by Thomas Green
What followed was a painting of Lucielle standing on a white dragon’s corpse, other dragons lying dead on the surrounding ground. Next was the celebration in her village, where the people awarded her white armor made of the dead dragon’s skin and polar bear furs.
An image later, she travelled the lands around today’s Nordic countries by the fjords. She killed a dozen more dragons, freeing other villages.
Yet when she returned home, she saw an empty village, burnt to the ground. The next major image was her standing alone in her home, her family just torched bones scattered on the ground.
And so, Lucielle traveled. She searched the world for the dragon who destroyed her home, and in the process, she killed every dragon she met, turning them to dust so nothing remained.
The narration was interrupted by another carving, of a massive, red dragon with horns that resembled a crown, descending on Lucielle.
The next image was that of a massive fire, Lucielle hiding an egg-shaped shell she had to conjure to save herself, the red dragon flying away.
The fire burned for days, but Lucielle sustained herself with magic. When she walked out of the shell, desert surrounded her. And she headed west, where the dragon flew. When she reached the shore, she found a cavern, where she created a lifeless clone of herself, dressed the clone in the white armor, and buried that in a crystal coffin.
After concealing herself by putting on simple rags that everyone else wore, she created a ship, and sailed west, eventually reaching today’s South America. Here, the dragon villages and cities were more numerous. But she didn’t fight them. She followed the roads, heading north through today’s Mexico, until she found a city made of gold.
There, atop a giant pyramid rested the red dragon. Still hiding, Lucielle reached out with a spell, and pulled toward herself the biggest meteor she could find near Earth. Tired from the spell, Lucielle walked up the pyramid’s stairs, turning to dust everyone who crossed her path, until she faced the dragon king once more.
The next painting was of the red dragon towering above Lucielle, she drenched in blood, both hers, and his. As the dragon took a deep breath, she cast her last spell, her first curse.
The following carving was that of the dragon king incinerating Lucielle while a meteor already filled the sky. In the next image showed the impact of the meteor, the dragon king and his entire city disappearing.
This part of her story finished with a collage of dragons, but also Lucielle’s people, all turning into dust. A single sentence was carved among a dozen paintings. ‘Could I have known that we were all made from him?’
And the last picture of this period was her spirit retreating into the body in the crystal coffin, a body that she made from pure magic, and it thus didn’t contain even a drop of the dragon king’s blood.
In her wrath, she put a curse on him that upon his death, all his offspring would perish with him. And through that curse, she wiped out her entire race.
From the other members of my team, only Joseph walked with me to read the whole story. And our eyes rested on the display that marked the end of this section, inside which stood Lucielle’s armor from white dragon hide and furs, untouched by time.
I checked the others, who all grabbed what they came for. Zhang went to the Chinese section to take the artifacts of his ancestors, Katherine to the European section to grab what she could from the heritage of the ancient Irish kings, and Amaranta combed through the ancient Christianity section to find the Spear of Destiny.
Only Trisha wasn’t looting, standing by the gate in the large-succubus form, arms crossed over her chest, wearing an angry glare.
I spent five minutes reading the story, so I had about two minutes left before the defenses came online. I ran to the ancient Christianity section, brushed past Amaranta, opened the display case with a simple rosary and a cross pendant, and pocketed those.
One minute left. I bolted to the section of the Pact, and there, from a pedestal, I grabbed the amulet with a large ruby.
The walls hummed with magic, defenses coming online. I threw myself against the edge of reality and teleported behind Amaranta. From her belt, I swiped the teleportation matrix.
She didn’t even notice what happened before I teleported once more, straight behind Katherine. As she was stuffing a golden crown into her bag, I grabbed her by the waist, and activated the teleportation matrix.
Amaranta 3
AMARANTA picked the Spear of Destiny from a display. The power inside hummed through her fingers. Without a shade of doubt, this was the real thing.
Her angelic blessing resonated with the artifact. She regained her powers the moment Lucas destroyed the gate, but she understood it as a warning from Baraquiel.
Understandable, given she failed at every step. But it would be pointless to despair over that, or over the unimaginable difference in power between her and Lucifer, the man she was supposed to overcome. Well, the word man didn’t quite fit the army of over sixteen million souls that aggregated within him. In retrospect, Baraquiel giving her Lucas as her goal was an elegant way of making her piss off and stop bothering him.
Yet overthinking that was also pointless. She had to achieve at least something and bringing the Spear of Destiny back to the Church would be that something.
Magic buzzed through the air, and the gate that Lucas had disintegrated reformed. Amaranta stared at the gate, seeing Trisha leaning against the wall next to it. Zhang was just dressing in an ancient Chinese armor, Joseph was rummaging through artifacts from the Aztec empire and Lucas and Katherine were… nowhere to be seen. She couldn’t feel their presence at all.
And the pieces finally clicked together inside her mind.
Her purpose on this heist was to be the scapegoat. And so were Zhang and Joseph.
The reason there never was anything for her to do, no way to contribute, was because Lucas made the entire heist plan without counting on anyone other than himself. Who would assign a critical role to a scapegoat?
To navigate the Void was something he could surely do, and he undoubtedly had a seer among his souls to get him past any puzzle, or a descendant of a king to get through the Trial of Kings himself. The reason he hid his horns was to conceal the fact that there wasn’t any obstacle which he couldn’t overcome through sheer power.
Well, any obstacle aside from one. He couldn’t deal with Lucielle knowing he robbed her because she would hunt him down and kill him… again. And so, he arranged cooperation with the Church to make the heist look like a Church operation, giving Lucielle someone to pursue, to hunt down.
And there existed no better scapegoat to implicate the Church than an angel.
How did she fall for this? She had the angelic sense for truth, and she knew he was a fallen angel, so she was suspicious of him from the start. She stared at the reformed gate.
About seven minutes have passed, and the defenses were already up. “We have under ten minutes…” that was what Lucas said, and it was a hundred percent true statement, so her angelic sense told her that. Just like, “You have a critical role to play in the heist,” since being the scapegoat was a critical role.
Right, Lucas had a daughter with an angelic blessing, so he had plenty of space to learn how to play around the angelic truth sense. Amaranta slapped her face with her palm. She was so damn innocent and clueless. Worse, she was completely sunken into her own problems that no matter where she looked, she couldn’t see anything other than reflections of herself.
She realized that now, about a day too late.
Amaranta looked at Trisha. “You stayed here even though you knew?”
“Goddess,” Trisha shouted, “Save me from these fools. Yes, of course I knew, but what am I supposed to do? I’m immortal and bound to him for an eternity, so why wouldn’t he fatten the scapegoat with a big bad succubus?”
“The what?” Zhang shouted from the other side of the hall.
Joseph also stopped looting, glancing at them before paling.
Tr
isha rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “Goddess, be merciful.”
“Everyone,” Amaranta shouted, ending the discussion. “Prepare for combat. There’s no reason to let Lucielle capture us without a fight.”
“Did you read the story?” Joseph shouted, pointing at the carving of Lucielle summoning the meteor. “She wiped out two entire races and caused the ice age. You want to fight her?”
“Yes.” Amaranta glanced around, looking for armor. The late medieval section looked good, so she turned into lightning, and bolted there. Quickly, she slid into one, tightening the straps around herself.
Once the steel wreathed her, she looked around for a helmet since the one that came with the armor was too small.
A woman in a white, crisp business outfit stood in front of the painting of Lucielle’s people turning to dust. Her snow-white hair fell all the way to her waist, cross-shaped silver earrings glinting by the sides of her head. The outfit comprised of a jacket, below the knees skirt, and pumps, all as white as her hair. “Out of all the people who could come rob me,” Lucielle said without turning around, voice sharp, but intonation melodic, “I didn’t expect an angel.”
False. “Life’s full of surprises,” Amaranta replied and readied her spear, confirming her companions also prepared for battle. Zhang held the emperor’s glaive he had come for; Joseph was hiding behind a statue of Lucielle from when she was the queen of Bohemian lands; and Trisha was already silently incanting a spell, the runes on her robe glowing. “So, how about you return us back to earth?” Amaranta asked. “Fighting here will wreck the place.”
Slowly, Lucielle turned, her black lips smirking, emerald eyes glowing with inner light. “Nice try. Where’s Azrael? There’s no way this happened without his approval.”
False. Did this woman ever speak truth? Amaranta shrugged. “By now, somewhere on Earth.”
Lucielle clicked her tongue. “Stealing, lying, no wonder you lot had to cheat your way through the Gate of the Holy.” She glanced at Trisha. “Bad luck, isn’t it? After being stuck here for over six hundred years, you are getting imprisoned a few gates later.”
“Hey, hey, hey, look,” Trisha shouted, looking at Amaranta, but pointing at Lucielle. “That fossil can speak!”
Lucielle drew a sharp breath. She pointed her hand at Trisha, saying, “Putro.” A blast of magical energy flew at Trisha.
Violet light swirled around the succubus, consumed her, and in a burst of a violet mist, she appeared next to Zhang. Lucielle’s spell blasted the wall, missing.
“You want to play?” Lucielle spread her arms, “Umbra eo.” Her entire form turned into shadow, which swirled through the air toward the armor primordial section. The shadow filled the insides and reformed into Lucielle.
The armor of dragon hide and furs still fit her perfectly. Lucielle drew a hood over her head, stretched out her hand, and a wooden staff with three nails appeared in the air, ready for her to grab it. “All right,” she said, smirking, “I will play with you.”
Amaranta invoked the angelic blessing, lightning wings bursting from her back. She felt the power stronger than ever. Baraquiel approved. Gripping the Spear of Destiny, she turned to lightning, bolted to Lucielle, reformed in front of her, and stabbed.
“Dis,” Lucielle whispered, hand outstretched before her. A burst of wind slammed into Amaranta, stopping her strike, throwing her across the hall with the force of a speeding truck.
Before hitting the wall, Amaranta turned into lightning, and bolted to Lucielle’s side.
“Scutum,” Lucielle said and power swirled around her. The energy swatted away Amaranta’s spear, and then pushed away Amaranta herself, as if the swirling power was a same-pole magnet to Amaranta’s weapon and armor.
Trisha shouted something in Infernal, and black-red flames whirled through the dome, forming a dozen comets.
“Auris,” Lucielle shouted and a freezing wind blew through the hall, scattering the items and displays, snuffing out Trisha’s flame. Lucielle aimed her palm at Trisha. “Traho.” Trisha flew into the air, waist-first, straight toward Lucielle.
Zhang’s violet mist whirled around Trisha and teleported her to the side, saving her again.
Lucielle clicked her tongue, and the freezing wind filled with snow and sleet, obscuring vision, chilling the air further.
Amaranta turned herself into lightning, and bolted out of her armor, taking only the spear with her. She fueled all the strength she could into herself, halo finally appearing above her head, rematerialized where she remembered Lucielle stood, and stabbed. She hit only air. Her teeth started clattering, feeling her face stiffen, entire body instantly starting to shiver.
Amaranta pushed her strengthening to the limit, but the air temperature kept dropping, now approaching minus ninety degrees Fahrenheit.
Zhang’s scream cleaved the blizzard, but only howling wind followed. Amaranta turned into lightning once more, flowing through the hall, looking for Lucielle. She glimpsed Joseph lying unconscious behind the statue, freezing.
Heartbeat speeding up, Amaranta bolted to where the blizzard felt the coldest. A massive body flew past her. Trisha. The succubus hit a wall with her back, not even managing to scream before falling to the floor, unconscious.
Amaranta flew in the direction from which Trisha came.
She noticed Lucielle’s frame inside the blizzard, formed by the frame’s side, and stabbed. Her spear hit only air. She felt a presence behind her. Amaranta whirled, swinging wide with the spear.
Lucielle stood right behind Amaranta, expression cold. “Dis.” Before Amaranta finished the swing, a blast of unspeakable force hit Amaranta, throwing her at the wall.
She tried to turn into lightning, but the spell failed, countered by Lucielle. Amaranta slammed into the wall, and instantly lost consciousness.
Lucas 17
Holding Katherine in my arms, I landed in the dungeons of St. John’s Cathedral. The trip back here from the vault took about ten seconds, five which took the teleportation matrix to get us out of Lucielle’s maze, two seconds was me teleporting us to the gate to Earth, and then the rest was me opening the gate to return to reality.
Tiredness hit me like a truck. The moment we left the Void, the power the place granted me faded, and I was back to being Lucas, the human, except with all the damage my form and spirit took during the heist.
I more dropped Katherine than placing her back onto the floor. She kept her balance though, helping me stand. A slow clap sounded from the room’s corner.
Vision blurry from exhaustion, I recognized Azrael leaning against the wall.
“You return victorious,” he said calmly. “Though in smaller number than with which you left.”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “You’re about to have an angel to buy out of Lucielle’s prison.”
“That does not surprise me,” Azrael said, glancing at Katherine “Though it does surprise me that you seem perfectly okay with that, paladin.”
Katherine raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t received my resignation?”
“Oh…” Azrael’s smile faded from his face. “I thought that was a prank.”
“I’m dead serious,” Katherine said. “Are you going to excommunicate Amaranta for the St. John’s incident?”
He shook his head. “You know as well as I do that I cannot excommunicate an angel.”
“Then I’m done.” Katherine straightened the backpack full of loot from Lucielle’s vault on her back. “And I’m taking this as my retirement package.”
Azrael sighed. “I’m afraid I cannot accept your resignation.”
“I don’t care.” She glanced at me. “I’m not spending another second here, so see you later.” Katherine raised her chin and headed to the door. Without another word, she walked out of the room, leaving me alone with Azrael.
“She will calm down, in time,” I said, having to hold myself by the wall not to collapse.
“In a long time, though.” Azrael stepped to me and waved his hand. T
he portal swirling behind me closed and the painting that covered it reformed, everything looking brand new. “Have you brought what we arranged?”
I reached into my pocket to produce the cross amulet and the rosary. “Here,” I said and stretched out my hand.
He took the amulet. “I have actually missed this.” Bowing slightly, he put the amulet around his neck. The air around him changed as he did, becoming more intense, as if his presence grew. “And the rosary is yours.” He looked me in the eyes, smiling faintly. “You used to wear it tied around your left wrist. That is the favor I am going to ask you. I want you to wear that rosary as you once used to, all the time that you can.”
“If you’re trying to return me to the correct path, it’s going to take a lot more than this.” While I said that, I pulled up my coat’s and shirt’s sleeves, and tied the rosary around my wrist. It felt right. As if a piece of me was missing all this time and I never knew, only realizing once the piece was back in its place.
“Why would you say that?”
“I met Lucifer there, the angel, or well, the projection of him that Lucielle made as her guardian. When he saw who I had become, he literally killed himself to not have to honor the deal we made a few minutes beforehand.” I leaned against the wall, feeling hollow. “Just, what did he see in me that made him do that?”
Azrael shrugged. “Old Lucifer was a man of too sharp principles, a man of no compromises. He would not understand today’s world.”
“That doesn’t make it any better.”
“That’s up to you.” Azrael smiled, and disappeared. In a blink of an eye, he simply stopped being where he was. There was no surge of aether, nothing visible or detectable. In an instant, he vanished without a trace.
Thanks for the help. With a sour smile, I limped to the door, up the stairs, and out of the cathedral. The sun was setting. As I stumbled toward my car, I drew my phone, swiped away all notifications, and texted Vivian: ‘I’ve got the stuff. Meet me at the abbey. L’
She didn’t reply, but I knew she would be there.
