he relished more than he thought he would. A shame then that things would return to normal once he returned home.

  “You take care back in Eriden now, you hear?”

  “Heh, you too. If your mother hassles you at all, we’re only just over the horizon.”

  “While I’d like to say I’d rather it didn’t get to that, I know it’s going to be a thing of when, rather than if.”

  The angel tried to offer her a smile, though, given the fact the whole thing in the South happened at all, she was right. “Really though, I mean it. While technically this is a demon problem, she is a Northerner and no one would argue intervening.”

  “Like that, eh?”

  “The more problematic ones wouldn’t say no to being given permission to attack a demon, more so if that permission came from a demon.”

  Sakura nodded if she wished it would rather not come to that. Given the goal to improve relationships between the races, she would rather not allow angels to attack demons, regardless of their relation to the North. Sariel and the others helping of their desire was another thing, it was the act of sanctioning it.

  “Anyway, I should go catch up to Uriel. Thanks for everything, and the clothes. I’ll get them sent back to you since I gathered they’re yours.”

  She paused, mouth agape, before laughing. “To be correct, they’re Dumon’s. He cut them up for me to wear. The fact they’re small on you was too much of a clue?”

  “There aren’t many demons of your height, or at least on a permanent basis. I also remember seeing you in them before.”

  “Right. I wasn’t exactly focusing on you then.”

  Her forgetfulness earned her a pat on the shoulder and a grin. Sariel hopped off the bed with a wobble or two on landing. He gave her a salute, along with a statement in angelic. A message of farewell, she assumed. The demon returned a message in kind, garnering a scoff. Was that the first time he had heard her speak in her native tongue? Or at least, when he was conscious enough to remember it.

  “Oh right, I need to fetch back my, you know,” Sariel remarked, staring at their southern bag of loot.

  “Yeah, I noticed you snuck your prize into my bag.”

  The angel laughed.

  “Give it to him when you get back to Eriden. It’s more personal than here. If he doesn’t question you on it first.”

  “I will. Thanks again for that.”

  With that done, Sariel disappeared behind the far curtain after fetching his gift. Sakura gave them a moment to leave, twiddling her fingers as she thought on what to do. The pressing thing to sort was her mother’s vengeance, but she had little ways to control that. Iliana would be her best bet, he knew her more than anyone. She sat still and thought on it until she saw that very demon making his way toward Dumon’s shower. He met her gaze, offering a smile.

  “Morning Sakura, or afternoon? It’s not obvious in here,” Iliana said, noticing her expression, “everything alright?”

  “Mind if we chat about… things?”

  “Let me grab a shower first, then I’m all yours.”

  Sakura nodded, returning to her thoughts. This was going to boil down to a battle, one she couldn’t tell the outcome of. If Lilith came out alive but Sakura victorious, were they just to hold her in Shadekeep’s cells? The North wasn’t going to like that, nor would it like Lilith’s death. What other option was there, though? Lilith wasn’t going to listen to a polite request to leave her alone.

  A while later Iliana reappeared, if Sakura was unsure how long she had been talking to herself. His hair was still notably dry, to which he had an explanation.

  “Is there a private bath I could perhaps use? I was going to just have a shower, but I noticed just how greasy my wings were.”

  “I’d imagine the male’s side of the bathing rooms is busy, but what is the female’s side is likely to be empty. I could always stick my head in first to make sure for you?”

  “Ah, thanks, kid. That sounds great.”

  She cracked a smile, leading Iliana in the direction which she believed to be correct. Dumon watched as they went, a sour expression spreading over his face. He tried to shake it off, but something stuck with him.

  “Everything alright?” Dyn said, having freshly woken up.

  “Call me what you will, but something was off about Iliana’s request,” Dumon replied, tapping his foot on the floor.

  “About wanting a bath?”

  “He was nervous. Why be nervous over such a benign request?”

  “He didn’t wish to impose?”

  Dumon shook his head. “Iliana was in the shower room too long to decide that his wings were greasy, you’d notice that quickly. My gut’s telling me something isn’t right.”

  Dyn wished to question why Iliana would wait until they were in Shadekeep to try anything, but Dumon’s unease had a profound effect.

  “Let’s go check on them, then?”

  Chapter 45: Suspicions

  The woman’s bathroom was empty as expected, so Sakura ushered Iliana inside. If anyone were to arrive in the meantime, she could always apologise and explain. She grabbed him some towels as he fiddled with his clothes, giving her a half-hearted scold about doing everything for him. With the towels deposited, she went in search of the tools to clean his wings. They should be stored here somewhere. Once they were found, she put them next to the towels.

  As she went to turn, she heard a door behind her start to open, in the direction of the shower cubicles. As it turns out, it wasn’t as empty as she thought. The lone occupant had just been quiet.

  “Sorry! He’s not going to look or anything. I thought no one was here,” Sakura shouted, keeping her back turned out of respect. Iliana too, kept his back turned, his breath flustered. The footsteps neared for a moment, perhaps eyeing up one of the towels or tools she requisitioned for Iliana. “If you want anything there, feel free to take it.”

  They approached once more, stopping near the towels. She heard one shuffle free of the pile, before being shook. Giving Iliana the once over while at it, probably.

  Iliana slid his hand over and grasped Sakura’s wrist. An unusual act, but not one she questioned. Not until he leant in.

  “Just trust me, okay?” he whispered into her ear, “I need you to do that.”

  A chill ran down her spine. The stranger was on her blind side. A deliberate act; this was no stranger. Before she even had time to contemplate his words, Iliana lunged behind her, dragging her over backwar
ds and grabbing the now obvious Lilith’s arm. She hissed and tried to react, but Iliana was faster. He shouted some rushed words, causing the trio to disappear.

  ***

  Dumon ran close to Dyn’s heel as the taller, and faster, demon listened to his directions while charging forth at full speed. They reached the bathing chamber and exchanged a look. If Dumon was wrong, he’d take the fall for being a judgemental idiot and he was fine with that. The two burst in, only to find it empty. Empty, aside from the neatly arranged items near the bath side and the discarded towel.

  “Ah, shit,” Dyn muttered.

  Chapter 46: A Grim Future

  Sakura’s vision changed from the dark expanse that was Shadekeep, to the bright, blue-grey stone that seemed more fitting for angels, if it weren’t for the demons stood staring at them. Iliana was still holding tight to her wrist, but Lilith had been grappled by someone else. Someone who looked five different degrees of pissed.

  “Who?” Lilith’s captor demanded, her voice causing those around to stand to attention.

  “This is Lilith’s daughter, mother,” Iliana said, keeping his tone as flat as he could, “she has been hiding her from you, and been trying to clear up after herself behind your back.”

  For the first time ever, Lilith appeared scared. Sakura saw her keep her head low as the stranger now revealed to be her mother glowered at her, not willing to meet her gaze or to argue Iliana’s claim. He had revealed something she wished to keep hidden.

  “…Daughter? You damned fool!”

  Lilith’s mother smashed a fist into the side of her face but kept her grip with the other hand. Despite the punishment, Lilith offered no quip aside from a pained growl. Sakura stared on in horror, her breath shallow. Iliana then gained her attention, if her ire was not directed at him.

  “Have her chained up and thrown in the dungeons. I will deal with her later.”

  Iliana went to reply, only to have two guards foist Sakura from his grip. Sakura saw him debate kindly interrupting them to do it himself, but his mother’s gaze said it all. No. Not now.