Talia

by Tamryn Tamer

  Chapter 5

  Theia Ardelucem

  Seraphim society seemed pleasant on the surface but a country fighting a perpetual war didn’t have the luxury of actually being pleasant. From the moment a Seraph was born they were being trained to fight the Fallen. They were ripped from their parents’ arms and thrown into the military academy known as the nest.

  This was to prevent a Seraph from experiencing a life they hadn’t earned. Whether their parents held the rank of zero or were members of the Choir, they were nothing. Even the weakest of children in Seraphim society needed to earn the rank of zero.

  Theia was no exception. She may call herself a pacifist but as a child, she beat her opponents until they couldn’t stand just like any other Seraph child. She learned to fight with swords, knives, bows, spears, and every weapon that may come into play no matter how obscure. And just like every other Seraph to graduate from the nest, she executed a Fallen prisoner of war.

  That was the moment she realized she despised the idea of killing. Despite that, the more time she spent with her master the more she longed to join him in battle. She took pleasure in cooking for him, cleaning for him, mending his clothes, and making love to him. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to protect him on the battlefield as well.

  Although it wasn’t just for him. She needed to prove to herself that she could stand with the other familiars in the house. Even little Ariel, the gentlest person Theia ever met, led an army to save Jinx. Theia needed to prove to herself that she was worthy of being her master’s familiar.

  “Get out of my way,” Rizar snarled as Theia intercepted him. He lunged at her with his enormous sword which Theia deflected with her tower shield. She rapidly moved to counter with a lunge of her halberd but Rizar pivoted his gangly body avoiding the blow. “Foolish Seraph.”

  Theia flew upward to avoid his horizontal slash and rapidly adjusted to dive for his legs. She’d practiced dive-bomb maneuvers for as long as she’d been able to fly. Gaining an altitude advantage over her opponent and continually abusing it was beaten into her.

  “Stupid,” Rizar jumped easily avoiding her strike before retaliating with a powerful cleave. “You Seraphim all fight the same.”

  “I am not just a Seraph,” Theia said as she adjusted her shield to narrowly deflect his attack. As his feet landed, she swung her halberd only to catch his sword as he twisted it to parry her attack. “I am my master’s familiar.”

  “Pathetic,” Rizar growled as Theia took off. She flew around while attempting to maintain close proximity to him. “A human’s pet.”

  Theia might not have joined her master in battle but she still learned from him. Her master and Terra would constantly talk about strategies to defeat different types of monsters. While Jinx and the other familiars zoned out during those discussions, she listened with great interest. She loved to listen to anything her master talked about.

  He liked to talk about watching his enemies and doing the opposite of what they wanted. If an enemy wanted him close he moved far away and if an enemy wanted him far away, he moved in close. It was obvious from Rizar’s lengthy features and needlessly long sword he preferred to keep his enemies far away.

  “You annoying little mosquito,” Rizar said as he twisted and launched himself backward to create some distance. Theia wasn’t going to allow it, she rushed after him. “Gotcha.”

  Theia felt a sharp pain throughout her body as an enormous foot smashed into her from below. She barely managed to dodge the follow up as the blade came crashing down nearly taking one of her wings. The urge to back away began to overwhelm her, it wasn’t the first time.

  The Seraphim would question the children weekly in order to better understand their personalities and correct their flaws. So, when a Seraph discussed their fears, they could be sure they’d be forced to face them.

  Theia couldn’t even remember what she was afraid of but she’d never forgotten the heat growing behind her back ready to burn off her wings if she took even a single step away from them. Theia never conquered her fear, but a greater one had been instilled, the fear of burning to death if she gave in.

  “Bitch!” Rizar yelled as Theia lashed out with her halberd slicing into his shin before continuing to stay on top of him. She couldn’t let up, even for a second. She couldn’t help but shake the feeling that if Rizar acquired his preferred distance she would lose.

  “Is a little Seraph giving you trouble?” Theia mocked. “I thought you were a powerful demon. If you’re only this strong I imagine my master will make short work of yours.”

  “You insolent little worm,” Rizar snapped as he tried to dash away again. She easily dodged his leg and the follow-up elbow now that she knew to expect them. She also managed to land a blow from her halberd against his thigh. “Whore!”

  “Only my master can call me that,” Theia taunted. “Are you getting flustered that this insolent little worm is giving you so much trouble?”

  Irritating her enemies so they made mistakes. That was another technique she learned living with her master, although she learned it from Mirage. The devious shapeshifter would regularly find ways to irritate Terra to cause her to snap. When Theia asked her about it, Mirage explained it was easier to beat a destabilized opponent and the quickest way to destabilize them was to make them angry.

  “When I catch you, I’m going to slice off your little wings!” Rizar barked. “We’ll see how funny you are then!”

  “We can discuss that if you catch me,” Theia ridiculed. “I expect that’ll be sometime next year.”

  Rizar roared as he slashed his blade wildly while trying to establish some distance. He was furious and his movements showed it. They weren’t those of a trained warrior but a wild animal lashing out at whoever was nearby.

  Theia continued to fly around the giant demon while slashing with her halberd whenever she got the chance. Before long the demon was covered in small cuts but Theia continued to fail at dealing a deep wound. Then she noticed the regeneration.

  “Stupid mortal,” Rizar roared. “Do you actually believe you’re getting somewhere? You’ll need to slash me a million times before I so much as feel pain.”

  “Maybe I just need to try harder,” Theia joked but she knew he was right. The first wounds she’d managed to land were already healed and the others were slowly closing. She was also starting to get tired. Maintaining her light barrier while flying at high speeds was increasing her rate of exhaustion.

  Theia was finding her training to be lacking as inklings of doubt started to bubble up inside of her. She was trained in a classroom with other Seraphim but the only life she’d taken was that of a defenseless Fallen. She wasn’t really a warrior.

  “Finally,” Rizar laughed as Theia became distracted for a moment too long. He knocked her out of the sky with a fierce headbutt and immediately followed up with an elbow on her way down. Pain shot through her as she landed on the ground shattering one of her wings. “Die!”

  “No,” Theia said rolling to the side to avoid his downward slice. She climbed to her knees just in time to block another crushing blow with her shield. The force of the blade against her shield pounded her knees into the ground like nails. Even if she could avoid being sliced in half, she couldn’t avoid the strength with which Rizar swung his blade. “I promised not to die.”

  Jericho told her to run if she was in trouble. She was supposed to run. Her master could take pain, suffering, and death as long as he was on the receiving end. The only thing he couldn’t take was his familiars suffering. The only way for Dalmeth and his minions to defeat Jericho was for one of his familiars to fall. Theia knew that.

  As the demon tried to crush her beneath the weight of her own shield Theia knew she needed to run away. Except she couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry master,” Theia said to herself. A Seraph served. A Seraph obeyed. A Seraph that rebelled wasn’t a Seraph. But she wasn’t a Seraph anymore. She was Theia Ardelucem, familiar of Jericho Voidcaller, the most powerful
mage in the world. “I’m not going to run!”

  The Seraphim trained them from childhood to die. They pushed them to fight until they could no longer stand and then the last Seraph to stand was beaten until they passed out. They trained them that way so when faced with death, a Seraph would have the resolve to die if need be.

  Theia didn’t have that kind of resolve. Her master would never forgive her if she died so she wasn’t allowed to die. If she was going to stay and fight, she had to have a different type of resolve. She needed the resolve win by any means necessary.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Theia said dropping her shield as she rolled out of the way of his impending strike. She gripped her halberd with both hands and faced off against her foe, who quickly dashed backward. She’d given him the one thing she wasn’t allowed to give him, range. But it didn’t matter, Theia was going to win because she had to win. If there was one truth in the universe, it was that she couldn’t die. “I’m going to kill you.”

  Rizar’s mouth was moving but the sound couldn’t reach her. The world was empty except for the powerful enemy standing across from her taking an oddly low stance. She could no longer fly and he was faster and stronger with an unmatchable range. Not only that but his stance suggested the incoming attack was going to be a thrust utilizing all three.

  She was right. Rizar dashed and lunged simultaneously, increasing the speed at which his sword came toward her. She rushed toward the tip of the blade unwavering in her resolve as she used her broken wing as a shield to deflect the blade. She heard her barrier cracking as the lengthy blade scraped across it. Then she felt the tear as the blade broke through her barrier and began cutting through her wing, but it was enough.

  “Fuck,” Rizar managed to say as he realized his high-speed attack prevented him from stopping. Another trick that wasn’t taught to her by the Seraphim, but by Jinx. She loved telling Theia how funny it was when an assassin blinked toward her only to lose their head to Jinx’s fist as she met them halfway. The counter.

  “Die!” Theia said as her wing tore off. She stepped forward and launched herself upward with her halberd while encasing it in a barrier of light. With one powerful thrust, the halberd pierced Rizar’s heart and with a quick pull it ripped out chunks of it as Rizar tumbled to the ground completely devoid of life.

  Theia walked up to Rizar’s head using her halberd to support her along the way. She lifted her halberd and let out a loud scream before bringing it down across Rizar’s neck over and over again until his head finally detached from his shoulders.

  “Your mistake was treating me like a Seraph,” Theia said kicking the decapitated head. “I am Theia Ardelucem.”

  Chapter 6

  Sablene Evara

  For Sable it wasn’t a question of whether she could defeat her enemy but whether she could stop herself afterward. Engaging with the darkness wasn’t only easy for her, it was an addiction.

  The life of an immortal was eternal suffering. Even meeting Jericho was simply another ticking clock until more pain. That was the secret to making life painful, love. If you loved nothing then nothing could hurt you. It was the fact Sable loved everything so much that made life so unbearable for her.

  It’s also what made the darkness so addicting. When your life was filled with painful memories of losing everybody you’ve ever loved, who wouldn’t want to get lost in oblivion? For many Nyxians engaging with the darkness was the only way to escape their pain.

  That’s why every time she engaged the darkness it came with a risk. Invasive thoughts and memories could work their ways into her mind as she connected to the darkness. It was possible she’d be inundated with so many painful memories that she would decide to get lost in oblivion. And that frightened her because she loved her master and her family.

  “Maznear is it?” Sable said conceitedly as she approached the spiked monstrosity standing in front of her. She didn’t have any issues with demons. She couldn’t judge creatures who wanted to eradicate humanity since she intended to do the same along with all other life. But preferred to attempt diplomacy first, “I will give you an opportunity to walk away from this. Find a nice little grove somewhere and live out your life peacefully. I suggest you take that opportunity.”

  “A Nyxian,” Maznear laughed. “Weren’t your kind defeated by the Seraphim? Maybe I should give you an opportunity to surrender?”

  “Maznear, the worst tragedy is the one that can be avoided,” Sable said coldly. “I’ve experienced thousands or tragedies so I know this to be true. The worst ones are always the tragedies that could have been avoided. I am begging you, please walk away from this impending tragedy.”

  “Such arrogance,” Maznear chuckled. “Do you think I’m afraid of a dark little shadow witch? You must know that demons are immune to your pathetic magic.”

  “I understand that you think you are,” Sable sighed. “You’ve faced beings who scraped the shallows of oblivion and found them wanting. In me, you don’t face the ocean’s shores but the deepest depths. You face the all-consuming darkness. A darkness so deep that not even echoes of your existence will remain if it touches you.”

  “And now I’m curious to see this darkness,” the enormous spiked monstrosity smiled. It wasn’t a bad smile, maybe a little too toothy, but nice. It was a shame Sable was going to erase it from existence. “It’s a shame I need to kill you. You’re an amusing little vermin.”

  “So be it,” Sable said instantly connecting with the heart of the void. She let out a soft moan, “Fuck, that feels so good.”

  Sable saw Maznear’s arm come crashing down on her right before she enveloped herself in a dark sphere. She smiled as the darkness embraced her. It reminded her of the relaxing room the Seraphim set up for her. Nothing to bother her, nothing to love, nothing to make her feel pain. Just books and silence. Such a reprieve from the world.

  “Did that hurt?” Sable asked as she dropped the sphere.

  “What kind of dark magic is that?” Maznear growled while holding his arm. An enormous spherical chunk had been taken out of it. The flesh was healing but it’d take quite a bit for a piece that large to grow back. “I don’t understand.”

  “What?” Sable said while getting lost in the relaxing feeling of nothingness. She almost forgot she was fighting somebody. How she longed for nothingness. All she needed to do was step into the void and there’d be no more pain, no more suffering, no more loss. It would be so easy. “Right. I need to kill you.”

  “Killing me won’t be that easy,” Maznear said as his wound finished healing. “But killing you only takes one lucky swat.”

  “Luck,” Sable laughed while getting lost in the euphoric feeling that came with oblivion. “How are you going to hurt me? Do you happen to know light magic?”

  “Arrogant little witch,” Maznear growled as he rushed toward Sable again. This time she didn’t bother creating an orb to protect herself. Instead, she created a net in front of herself to watch Maznear’s fist get sliced into pieces as it passed through. “Fuck!”

  “You should have walked away,” Sable said as Maznear’s fist sluggishly healed up. Sable could tell he was confused. Why wouldn’t he be? He’d likely faced off against dark magic users whose darkness was shallow. Creatures like the Fallen who could still be cut and pierced as long as you moved fast enough. “I warned you.”

  “I would never walk away from my master,” Maznear said angrily. “I’m going to enjoy killing you. You smug little rodent.”

  “I’ll take no pleasure in killing you,” Sable said while smiling ear to ear. “Sorry, I realized it may seem like I’m enjoying it. It’s not you, it’s just the darkness. It feels so fucking good.”

  Sable felt sorry for Maznear as he attempted to launch a series of attacks at her. She imagined it was the first time his overwhelming might didn’t really matter. Punching her was like punching thin air and pulling back a stump. It must have been confusing for a creature that relied on devastating strength for everything in its
life.

  It was unfair to him. Any other opponent and his power would have been awe-inspiring. Even her master would have been impressed with his might. The earth trembled beneath his feet and his punches caused the ground to split open. But he was up against the worst possible opponent for him.

  “You’re not a Nyxian,” Maznear growled as he waited for the bloody stump where his arm used to be to heal. “What are you?”

  “Oh,” Sable laughed as her connection with the darkness intensified sending shivers to her core. “I should have been more specific. I am Sablene Evara, Commander of the Eastern Legion.”

  “A Nyxian commander,” Maznear snarled while stepping backward. Sable laughed as she walked forward to chase him. “No wonder.”

  Maznear reached toward his shoulders and pulled out two of his giant spikes. Sable wondered what his plan was since the spikes would be eradicated just as easily as his fists. She was much more concerned about how good the darkness was feeling as her connection intensified than her opponent.

  She was already using enough power, more than enough even, but it’d been so long she wanted a little bit more. She knew she shouldn’t, it was a bad thought. But eventually her craving won out and she amplified the connection just a tiny bit more. She giggled as her euphoria increased.

  “That’s so fucking good,” Sable laughed while walking toward a terrified Maznear. He slammed one of his spikes into the ground and hundreds began popping up around her. Each spike was eaten by her growing aura long before it reached her. “You have no idea how good this feels.”

  It didn’t always feel so good. She started much like her master, eyes burning and head throbbing each time she connected with the dark heart inside of herself. Gradually, it became easier and easier until holding the connection was like breathing.

  Everybody assumed Nyxian’s naturally had red-eyes. In reality, they were the result of establishing a true connection with the darkness. Not simply watching your dark heart bubble up and spread like spilled wine but making it a part of your entire being.