There was much cheering and applauding coming from the conference room at the end of the hall and Cesare halted the group. He knew the situation was about to turn grave for Matilda as he knew what was going on down there. He had to figure out a way to get Matilda away for her own sake.
“What? It’s just two guards. We can take them,” Adonis said. Rufus knew Cesare was thinking something and folded his arms to watch it unfold.
“Madam Crone. Do you have more of that sleeping potion?” Cesare asked her.
“Yes.”
“Find the ventilation system and pour it in there. The herb will keep us immune correct?”
She smiled. “I believe the service room is at the other end of the building. Don’t start without me,” she said excitedly. Cesare watched her until she was around the corner.
“What’s going on Borgia?”
“Raptio.”
“And that is?” Adonis asked raising an eyebrow.
“It means Matilda's daughter is having all of her holes stuffed.”
Lance stared at him, but Cesare avoided his eyes.
“Matilda shouldn't see this,” he said sounding remorseful as if he had committed the crime. The guys gazed at him curiously as each knew Cesare was an active member in the order some years past.
“You used to do this?” Lance asked folding his arms.
Cesare walked away silently. He reached the guards and pierced them both in the necks with one of the angel blades he carried. As their bodies fell to the ground, he swallowed and shifted his eyes as the sound of his beating heart drowned the sounds of the men on the other side of the door. The grip of his blade became weak as his hands clammed with the sweat of persecution by his brothers in arms.
Lance stared at Cesare as he hesitated in front of the door.
“Whatever is behind the fucking door is not who you are. None in our order are without a past that wouldn't break the heart of Satan. I cannot pass judgment,” Rufus said, resting his sword on his shoulder.
“Move dammit,” Adonis said pushing Cesare out of the way and opening the door. Adonis immediately fell into laughter causing about fifteen stares to turn his way. “So this is what you Jesus boys do when the church bells strike midnight,” he said tauntingly.
There were fifteen men with white sheets over their heads with a belt tied around the neck to keep it in place. Eight wolves sat watching as they stood in a circle, around a black rug with a man reading from the Book of Revelations. In the center Marissa was tied; a man beneath her, above her and in front of her; each stuffing themselves in her orifices.
“You Magia have no business here! Idolaters! False prophets! Sorcerers!” the man with the Bible shouted.
Adonis laughed and clapped his hands as he pulled out his guns. “Move. I dare you,” he said to a man reaching for something under a pile of cloth. “You three, get out of her,” he said speaking to the rapists.
“This harlot is to be purified! For the Lord saith: Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right to the tree of life and that they may enter the city by the gates. Outside are the dogs and sorcerers, and the sexually immoral and murderers, everyone who practices falsehood,” the hooded man shouted.
Adonis laughed even harder. “Did you just hear what the fuck you just said?” he asked as Cesare entered the room, locking the door behind him.
“Cesare Borgia. How is it that you've fallen from grace? You who were once the greatest crusader for God, has chosen to dine with the devil. It is not too late to repent and restore your good faith, to reenter the kingdom. Come back to the light,” he said.
“You talk of purification and seeing the light, well guess what, I look upon the tree of knowledge every day for I know good and evil and live it as I wish. You fucking rapists!” he shouted.
The man closed the Bible and threw it on Marissa who was bound and passed out. “These witches lie with the devil. Darkness cannot dwell where light shines. So we purify her spirit in the same manner it has been defiled,” he said.
“This fucker is insane,” Rufus said waiting for Cesare to take the lead. You have to face the darkness of your past, Rufus said to himself speaking of Cesare.
Cesare laughed as the hard reality of his past stood before him. He grabbed one of the men, placing his angel blade against his neck. “See, John, I have never left the light, just simply changed its hue to black,” he said slicing into the man's neck until his head fell off its shoulders. The blade felt like a knife slicing through a stick of butter, and as the warm shower of blood hit his face, he stretched out his arms; posing as Christ upon the cross.
“You monster! Demon! Not all can be saved, it is a shame, God could have used your skill,” John said quickly pulling out a gun and shooting Cesare in the shoulder. He fell to his knees, laughing as the kundalini began to rise up his spine. Two men tried to grab him and Cesare grabbed them by the cloths on the heads and set them ablaze. Adonis laughed as it was go time.
“Abomination. The devil's fire!” he shouted taking aim again, only to be disarmed by Lance. Rufus chopped heads as Adonis played target practice.
“Leave six alive. And let’s take them to the roof,” Rufus said as he began to sense Matilda's magic coming through the vents.
“Hurry up boys, the Crone is coming back,” Rufus said as he unbound Marissa, covering her naked, broken body with a robe. When Matilda turned the knob it wouldn’t budge, but a locked door was not to keep her out. She blew another dust upon it and it clicked, causing the Magia to turn and face her. She walked in the room, the four Knights stood around looking innocent, Adonis placing his gun behind his back as if he just got scolded.
Her eyes paid no attention to the carnage about them, rather the broken woman curled up in Rufus's arms. She instantly began to scream and grabbed her, rocking her as if she were a new born child. Rufus turned around to the scene behind him. The floor looked as though a red paint can was knocked over; heads missing from their bodies.
It smelled of blood and burning flesh, an indication that the Knights had come and conquered.
“Take those still breathing to the roof. I’ll take care of the Crone,” he said to his Knights.
Each of them grabbed two men and dragged them down the hall and to the elevator. Cesare paid no mind to his wound that was bleeding profusely. Mirrors lined the four sides of the elevator, pristinely clean, with no finger prints.
The guys rocked their head to the sound of soft elevator music with a pile of passed out men at their feet. Cesare was starting to feel better as carnage was to him, what Xanax does for the anxious. As they reached the roof, Adonis looked over the ledge and could see Rufus carrying both Matilda and Marissa to the jeep.
“How long does this fucking sleeping potion last?” Cesare asked kicking John.
Adonis shrugged as he continued to watch them below.
“She’s never going to be the same. Mila and Bibi should go visit her so they can explain what’s going on with her,” Lance said pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
“Yeah man, shit like that fucks witches up. Sometimes they turn into hags. The Blue Goddesses can definitely help her but only if she wants it,” Adonis added.
Cesare hopped off the side of the building down to an ice machine. He broke the lock and scooped the ice into a small bucket and flew back up. Adonis and Lance stared at him as he crunched ice like it was a handful of peanuts.
“What? These hotels always have the best ice,” he said happily. Below Matilda sent a stream of light in the sky which would summon her order to retrieve them.
As the light went up, Cesare saw within the light the wings of an angel. The blades at his side began to burn and he refocused his eyes, but it was gone.
“You want my blades, come and get them,” he said under his breath. He reached for his phone, but realized it was in the car and didn't want to risk being caught up in conversation or consoling the Reapers so stayed upon the roof.
Mila was heavy on his
mind as his jealous nature tended to always think the worse. Their relationship had taken its fair share of bad days, but they always pulled through and worked things out. Cesare's heart began to race and as he looked down at his hands, a black smoke formed around his aura.
They began to shake, and he looked over at Lance and Adonis to make sure their attention was elsewhere. He could feel the darkness creeping up his spine and as he rocked his head back, allowed it to massage his crown.
He felt invincible, like he could fly up into the Heavens and destroy everything that was Holy and true. There was a church within his view, a few miles towards the city. He gathered his fire and levitated as the darkness rushed through him. Cesare aimed and threw a large fire ball in the direction of the church.
“Man, what are you doing?!” Lance shouted watching the fire ball crash exploding the church. Adonis, as always, thought it was hilarious, but was also curious what prompted Cesare to do so.
He landed on his feet, smiling as if nothing happened. Lance was speechless and shook his head not really caring anymore. Cesare was beginning to stress him out to no end, and it was a feeling he didn’t much care for.
“You're going to have us like the Alchemists; uninvited everywhere,” Adonis laughed.
25
consequences
Cornelius paced back and forth as he attempted to heal himself from his wounds. Cesare’s blade would forever leave a mark down the front of his torso, and the internal burn would help him to remember it. His inconspicuous plan to trap the Knights failed miserably and he feared Solon's wrath. Dosos could see the concern on his face and cleared the room.
“Don't worry about the Knights. We'll get them. They don't seem to be sharp of mind.”
“It’s not the Knights I’m worried about,” he said giving him a nervous smiled. Cornelius could feel Solon's presence and dismissed Dosos from the room.
Solon walked around Castle Panchrest just as his students were gazing the night sky; Mars shining brightly, making itself known. He walked past them quietly, receiving hails and bows of respect from those along his path.
He smiled as he looked down at his palms and for the first time in ages, he could visibly see the outline of his aura. He laughed to himself, as he still felt victorious in regaining some of his powers; although weakened after La Croix’s presence had gone. His students turned his way as the sounds of laughter was something never heard coming from the quiet and reserved master.
“Master, are you alright?” a young man asked him with a look of worry upon his face.
Solon's eyes which were usually dark, with a heavy haze, were bright and shining. His skin looked healthy and the sigils upon his chest could be seen to move around; signs of a healthy Alchemist. Solon looked at his students who were staring and simply said: “Like you, I’m just enjoying my night.”
While La Croix had been expelled from him, he retained a small fraction of Mila's soul, giving him life. As he walked towards his chamber, he was met by Cornelius who instantly noticed the moving sigils upon his chest. His long black hair fell over his shoulders as he crossed his arms looking somewhat disappointed.
“And where have you been?” he asked, staring with his thin, pointy face.
“I took a walk,” he replied, attempting to squash the conversation quickly.
“A walk to where my love?” he asked, playing with his hair.
“Cornelius. Don't pester me. I'm having a great night,” Solon said sharpening his glare. Cornelius threw up his hands.
“Am I not allowed to inquire where my husband has been off to since yesterday?” Cornelius asked wrapping his arms around him. Solon laughed.
“Of course. I just needed to find myself,” he said staring. Cornelius grabbed Solon's face and kissed him; forcing his tongue in his mouth. Solon grabbed him by the hair and began to suck on his neck.
“Mmm. You feel different tonight. You feel, powerful,” Cornelius said pinning Solon to the wall. He began ripping his clothes off and running his fingers across the moving sigils upon his skin. As Cornelius kissed his way down, Solon stopped him.
“Not tonight,” he said. Cornelius stood up with a crazed look on his face. He grabbed Solon by the throat.
“Why not? Are you fucking someone else? Is that why your power has returned?”
Solon grabbed Cornelius and threw him on the ground.
“Don't put your hands on me!” he said pointing his finger in his face. Cornelius slapped him hard enough that it made an echo. Solon punched Cornelius in the mouth, hard enough to chip a tooth. He fought back but Solon had the upper hand, as he always did. Cornelius wiggled his way free and transmutated a rug into a cage, trapping Solon.
Solon screamed in anger and began melting the cage, causing Cornelius to stand in shock. Cornelius being more powerful than Solon, never tested his theory out of love.
“Do you wish to duel me!?!” Solon shouted, throwing him into a wall and pinning him with several spikes. Solon began to squeeze Cornelius with barbwire causing him to scream in agony. The cut upon his chest re-opened and blood began to drip upon the floor.
Tears of pain began to stream down his face as Solon twisted his hands. He pleaded for Solon to release him and he did. Cornelius coughed and tried to regain his composure, but Solon wasn't finished. He kicked Cornelius in the abdomen and began beating him with a club. Solon drug him by the hair down the hall to his torture chamber as he was quick to punish and slow to love.
Cornelius began to fall comatose while Solon tied him on a hanging rack and left him to be stretched. Solon turned the knob bit by bit, listening to the tightening of his muscles.
“I have always fancied the rack. It's one of the oldest devices of torture. They even used it back in the Roman era for extraction of information, despite their fancy for crucifixion,” Solon said as he continued to turn the knob.
Cornelius's body began to pop as the muscles detached from his bones. He screamed as his shoulders were dislocated and ankles snapped in half. Cornelius passed out from the pain silencing his screams.
“Hey, it’s rude to fall asleep on someone who's talking to you,” Solon said pouring hot water over his chest to wake him up. Cornelius screamed once again getting a smile from Solon.
“I don’t understand Cornelius. Why do we have to fight? In all honesty I used to like your company, but you are becoming a burden to me. You ruined a fantastic night. But I just want you to know, that if you ever raise your hand to me again, it will be your last,” he said kissing him.
He tortured Cornelius for the next hour until their wife Janna pleaded to Solon for his release. Solon would not risk war with the Sons of Ragnarok, and thus never laid a finger on Janna as she was niece to Lord Thorklid. Her long thick hair was tied in a ponytail to the side and her fur dress fell an inch past her lady parts. Solon stared at her and smiled.
She ran over to Cornelius and began to unlatch him. His limp body fell to the floor in a pool of his own blood and vomit.
“Good night Janna. Sweet dreams,” Solon said walking off as if nothing happened. Janna scoffed as she laid Cornelius's swollen and black face on her lap. She rocked him as she cried, wondering to herself how anyone could do such a thing. Cornelius was whispering something which Janna could barely understand.
“What? I can't hear you,” she said bringing her ear closer.
Cornelius spit up blood and it splashed against the side of her cheek. He pointed towards his robes on the floor as he tried to force the words out. Janna realized he was asking for the elixir in his side pocket and as he drank it, slowly began to heal. The color of his face began to turn from black, to pale and the swelling disappeared. While his wounds disappeared, the deep scarring on his heart remained and he wept.
Janna stayed by his side and shared his tears as they talked about the monster that was Solon.
“I hate him and love him at the same time. How is this possible?”
“Sometimes we don’t chose who we love. But this is not love Cor
nelius. Don’t you see? He’s afraid of you because you’re more powerful than he is. You already run the Order, everyone respects you, not him.”
“It’s almost like he blames me for losing his soul. I had nothing to do with it. He thinks I’m after his position, when I just want to love him. That’s all,” Cornelius continued.
“Give your love to someone who is worthy of it. Let us leave him to lay in his own misery. You can't allow him to beat you anymore. I can’t take it. And it’s gotten worse since I came here. You don’t deserve such punishment,” Janna said crying.
“Don't worry Janna. All will be as should be. Even the mighty must face defeat, and meek shall eventually triumph. I shall have my day,” Cornelius said holding her hand tight.
***
As Solon lay his body and mind to rest, The Prophet sat atop the rooftop of Temple Eliyon gazing at the stars. Quietly he sipped on a cup of tea; the soft scent of frankincense burning beside him. His feet, tender and swollen from standing before the masses were propped up; his throat sore and raspy from giving his hearty message.
Grace from the Demiurge caused the Prophet to age slower than usual; looking no more than fifty at one hundred and sixteen years. This night he felt his age and that worried him. Has grace left my vessel? Is this the consequence of my error? he asked himself, as he was overcome with fatigue.
The Prophet had given thousands of speeches, but never before did he become drained of his energy. He felt in his heart that he had made a mistake and misinterpreted Dante's visions, acting on the desires of his own heart and the guilt ate at him. Malak relieved the sentinels who were watching the Prophet closely as he could sense his father was not happy.
Knights of Enmity: The Barons Have Fallen (Descending Fires Book 1) Page 31
