by K R Leikvoll
I have had dreams of a realm where people willingly sacrificed themselves before the grace of me and Lord Nakarius. They gave up wealth and mortal longings for the purity of an eternal afterlife, spent with me in the Void. They would never leave me then… nobody would. Not because they couldn’t, but because their bound souls would never want to. I would have treated them like my flock… my children, just like the unholy Infernal Army. The resistance of the Praetisians is what made me wish for a land of willingness. I suppose it is because I feel deeply misunderstood – loathed and hated by those I wished to save.
I should have done more…
They are gone now, torn from their lives in fear rather than love and understanding. They never knew the depth of my duty to Praetis and their immortal souls. I had to be a martyr, a betrayer, and a conqueror to accomplish what needed to be done.
A pity.
Femora was next on my hunt, and the Queen Alexis had nothing of value. She was distressed to say the least, as the corruption eating the planet had long destroyed her country. All she had left was the small number of Femorans that were permitted to reside in her grandest city. They themselves knew little of what had become of the rest of the world, but Alexis needed to be tended to until the very end. It was the only reason I left them intact and mortal, though I did not want to.
Following that was the desolate jungles of Kaza’mae and the ruins of my once beautiful home Evya. The jungles were empty, unfruitful and lacking any life. The trees had turned to rows of thorn bushes, tended to by Mother Lilith who roamed the land. She was not a vocal husk of a being, but she was still able to reveal that James was not in any part of Kaza’mae, as she guarded the territory well.
Evya was a bit different. Some strange part of me was remorseful that the war passed so quickly. I wished I would have enjoyed my revenge. I also wished I could have killed my lost sister Cyndre in her home. She may have taken Illyswen’s care from me – she may have abandoned A’roha and watched it burn to ash, but I still believed she deserved to be buried in Evya. Instead, she would likely rot in a plague pile with the rest of the dead in Lux.
Going across the sea again was no easy task, but I did it. I spent many nights pacing my ship and worrying fervently about the condition of the Nephilim. The world was growing so inhospitable, it was surely no place for a child. Not that I cared for the condition of the infant for anything more than the idea that it was a mystical being I needed to control. Though it was humorous in a way, for if this being was as all-powerful as Vince perceived, the elements would be no match for her.
I docked in Basul – a place I had never seen before. It was a country of endless sand with small pockets of existence, though I did not fuss with them. The plague had been a horrible thing for every place I traversed. I watched every group I came upon and they were all so ordinary, it made no sense as to how they could have held on despite everything Sendrys’ magic had thrown at them. I was content to allow them to struggle.
Lux was much of the same. Some of the forests endured, but the wildlife didn’t. I sensed Lydris during my passage toward the Capitol. Of course, I could not avoid investigating Maundrell, which is curiously where my only demonic child hid. I did not think James would dare to dwell with enemies – the hatred for the worm was what drove me. He was in Maundrell’s dungeons.
Well, it was where I assumed his dungeons were. All of the Luxians still living stayed within his Hold, or at least the Hold he was inhabiting now that the Capitol was overrun with undead and demons. And Lydris… oh, my poisonous loathed. He was pinned on a table for torturing. I phased into the dungeons, slipping into the shadows easily. Maundrell had some wards up, but they were old in places with little guards. I suspect he had long accepted the fate of our planet.
“You look good strung up like this,” I whispered from the corner of the torture chamber. His head, covered in his forever greasy and matted dark hair, turned sharply in my direction and he started to whine. I shushed him and took my time approaching him, relishing in every step. “I thought about killing you but… this is better, I think. Don’t you?”
He tried to talk and cry through his gag and I merely smiled a genuine smile. I stroked his cheek, even pressing my lips to his cracked skin. It would be dishonest to say I did not miss being with both of my demonic children for the pleasantries of our bonds, but that feeling was not more than my hatred. Not even close. Even the pain Lydris endured and continues to endure by Maundrell’s hand did not faze me remotely.
“No. Maundrell can have his fun.” My lips crept up his neck to his ear, still grinning as he started to bawl. “And if he doesn’t kill you, you are going to wish he did… because what I have planned for you –” I nipped his earlobe. “– not even your worst nightmares can compare.”
I left him there, screaming “no” and various other things to get my attention, but I could spare no time on what he wished to say. It surely would have been a dishonest apology and promises to be the most loyal he could be. I was deaf to him, and giving him the chance to speak was not worth my time. Instead, I focused my attention on the icy reaches of Himmel, for it was the only place left for James to hide.
The frozen wasteland of the north was an odd experience. I could never imagine the land with life. It was more barren than the desert – barren enough for me to consider that it might have been the perfect hiding spot for two people that desperately did not want to be found. Alas… I searched the empty cities and there was nothing. I checked every cave – every single snow-filled crevice. Nix.
Two years of my life I wasted seeking James and the Nephilim. As I stood atop one of the frigid peaks, overlooking the western sea, I came to terms with what my search yielded. They were no more. I knew they existed somewhere, but it was not on Praetis. Somehow, they could have fled to Earth or another place equally as far away. Or alternatively, they were both dead. Lord Nakarius could not give a definitive answer, as he could not see the Nephilim despite her demonic blood. Without much else to do other than wander, I eventually made my way home.
I dreaded walking through the front doors. I missed Vincent, as usual, but I was actively aware it was the bond pulling on my heartstrings. I did not wish to see him. All I sought was a long sleep – one where I could wake up and the work would be finished and I could return to the Void. I would never get that, however.
Holly and the undead Zaarian children were waiting in the entryway for me, standing at attention. When I neared the bizarre draconic woman, I could see her lips trembling, tears barely held back from pouring out of her eyes. She tried to appear serious, but her emotions were tearing her apart inside. I reached out to touch her and she flinched.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her cautiously. I had never had a negative encounter with her, so I knew I could not be the source of her dismay.
“Lord Vince… he –” she stopped. “You’ve been gone for so long, Queen Lazarus.”
I peered through the floor to where both Raven and Vince were in their separate rooms. He appeared to be lying in bed, which convinced me that something had happened to him. Holly was not shaking because she was scared of him. She was afraid of my reaction when I saw his state – thinking perhaps I might react how my Master did and harm her. I could smell her fear in the air.
“What happened?” My voice was alarmed. Did I really worry about him after everything? Of course. Unfortunately, of course. He was right; I did not hate him – I hated myself.
“He is ill.” Her golden irises fluctuated and her hand gripped mine. I wanted to ask if she meant physically or mentally, but I already knew the answer. I remained silent in response, composing myself. I nodded at her and waved to excuse them. I was filled with dread – it was a heart-rending sensation strong enough to make me freeze. However, I was far more than versed in dealing with awful emotions. I kept a firm grip on the handrail and made my way to our tower.
Vince’s door was slightly ajar and it was eerily silent, but I resisted the urge to see him first an
d went to my room to remove my armor. It was empty obviously, as Varnoc and the worm were gone. I missed Varnoc, truly. His company made me feel less alone. It was inevitable, though, as I was bound to be alone for an eternal epoch. I sat on my dark divan and thought I might weep, but I held it in. I knew at that moment that I reached the point where everything would only continue to worsen until I eventually died and gave up my body to Lord Nakarius. I did not fear it necessarily; I merely felt the vast emptiness unto myself that I wished to dispense on others.
It was justice. It was justice.
I whisper it to myself even now so that I am always reminded.
I took a long, much-needed bath. I was so dirty I was nearly unrecognizable, turning the clean water to the shade of mud and grime within a few minutes. The heat was almost enough to make me experience something other than total numbness. It was like I died in Himmel and returned as a ghost. All of that wrath and fury was replaced with anxiety and worry, only to transform into nothing at all. The fear I had for Vince was smothered by a cloud of dense emptiness. I would have to kill him, and I never knew when it would come.
“I missed you,” Raven’s voice murmured from my doorway. It was open and shut, but he remained a decent distance away. I am sure he was trying to read my nearly non-existent emotions. My focus remained on my hands underneath the surface of the water. I rested my head against the edge of my basin, wishing for nothing more than to drift into sleep. His thumb brushed my cheek and I jumped, startled as I hadn’t noticed him walk over. He shushed me and smoothed my hair behind my ears. Cautiously, he leaned over to kiss me. It was filled with his equally lonely emotions. The world had grown so small.
I was helped from the bath and we were in each other’s arms on my bed. It was unusual, as we held one another for quite some time before anything happened. It defied our nature as demons, but neither of us could help our depression. We had long lost our Master. We had lost our brother… and now, we had lost the Nephilim, too. Our lives would be different in the Void. Though Raven was more than likely to have a privileged position somewhere in Dys, I could not see him once I entered my own domain to guard Lord Baelarius.
I have never said it before, but… I love him, I do. He was the only person I could rely on my entire life – the only one that had tried to protect me and what we stood for. His loyalty to Naazvaba was forever unmatched. Not many could look utter destruction in the eye and understand its place in infinity. I trusted him with my life and my sold-soul.
We were intimate after a time; it was a good excuse to pretend our Master and problems no longer existed. We participated in sacrificing for each other, and it was intoxicating after a couple of years apart. Sometimes I felt it was a shame that Vince was my Master and not Raven, as I would have been satisfied tenfold if we had a Sacramental bond. It did not matter in the end, though. He left me more than pleased and content.
“We’ll find her,” he murmured in my ear. “She will be converted and serve, or she will be destroyed.” He moved his fingers along my bare skin, tracing invisible lines. “And we will sacrifice this world to Azotl… you did everything that was asked of you, Lazarus.”
“Besides killing Vince,” I dared to whisper, rolling onto my side to face him. “What has happened since I left?” His hands continued down my arm and he brought it to his lips to kiss my wrist.
“He is unwell. Sometimes it’s as if he has fully lost himself. All over worry, and it’s not for anything more than his soul and vanity. He knows the end is coming and that it’s too late to get out, but he still thinks there is a chance.”
“You don’t think he knows where they went?”
“I know he doesn’t know where they went. I’m not sure whether I am disgusted watching him weep over it, or if it is humorous to watch him fall from his peak atop the world.”
“He has lost his power.” I could tell by how little his aura seeped into the air surrounding us. It had dimmed to the tiny area of his bedroom across the sitting room.
“He’s very ill, too. I expect he will die on his own in time, though I did not believe he would make it through burying Eve. The bastard seemed to think he could use magic transferring rituals without having to pay the price. I hope he enjoys the fire now, for Treachery is quite cold.” I shivered at the thought. Quite cold, indeed.
“All in all, he was successful, and we cannot deny that,” I replied, resting my head against Raven’s heartless chest. “He created the Nephilim… he was just deemed unworthy of its power by fate.”
“Do you think we are worthy?” Raven asked, genuinely curious. For if Vince was not worthy, who was?
“I believe Naazvaba has the foresight to determine what will need to be done. The Nephilim will not hide forever. She will come to us. I know she will.”
“How?”
“It is inevitable. The light is gone… all she has left is darkness. Whether she meets us here or a hundred planets from now, she will find us.”
“I’ve never heard you speak of something so certain beyond the end of the world. Has Naazvaba told you this?”
“No.” I scowled and stood up to pour myself a glass of wine. “If she is anything like Vince – or Eve for that matter – she will want to save this miserable, dead shell of a planet. And if it is not here, it will be another less deserving realm.”
“In any case, we have time. We can watch the world end together. I can’t think of a higher honor, my Queen.” When I turned to look at him, his eyes were gleaming and his face was in love. Despite how horrible we both felt, it was so freeing to be able to feel what we wanted without fear of repercussions. I was the one in charge now.
When I finally felt ready, I made the treacherous crossing to Vince’s room.
The first thing I heard was the frantic scratching of a quill. I took a deep breath before I had the willpower to gently push the door open, causing it to creak. Though I made my entrance obvious, Vince did not bother to look up from his spot.
He was sitting on his knees on his pillows, hovering over a scroll that was long enough to run off his bed. It was already full of scribbles that turned out to be numerals upon closer inspection. I could not make sense of it, and apparently, neither could he, for he stopped to chew on his quill, scanning over the same spot repeatedly.
The cradle was still in his room and it was one of the only pieces of furniture not covered in scrolls and journals. It was as if after two years, he still expected James to walk through the front doors and return the Nephilim to him. Not that the baby would fit in the cradle anymore, as it was surely turning into a child more and more every day.
“Oh, you’re home,” Vince muttered, finally making brief eye contact before looking back at his messy writing. The way he moved was like a frantic animal. I suppose it was not comfortable to be sitting next to your assassin. I reached over and tugged the scrolls from under him, careful not to rip it as he pathetically tried to hang on. Once it was finally away from him, stowed beside the bed on the other side, I grabbed onto his arm and almost effortlessly pulled him into my grasp.
He was lighter as if he hadn’t been taking care of himself. His hair was tangled and untamed. There were wine stains all over the dirty robes he hadn’t changed from for a time. His musk was that of someone that had forgotten to bathe. The revealed parts of his skin were bruised in spots. He was rigid against me like I might pull out a knife and finish him off if he dared relax. I found myself smiling; I preferred him in this subordinate state.
“What have you been doing in my absence, darling?” I asked him, embracing him tighter and resting my head against his. He was transfixed on the blanket, consumed with rage. I shook him slightly until he peered up at me. His jaw was clenched tightly, marking the sides of his face with hard lines. I continued with, “What new project have you moved along to?”
“None of your business,” he snapped in a mutter and closed his eyes. Probably to avoid looking at me.
“Oh, have I done something to upset you, beloved?”
Silence.
“Come now. You always knew you were going to fail. It’s not my fault you don’t understand prophecies.”
More solemn silence.
“Vincent… darling, tell me how Eve’s death destroyed you inside. I missed it.”
He shifted uncomfortably but held his tongue.
“Maybe I’ll unearth her and add her bones to my collection of jewelry. Your heir could join her afterward if you wanted.”
I hit the correct sore spot. He reacted quickly despite his state, reaching for my throat to throttle me. I allowed him, biting my lip to suppress a laugh I so wanted to release. He pushed, but it was nowhere near enough force to cause me any hint of distress. The intense hatred and pain written on his face brought me joy and a bit of envy. Of course, it was wonderful to finally have the power over him I sought, but I also found myself wondering once more what he found to be so special about the woman he had imprisoned and impregnated.
“You will never lay your disgusting hands on her, Lazarus,” he declared, more serious than I had ever seen him. “I don’t care for the consequences – you will pay with your life if you harm her.” I could not hold back the chuckles, breaking and cracking up with his hands still tightly wrapped around my throat.
“You are the only one that cares for their mortal life, beloved. Your threats mean nothing to me.” I sat up forcefully, grabbing ahold of him and prying his grasp from my neck. I was in awe at his weakness, as it was as easy as pushing around an ordinary man. I climbed on top of him after pinning his arms to his sides. He was finally mine. All mine.
“Maybe once you enter Treachery, you will finally realize the grace I have given you. This sickness –” I scoffed, “– you deserve so much worse.”
