Heaven's Fallen
Page 8
A group of a dozen demons had emerged from the trees, and Roselynn swore under her breath at the sight of them. Most of them were the typical demonic fare, brutes that weren’t dangerous, but in the back was one that worried her. The pallid, eyeless upper body of a woman rested atop a scorpion’s body, the latter with eyes, and with four arms weaving symbols for spells in the air. Hellweavers were not a good sign, and they were generally too rare to send against an outpost like this one.
“That is a very good question,” Roselynn agreed, glancing over the group of demons. She wasn’t worried about anyone but the hellweaver, but if she had to protect Haral, a fight would become problematic. Fortunately, the two of them had one major advantage. “We’re going to fly directly up, Haral. Your only chance is if we signal the fortress that there’s an attack.”
“Okay… when?” Haral asked nervously, and the demons began loping forward, growling as they did so.
“Three… two… one… now!” Roselynn’s voice was low, but she snapped out her wings with the last word and shot upward.
Or, to be more accurate, she attempted to fly upward. The instant Roselynn’s wings beat for the first time, she felt something wrong as the muscles through her back twitched and cramped, and the beat had no power to it. Instead of taking flight, she went up only an inch or two before half-collapsing, all her muscles cramping suddenly. As she gasped in pain, her right arm was wrenched upward and a spike of pure pain lanced up through her shoulder.
“What—?” Roselynn gasped, looking over to see Ember fall from her nerveless grasp and Haral holding her arm, the stiletto buried in her shoulder through the thinner chain guarding Roselynn’s armpit.
“A two-part poison to bypass any poison detection you might have, split between the letter and me. I couldn’t have you flying away,” Haral said, all her hesitation and fear gone as she smiled. “Coupled with the poison on this dagger, you won’t be going anywhere.”
“Why are you…?” Roselynn gasped, pain surging through her with every heartbeat, and a fuzzy sensation washing over her thoughts.
“As if I’d tell you. That would simply make this more difficult, and I can’t have that,” Haral replied idly. “Suffice to say that you were starting to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. I do need to find out what you knew, though, which is why I employed others.”
“Speaking of which, Ms. Haral, the more you speak, the more difficult it will be to remove your words from her memories,” the hellweaver spoke in a voice that had a faint buzz to it, almost like there were wasps within her pale throat. “I would suggest you cease.”
“As you wish. How soon will you be able to get me the information I need?” Haral asked.
Roselynn felt her legs give way beneath her as her body began going numb. The demons had surrounded her, and she glared at them balefully, anger and frustration coiling within her, but her throat wasn’t responding as she tried to speak. The numbness had killed much of her pain, but as her thoughts grew fuzzy, she also felt fear. Fear for her failure to avenge Isalla’s death, and anger that she’d fallen into the trap Haral had set for her.
“The Flame of Ember is legendary for her stubborn nature, so you must expect as much as three months from now. The ladies of the spire require time to work,” the hellweaver buzzed in return. “Now, I must work while the memories are still fresh.”
“Very well,” Haral conceded, stepping back. At least the annoyance on her face was satisfying, Roselynn thought. The problem was the approaching hellweaver.
“Hold still, Flame of Ember,” the demon hissed at Roselynn. “The more you struggle, the more painful this will be.”
Roselynn glared at her hatefully, but the demon simply began to cast a spell, glowing scarlet diagrams forming in each of her hands. Then it thrust them against her head, and pure agony radiated out from them as the magic slammed into Roselynn’s mental shields.
She didn’t relent, though, fighting back against the demon’s magic with everything she had. Until she lost consciousness entirely, Roselynn fought against the spells trying to warp her recent memories.
But fail she did, and at long last Roselynn lost consciousness.
Chapter 13
The axe bit into the wood solidly, though it didn’t go quite as deep as Isalla would’ve liked. She’d never cut logs before this, and she was learning there was a certain amount of technique to it that she’d never realized before. When she did it right, the downward swing was almost effortless, as the weight of the axe would bring it down with sufficient force to split most log sections they had on hand. The problem was getting it right.
Lifting the axe and the log, Isalla brought it down again, which forced the axe blade the rest of the way through the wood. She still was fascinated by how easy Kanae made it look, a memory which made her pause to think. The previous week, she’d come out early in the morning, just after she’d heard the sound of splitting wood, and she’d stopped, stunned.
Kanae had stood there in simple trousers and a sleeveless shirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. While tall and broad-shouldered, Kanae wasn’t rippling with muscles, but neither did she look like some wilting flower who’d never trained. Her muscles were toned and distinct as she smoothly placed a log onto the stump and swung the axe, which flashed in the morning light before splitting the log almost effortlessly. Kanae had kept going for almost fifteen minutes, until she had a faint sheen of sweat before stopping to collect the wood.
Isalla hadn’t been afraid of staring, and having seen it, she’d asked if she could use the axe as part of her own recovery. Kanae hadn’t objected, so Isalla had tried for herself… and almost immediately lost her grip on the axe. It had taken a couple of days before she could swing it properly, and then some instruction from Kanae after a few… less proficient attempts. She’d learned as best she could, though, and it was doing her upper body a world of good as she tried to rebuild her muscles, while she’d taken to jogging around the clearing in the mornings as well as her other exercises. She had wondered what Kanae used the wood for, since it was only used in her alchemical lab and the fireplace, but then a group of demons from town had come and traded some food for a large pile of wood.
Accompanying Kanae on a few of her house calls had been fascinating as well. The people she visited were all demons, save for a single family of humans that had startled Isalla, but their livelihoods were eclectic. Few of the farmhouses had large fields, which didn’t surprise her after thinking about it. The land was too uneven and rocky for it to be easy to have large farms, but she’d been surprised at how verdant the fields they had were. Many kept a variety of animals, most of which were able to defend themselves, and all the families seemed reasonably well-armed. She found out later that a good number of the locals collected herbs or the hides of monsters to sell in the larger towns or to traveling merchants.
“Water?” Kanae asked, a flask in her hand as she stood a half-dozen paces back, well clear of the axe’s reach.
“Please,” Isalla replied, breathing heavily as she set down the axe.
Kanae stepped forward, and Isalla took the flask and half-drained it over several seconds. The water was cool and refreshing, and Isalla let out a sigh of relief as she lowered the flask again.
“Thank you, that is very much appreciated,” Isalla said, capping the flask and handing it back. “I can’t believe how easy you make this look.”
“Lots of practice. At a certain point, you gain enough experience that you can make many things look simple,” Kanae replied, shaking her head slightly as she took the flask. “After as many years of practice as I’ve had, it’s no wonder I’ve grown rather proficient.”
“I have to ask… you’ve talked a bit about your past, about fighting in the army and such, and it sounds like it was quite some time ago, especially with this stump looking so ancient,” Isalla said, nodding at the stump, which was so weathered she was startled it hadn’t split yet either. “How long have you been here, Kanae? For that matt
er, how old are you? I know demons don’t age past their prime if they don’t want to, much like angels, but…”
“That is prying a touch, Isalla,” Kanae said, smiling and looking at the stump with a considering look. “Though you aren’t wrong, either. I probably should replace the stump again, since it probably won’t last more than a few more years.”
Isalla didn’t say anything more, as she could tell that Kanae was working her way around to answering, if she answered at all. It wouldn’t be surprising if Kanae didn’t answer in the end, since her past wasn’t necessarily relevant, or possibly something she wasn’t proud of.
“I’m not going to tell you precisely how old I am. Older than you by a large margin… and old enough to remember the last major war,” Kanae finally said, looking at Isalla, her gaze revealing a surprising weariness. “Twelve centuries ago, I responded with excitement when the war began. A century and a half of brutal warfare… well, it cured me of any belief in glory, Isalla. I left the army afterward and went traveling, seeing what else there was to the hells and part of the mortal world. What I found didn’t help, and about five hundred years ago I settled down here. I only knew the basics of healing at the time, but time taught me much.”
“I…” Isalla found herself almost speechless.
Calling the War of Decimation just a major war would be putting it mildly. It had begun as a major offensive by the angelic legions and the Firetear Alliance to take back some of the lands of one of the Alliance’s members. The Fallen Kingdoms had rallied, as had the demonic legions, and quickly the war had turned into one of the most horrifying incidents in the history of the wars between the heavens and hells. No war had resulted in the demonic forces coming closer to breaching a gate to the heavens, and it had even waged its way into the hells briefly. Heroes and villains had fallen, and all reports Isalla had seen indicated that nearly one-tenth of each generation that had fought in the war had died, proving that the name was accurate. That war was the reason that both sides had been on an uneasy, quiet footing for over a millennium. They clashed, but no one wished for such devastation to strike again.
“You survived the entire war?” Isalla asked, her horror growing at the thought.
“Yes,” Kanae said simply, patting the stump gently.
“How? Were you stationed at the rear lines?” Isalla asked. “Everything I heard about the war… well, not many people were kept on the front lines, and I’ve never met anyone who survived all of it.”
Kanae laughed, the sound bitter and sharp. “Well, you have now. I’ve met a few others who did, and I know a number of them did on the side of angels. Most people tried to get away after the first few battles, but my choices… well, they were limited. I was at the battle of Scarlet Peaks, as well as the siege of Rosken. Surviving them, though… that was pure fortune, from my perspective.”
Isalla flinched. The battle of Scarlet Peaks had renamed the mountains where they were located, for the snow-capped peaks were said to have been stained red in blood by the sacrifices of those who’d fallen in breaking the demon assault driving toward the gates of the heavens. As for the siege of Rosken… it had been one of the most fought-over strategic fortresses, and three mortal gods, two archangels, and two demon lords had joined the fray in the end. Their clash of power had destroyed the citadel and left a wasteland of wild magic which had been abandoned ever since, and had been a telling blow in the war, as only one deity, archangel, and demon lord had survived the battle.
For a long minute, they were both silent. Isalla watched Kanae as she sat on the stump, staring at the sky for a long minute. She didn’t look like a demon that had survived the War of Decimation. She looked… well, much like a succubus, if larger and without wings or as large of horns, which was unusual enough. Isalla tried to work through what it must have been like in the war, but her mind simply couldn’t process it.
“I can’t even imagine what that must have been like. I… I really can’t blame you for choosing to abandon the war,” Isalla said. She was going to continue, but Kanae interrupted.
“I didn’t abandon the war.” Kanae’s tone was soft but precise. “I waited until it was over, then I left the army. I faked my own death to ensure that people would leave me alone, then chose to travel.”
“That isn’t what I meant, but you’re the one who was in the war. What I meant was that I don’t blame you for losing faith in the war between heavens and hells,” Isalla corrected herself, toying with the axe handle, then taking it over to prop against the shed with a grunt. “I just have to ask… why here? Of all the realms of the mortal world and the hells… you’re near the heart of where conflict might occur, with a gate from the mortal world only days away from you. Why here?”
“That is the question, isn’t it? I have a couple of reasons… but all of them are shallow. I could have settled in many places in the hells without issue. I’m a skilled warrior, and those are useful almost anywhere. The mortal world… that wouldn’t have been possible back then. There was too much death and destruction,” Kanae murmured, letting out a soft sigh as she stood up again. “I’m not sure why I chose this place, Isalla. Perhaps I was simply tired of traveling… or perhaps this was just comfortable. I’m not entirely certain.”
“I guess that’s as good of a reason as any you might have had. I don’t know… I just was thinking that the town and everything is a little bit odd for someone like you, and I was right. You’re incredibly unusual for the area, and I had no idea how true that was,” Isalla said, her voice hesitant as she paused, then put her hand on Kanae’s shoulder with a bit of trepidation. “I’m sorry I brought it up, if it was painful for you. I’m more surprised you were willing to help me at all, considering how bad the war was.”
“That was a long time ago, Isalla. I’ve had a lot of time to work through things, and you’re hardly the first angel I’ve known,” Kanae replied, glancing over her shoulder and smiling at the angel. “Not even the first wingless one, for that matter.”
“What? But you said—” Isalla began, then stopped as Kanae stretched.
“I said I’d never treated an angel before. The army alone captured a good many angels, though many were abused and tormented,” Kanae explained calmly. “I took up healing centuries after that, though.”
“Oh. That’s… well, it gives me mixed feelings,” Isalla replied, her stomach tightening at the thought. “Did you…?”
“I never forced myself on anyone, and any angels I injured were in battle,” Kanae said. “I might have, some days, but I never sought your kindred out for it. Time changed me, somewhat.”
“Huh. Well, it makes me feel a little better,” Isalla admitted, looking over at where the sun was ascending through the dark clouds on the horizon, the orb a deep red. After a moment, she asked, “Do you blame me for wondering?”
“Not at all. If you didn’t wonder, I’d think you were suicidal. Or maybe masochistic, for that matter,” Kanae said, grinning.
“Uh, what?” Isalla asked, slightly confused. She understood the first part, but… she couldn’t help but ask, “What do you mean by masochistic? I haven’t heard the term before.”
“Oh? Well, hmm…” Kanae paused, looking slightly taken aback, and tapped her lips before shaking her head. “No, I think I’d best not address that just now.”
“What? Why?” Isalla followed Kanae as she headed toward the house.
“I just think it might disturb you, and it’s for the best not to do that,” Kanae replied promptly.
“Oh, that’s just… that’s just making excuses. I’m a grown woman and have been for decades,” Isalla said in exasperation. “I can handle finding out what a silly word means!”
“Really?” Kanae asked, turning to look at Isalla speculatively. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes!” Isalla exclaimed, growing annoyed.
“Very well. Listen carefully, then,” Kanae said, smiling slightly. Isalla nearly took a step backward but kept still as Kanae came close to h
er ear and spoke softly. “Masochism is when one finds pleasure, usually sexual pleasure, from personal humiliation, pain, or both, Isalla. Does that apply to you?”
For a moment, what Kanae said didn’t register, and then Isalla’s curiosity turned to horrified mortification as heat rose in her cheeks. She’d never even considered the possibility, and she quickly stepped away, shaking her head vehemently as she exclaimed, “No, of course not! I’ve never even considered something like that, and… and how is that even possible?”
“Mm… like it or not, some people do feel like that, Isalla,” Kanae replied, smiling as she took a step back. “Now, I’m going to take care of sorting some herbs, hm?”
Isalla couldn’t bring herself to speak again, staring after her host in shock and with just a thread of curiosity. She didn’t think she had any interest in what Kanae had said, but it was interesting, in a mortifying sort of way.
Chapter 14
Kanae took a deep breath of the air as she walked still deeper into the forest. The air was mostly clear, though she could smell just a hint of the Fungal Abyss in the breeze. She was closer to the Abyss than usual, though, so that much was natural.
Walking out to Odrak’s home wasn’t the most pleasant of trips, Kanae knew, which was the main reason that the elderly cyclops had built his home out this far from the main trade routes. He liked being left alone, but since he wasn’t a demon, the man was starting to lose his strength. That was the main reason the town’s mayor sent her to check on Odrak occasionally.
“Not that I really mind coming out here. It’s peaceful enough, most of the time,” Kanae murmured, looking upward for a moment. Her smile faded as she considered her guest and sighed. “Though it is somewhat complicated, with Isalla at home. She… makes things harder.”
The forest didn’t answer, of course. Still, Kanae couldn’t help but think about her angelic guest. Isalla was interesting, and for the most part, Kanae liked her. That didn’t mean that her presence was without its problems, though.