Crystalline Chaos

by Gabriela Voelske

  Something caught her foot and she went tumbling over it, crashing head first into the snow. With a curse, she shook herself free and rolled back onto her front, taking a look at just what she had fallen over. Another of the strange creatures lay pinned to the floor, impaled by charred pieces of wood. It was yet again a new variety to those they had seen so far. Two ridged wings spread out from either side of its thin body, connecting from just below the head to just above the tail and the semi-buried feet, with yellow tips poking out from the edges of the wings. Angled, purple tipped spines flanked a pale yellow band down the middle of its body, spines that she appeared to have narrowly missed during her fall. The head was buried in the snow but from its squirming she knew it to be still alive, the lifeblood that was their crystal veins lay in full view, nestled behind the spines. With quick, uniform movements she split one vein and then the other, rending the creature lifeless in the snow.

  “Dad?” she shouted, but her voice was rapidly lost in the bitter wind. A bloody mark on a nearby tree caught her eye; he had been injured, but how badly she did not know. She slunk over to the tree, cautious of any other unwanted guests that may be hanging around and peered around the trunk.

  What she saw caused her to immediately sheathe her weapons and break her cover. Amnur laid collapsed against the tree, clutching the leather bound book tightly, with a single wound was evident in his abdomen. She was unsure how long he had been there but there was a fair amount of blood. Feeling around the immediate area was not warm or wet, however; he had possibly used his magic to burn the wound shut, before collapsing down. Sakura gently slapped his face, trying to elicit a reaction from him. When that bore no results she softly pushed her fingers against his neck, trying to feel a pulse.

  He was alive, but his pulse was weak and his skin cold; he had been collapsed down exposed like this for a decent period of time and would need medical attention. Sakura removed the wing cover from her back and tied it around his front in an attempt to keep him warm. The distance back to Linlake could prove fatal if she didn’t give him anything. However, she was well aware that she was going to struggle to carry his weight, not that she had much choice; leaving him to die was not an option. Pressing his wings into his body, Sakura curved one arm around his back and the other under his legs and heaved him off the ground, trying her best to keep him held tightly. The last thing he needed was for that wound to reopen, judging by the blood alone she knew such an event would prove fatal for him, more so when they were still some distance from help.

  Winds savaged her now exposed wings, making her body scream with pain. Gritting her teeth she bore on, she had to get back, regardless of the cost to her own body.

  * * *

  Ferdan was sat next to Ciel around a sealed stone fire pit inside what he had taken to be Crono’s home. It was sufficiently sizable enough to house him as well was Drake while remaining with plenty of spare space for Ferdan and the others. Makeshift beds had been erected around the property, causing it to look rather disorganised; a fact which irritated Crono. The demon was overly keen on keeping the place clean, often complaining when someone actively made a mess. It came over an odd habit to Ferdan, for such a huge demon to be irked as he was over it.

  The major difference in the anatomy of Crono and Drake also interested him, despite them being of similar builds they varied greatly; Crono still had the usual humanoid legs of a demon and wasn’t nearly as stocky as Drake, despite being only a few feet shorter than him. Ferdan had been closely observing them since they had arrived here. It was rare for a human to be so close to such demons on an apparently friendly basis, he was utilising this opportunity the best he could, while still focusing on the pressing issues on hand.

  His attention changed to Ciel when he received a slight nudge before the demon leant in towards him. “Where’s Sakura and Amnur?” he asked quietly, trying not to pull the attention of the others. Despite what had happened they were in good spirits, he didn’t want to break that yet.

  “They went to check something, they should be back soon,” Ferdan smiled; Ciel knew he wasn’t telling the full truth to him. He wanted to go look for them, to ensure they were safe but he did not know the area, meaning he would just be a liability if he wandered off. Even if he was not Linlake’s leader he felt responsible for their well-being; his father had not sheltered him from what leading a race entailed. He knew from a young age his responsibilities to the race if he ever came into power, whether it temporarily or a more permanent basis. Amnur had been surprisingly welcoming to him, although he knew part of it was down to the situation that had been thrust onto them. They were willing to help and that’s all that Amnur cared about. Sakura had just carried on as if their blood relations meant nothing, often opting to talk to him or Drake over any of the other demons that lived there. Her bright yet fierce personality always managed to cheer him up, making jokes about the terrible situation or the seemingly pointless banter she tossed at her father who threw it right back. They argued for the fun of it, nothing bad ever came of it.

  Ciel sighed. He worried for his own father and those who had become his close family; it would come as a surprise if these events were limited to the West.

  Ferdan patted the demon on the shoulder, comforting his increasingly worried state. “They’ll be fine, don’t worry,” he assured Ciel, obtaining a small smile from him.

  A loud thump against the door gathered their attention. Ciel signalled Drake and they cautiously approached the doorway, Ciel taking the left with Drake on the right. With his dominant hand resting firmly on the hilt of a blade, he threw the door open and recoiled in shock. Sakura stood before them, still desperately carrying her father. Her front was saturated with blood, her wings fell limp and ripped and raw fingers gripped tightly to her father’s lifeless body. On seeing them she collapsed down; her body would respond to her no longer and her consciousness was fading fast. Ciel rushed out and caught her while Drake stopped Amnur’s limp body from hitting the floor. The onlookers merely stood there in shock, trying to take in what just happened.

  With a strong hit from his wing, Ciel slammed the door shut before turning his wings inward to cradle her freezing body, trying to grab back her consciousness. “Hey, hey, what happened?”

  Her eyes locked onto his but she managed no words, he could tell alone from the dullness of her usually bright eyes just how exhausted she was. Crono barked an order to the other demons that were inside the cabin to bring blankets but it was unnecessary. They had already sprung into action, bringing every piece of cloth, leather or fur they could find.

  Ciel and Drake needed little recommendation to bring the injured pair near to the fire, where Ferdan rushed over to Sakura’s side. She saw him and weakly tried to indicate to her father, managing only to vaguely look in his direction; Ferdan appeared to recognise the indication though and changed his attention to Amnur.

  Horrified by what he saw, Ferdan quickly set to work healing up his wounds; it was a delicate process with such a sensitive target area.

  “He only just managed to survive. The area he sealed was starting to reopen,” he spoke aloud to the nearby crowd, stepping back now he had done the needed work. Crono walked up to Drake carrying a small bucket of warm water and a rag; the blood on Amnur’s body would have long since gone cold and he wished to remove it. Seeing his close friend covered in blood was not an easy thing for him. Drake held him steady in the nook of his arm and Crono set about softly wiping the blood from Amnur’s skin, a deeply pained expression held tight to his facial features.

  Once he had finished, he discarded the rag and bucket and fetched another set. It was purely a precaution, whatever had attacked them may have had venom or other toxins at its disposal, using the same dirtied rag and bucket could spread it to both of them. A towel and some blankets had been handed over to Drake which he used to dry and then wrap Amnur up into, before settling down beside the fire.

  Meanwhile, Ferdan had been seeing to Sakura’s wounds, the puncture
s on her chest had not hit anything notable so it was a simple task to heal them back up. Her wings, however, were a different story, the membrane had become too cold and contracted and it caused splits in the skin that ran up from the bottom. Until the skin warmed back up again there was little he could do to repair the damage, all he could do was soothe the raw cracks with salve. Her fingers were only slightly scraped and bruised, but the bitter conditions had made them frost nipped and they would need to be warmed up quickly but gently. The armour on the top half of her body had become nearly frozen due to the blood that had seeped into it. It would be best to remove the piece to allow her to heat up.

  “We’ll need to remove her top,” Ferdan noted, the thought embarrassed Ciel. He was not keen on removing her armour without her permission but she had since passed out, forcing the choice onto him. Ciel teased at the leather straps that kept the armour bound together, freeing them from their fastenings. Due to their wings, demon armour had to be made in a specific way; it was fastened at the sides and down the arms with thick thread or straps. Elongated slits in the back allowed the wings to be unhindered but it left a vulnerability where the slits ended at the bottom of the armour, so a bottom set of straps were added to cover this problem up.

  Once he had loosened all the fastenings, he hooked his fingers under the ridge at the top of the wing slit and lifted the back piece free, before carefully removing the front piece.

  Her body was covered with two thick cloth straps that formed a cross-shaped pattern across her chest, it too had blood over it but it was not yet frozen. Ferdan opted to let her keep it on, as he was not keen to face her anger over it being removed, nor did he want to make Ciel any more uncomfortable than he already was.

  Crono came over with the fresh bucket and wiped her chest clean of the blood, noting Ciel’s deeply worried look. There was more there in the boy’s expression than just worry for a friend, he actively felt for her. It was a strange one to pick considering the bad blood between the two families. He gently dried her body and handed Ciel some blankets, before turning to go and discard of both buckets and rags properly. Ciel wrapped her tightly in the blankets, laying her wings against her body before settling her in against him as he sat by the fire. He caressed her smooth and yet sharp face and let out a sigh. It was going to be a long drawn out night.

  Chapter 7: Unusual Alliances

  The East fared slightly better in the wake of the spires, as the fierce storms rolled out slower across the wide plains, blanketing the horizon with a growing black mass. Far villages had decided it best to flee as soon as the threat emerged, causing a refugee crisis within Aelburn and Eriden. Shadekeep’s close settlements were enclosed within its sheltering forest; the situation had not yet deteriorated enough to require them to abandon their homes in favour for the solid walls of the keep.

  As the snow started to spread across the now fortified cities, strange creatures had started to emerge near to the enclosed walls. The attacks, however, were not immediately aggressive; it appeared that the creatures were testing the response and defences of the cities, trying to locate a hole to exploit. Where possible, they were dispatched where they stood. There had been a period of trial and error to discover effective weapons and strategies. The fact of their specific weak points and immunity to non-physical magic had been noticed quickly and with minimal casualties. To think the attacks would remain so subdued forever was a fool’s hope, but it was a hope they so desperately held onto. So far the creatures that had attacked were fairly easy to locate a weakness on; future opponents may not be so convenient during the heat of battle.

  Despite all the dire consequences that could occur, for once, Thardosean felt comfortable with everything, because what he thought was impossible had happened. Uriel finally had to admit that his suspicions were wrong, to the King’s surprise, but that was not the most surprising turn in the tale. Sebastian had suggested at a longshot that they ignore past histories for now and work together to deal with the most pressing problems at hand. If they didn’t do something, they would have no one to preside over, or even survive it themselves. A long silence was held between them before Uriel agreed, though he sounded to have many resignations with the decision. Both Sebastian and Thardosean had been shocked to hear him agree, though Uriel had made the point firm that it was only a temporary agreement between them. Once it was all finished, everything would return to how it was once, with Uriel creating nothing but hassle for the Demon King. Sebastian had wished that the angel would see sense, far too many unnecessary deaths happen every year due to tensions between the two; still, he had agreed, for now. It was better than nothing.

  They had discussed their next course of action, as well as talks of safeguards if the worse happened and one city fell. Sebastian had pulled Uriel to one side, an action that he disliked, to talk about a certain issue now they had been dismissed and were out of earshot of Thardosean. While Sebastian did not implicate the King to be involved, he did suggest that the Magi Council were not as innocent as they were claiming to be, hiding the evidence deep within its sealed halls.

  The claim did not surprise Uriel; he just simply stated that Arariel and his understudies had not managed to find any solid proof, but had looked into the matter. Talk of Arariel and Solomon working together arose, between the two of them they should have enough avenues to sift out an answer one way or the other.

  * * *

  Arariel was stunned by the offer he received later that day, he wondered if it were really Uriel stood in front of him. Perhaps he was playing some trick on him, to test his reaction.

  “Sure I’ll work with Solomon,” Arariel replied, trying to keep his voice level, “…I mean if I have to and all.” Truth be told, he was very keen to do so. Solomon was infamous for his talents for one so young, he had inherited his parents’ specific disciplines of magic and could use both to an impressive standard.

  A demon’s inherent dark magic branched into many different groups, while they all focused on the darker side of the natural energies, the element itself is pure and untainted. Light and darkness are essential for one another, and imbalance of either causes severe repercussions. Two such branches were blood magic and necromancy, the two Solomon happened to be well-versed in. Both had innately negative views surrounding them, their raw strength was often abused by their wielders to devastating effect. Solomon, however, had learnt to use them in their native form; blood magic allowed for potent and complete healing of even mortal injuries while necromancy was the governance of death, allowing him to send on restless spirits and other such things that Arariel had heard. Considering the long history between the two races, he often wondered just how many spirits haunted Eriden, forever resenting those who wronged them.

  Uriel was sceptical of his muffled response but let it slide, for now, he needed Arariel to carry out the required task, any punishment would have to wait for later. “They will be waiting for you to phase yourself there,” he remarked before turning and leaving the room, as coldly as he had come. Phasing between two spaces was a feat that required a generous amount of mana, as well as being rather obvious to any mages within the area who could pick up on the individual’s incoming mana. The other problem was that the target location required a runic circle or a properly tagged object, as such the spell was useless for attacking fortified locations. In order to save Arariel the exhaustion, his understudies would be casting it for him. He did really hope they had learnt the spell correctly or it would not end well for him. By now they had already prepared the runic circle for him and had connected to the target circle; he had to admit, they certainly worked fast.

  Arariel took a deep breath and walked into the middle of the circle, closing his eyes as he entered. The angel did not wish to see what happens if the spell went wrong. Chanting from the other mages rose around him in harmony. The process had begun, this he could tell as the strange feeling of magically induced nausea had begun to hit him, churning his stomach. A strong surge of warmth went over him, o
nly to be quickly met with a prevailing chill. It had been pleasantly brief and Arariel still appeared to be alive, or so he hoped.

  He opened his eyes and was greeted by blurry dark shapes in front of him; the spell had worked but not to the best standard. Arariel tried to take a forward step but rapidly found himself falling, as it had left him rather disorientated. He would not be leaving a good first impression on his hosts. One of the shapes shifted and caught him, hauling him back to his feet, nearly tipping him over in the opposite direction.

  “That didn’t seem to work too well,” Solomon chuckled while supporting the dizzy angel, looping one of Arariel’s arms around his back.

  “Are you going to be alright to drag him back to your chambers?” Iomor enquired; Solomon was taller than the angel but he was not the strongest and his weight might prove too much to bear.

  “I should be fine, it’s not too far from here anyway.”

  Sebastian was just amused by the whole thing, watching as the angel wobbled while Solomon tried to hold him straight. He was young and fairly scrawny. It was an odd pick for Uriel to have as his own Court Mage but he must have some talent hidden behind his plain exterior. Iomor beckoned for them to return back into the keep, propping the door open with his body. They obliged and entered the welcoming dark halls, drawing dubious looks over their new companion. Sebastian waved them on, treaty or not, they were still wary of the angel.

  Solomon had begun to drag away Arariel when Iomor shut the door behind them. It closed with a loud bang, the winds forcing the door solidly shut. Conveniently for Solomon, the dizzy angel was able to walk, if he needed a lot of assistance in walking straight. Eventually, he managed to get Arariel to his chamber, pushing the door open and settling him down on the edge of his bed. Individual rooms were a rarity within Shadekeep due to the restrictions of space, Solomon was lucky to have one, even if it was tiny.