Young Writers Society

I'm a little unsure of the first scene. I might take it out or I might not. I don't know yet. Either way, this is the second chapter, and trust me; it's far darker than the first chapter, hence the 18+. You've been warned. Please let me know if it's too much! Otherwise, enjoy. Feedback is appreciated.

And if you want translations for anything you don't understand (such as the language I created for most of my fantasy novels), just ask!

Chapter 2 - Part 1

Jakome stretched out on his bed, surveying the splattering of red that coating almost everything. Some of it was dry, some only half-dry and there was some that was still wet. Fresh, only moments since it was spilt. Satisfaction made Jakome careless, but it didn’t matter. He was in his home now, and it was a well guarded home.

“Jakome?” The man in question sat up, gaze on the door as it opened. A dark haired boy entered the room, peeking round the half-open door. Jakome sighed and slipped out of the bed, padding over to a nearby desk. He pulled on a robe and moved to the door. “Are you--oh, there you are.”

“Mikel, what are you doing here?” Jakome nudged his cousin out into the hall and closed the door behind him as he follow the boy out. He didn’t want his little ‘brother’ seeing what he did. “I thought you were still in Esharia, with my sister.” Mikel seemed to fidget for a moment and Jakome frowned. “Mikel?”

The boy sighed and looked up at the dark-haired man with wide eyes. “It was Eloisa’s idea,” he muttered, looking away. “She wanted to visit you. I don’t know why. She’s silly sometimes... Anyway. She couldn’t find you or get your location out of the guards so she went and found a room to rest in.” Jakome raised an eyebrow as the boy fell silent.

“And you, cousin?” he asked, crouching by the boy. “Why did you come looking for me?” The boy looked up, glaring at the man. Jakome just waited. Mikel would tell him soon enough. He had an idea of what the boy wanted. After all, Jakome had denied him of it before he left to conquer Arik.

The boy scowled at him, gaze slipping away. “You know what I want,” he mumbled, face flushing. Jakome smirked. Ah, yes. Of course the boy would want that. “You know damn well what it is I want... You made sure I would want it.” Jakome turned the door handle and pushed open the door. “You made me what I am, Jakome.”

“In you go, then,” Jakome said and gestured towards the open door. Mikel shot the man a glare before the boy entered the room, Jakome quickly following him. The boy didn’t even seem to acknowledge the blood stained sheets as Jakome pushed the door closed. It shut with a click of finality. Mikel would be getting what he wanted. Jakome wasn’t going to deny him any longer.

~-~-~

Cassian Van Alstyne crouched on the rooftop, gazing down into the temple. He watched as the dark haired man followed the boy into the room and over to the bed. The boy hesitated before the bed, looking towards the man. The man smirked and picked the boy up, sitting him on the wooden foot of the bed. He proceeded to lean down and kiss him full on the lips, pressing their bodies together. Cassian looked away, disgusted. He knew who it was. Jakome and his cousin. The man was disgusting.

With a sigh, he stood and turned his back on the scene, keeping his wings high and out of the muck coating the roof. He didn’t have time to clean them. And he certainly did not have time to be spying on the Esharian King and a boy. He was supposed to go find a way into the dungeons to rescue Cóis. Now, how was he supposed to do that?

Frowning, Cassian stepped off the roof and let his wings flare out, gliding down the ground where a dark figure stood. He landed and spared the woman a glare. Catrina just smiled at him. “How long are we going to be playing cat and mouse with the guards for?”

She just smiled at him. “For as long as it takes.”

Cassian snorted and started walking, letting his wings fade into nothingness. Of course the demon would spout that crap to him. Didn’t Nereza know better than to send a demon into the mortal realm? No, she probably did know, but just didn’t care. He paused, glancing back when he realised she wasn’t following him. “Catrina?”

She turned and swiftly joined him. “Let’s go,” she said, gesturing to the street ahead of them. It was empty and quiet. Even during the day, Arik was almost dead, thanks to Jakome’s guards. Then again, they were in a back alley, and not one of the more frequently used streets. “Cassian. Let’s go.”

The Seraphim shook his head and started walking. Parsia had granted him the ability to hide his wings, but she had teamed up with Nereza and the dark goddess had sent him the demon. Cassian didn’t like her at all. She felt all wrong, off. And dark. Definitely dark. It made his skin crawl. But help was help. And apparently he could trust the demon. After all, she’d delivered the message to Cóiseam swiftly, and without getting caught. Cassian didn’t want to know how she’d done that. Asking her that might be asking too much, and then she might leave. And where would that leave him? Right where it always did-- Stuck. He didn’t like stuck. Stuck meant he wouldn’t be going anywhere. Stuck was like a Seraphim without wings---earthbound. Unable to fly. He didn’t like that either.

“Cassian.” The Seraphim looked up at the sound of his name leaving her lips. He glanced her way, curious. She wasn’t looking at him. “Why do you put up with me?” The Seraphim blinked. Why was she asking him this?

“I do it for Parisa,” he said after a moment of thought. He hadn’t known what else to say, really. The air was suddenly full of tension. Tension that Cassian could only half-recognise. He sighed. She liked him? Oh, how did he not see that one coming? Really, he should've expected it. Her kind were drawn to new experiences, and if he was correct, it would seem that she hadn’t been to the mortal realm many times at all. “Everything I do is for her.”

They walked on in silence for a moment, listening to the shouts from the next street over and ignoring the looks from the few mortals out and about as they turned into another street. Cassian was good at ignoring the looks. Most Seraphim were. The tension remained, though. At least, it stayed until she spoke.

“Everything I do is for Nereza.”

Cassian glanced at her, but the demon’s face was stoic, unmoving. She didn’t appear to be able to project her emotions yet. The Seraphim understood. He hadn’t been able to adapt at first either. Then again, he’d done a terrible wrong according to his people and had been banished from his home at a young age. That had been centuries ago, though. Parisa had found him not long after he was deemed Anathema. She granted him certain abilities in exchange for him becoming her champion, of sorts. Cassian never spoke of his history, though.

More silence as they turned down another street. Cassian didn’t mind the silence. It was better than the yelling and screaming. At least this city was mostly quiet. If tainted. Cassian remember the scene between Jakome and his cousin. He shuddered. Yes, definitely tainted. Maybe that was why Parisa had sent him here? Then again, maybe it wasn’t. The gods had many reasons for doing what they did. Cassian, though Seraphim, was still mortal and probably shouldn’t question the gods he prayed to. They were known for their anger. It was never a pretty thing to see.

“Where were we going again?” he asked, glancing towards the demon. She seemed to know more than he did after all. She glanced towards him, those yellow-amber eyes meeting his grey-blue ones. She blinked and looked away. Cassian frowned at her.

“This way,” she said and abruptly turned left. Cassian followed her without a word. Several minutes later, the pair stood before a large manor. Cassian gazed up at it while Catrina just stood there, watching the door. “Inside,” she added and approached the building. Cassian glanced at her and followed. She opened the door and stepped inside, the Seraphim close behind her. They were met by an angry looking young man with blue-ish hair. Catrina abruptly bowed. “Alt-ur. Parisa and Nereza sent us.” The man just gestured for them to continue on inside, moving past them to close the door. Cassian followed the pair into the house, a little confused. Now what had she gotten him into?

~-~-~

Alt-ur watched the pair before him closely, frowning. The woman had told him that two of his fellow gods had sent help. Nereza. She was a goddess of darkness, of evil. Why in all of Ga’hila would she be helping him? He was mercy, and evil didn’t know mercy, did it? And Parisa? She was a Seraphim goddess. Why would she help the humans? He frowned at the fair haired man with grey-blue eyes. The woman he had already pegged for a demon--one of Nereza’s creatures. But the man? He was probably Seraphim...and if he was, where the hell were his wings?

“Well?” he asked, crossing his arms as he watched the pair. The woman had already taken a seat but the man was still standing. He was looking around awkwardly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was meant to be doing. The woman blinked at him, and it was her who spoke first out of the two.

“Nereza sent me to help you,” she stated, flicking the man a glance. “Sit down, Cassian.” She didn’t even sound irritated, which Alt-ur was sure she was. Cassian spared the demon a glance before he perched awkwardly on the arm of her chair. “Parisa sent him to help. We’re supposed to help you rid this city of Jakome Haverj, king of Esharia.”

Alt-ur wasn’t sure what to say to that. He paced to the window and looked out, frowning. He paced back to stand in front of the pair. Footsteps on the wooden stairs brought his head around in time to see little Nisha come rushing into the room. She stopped abruptly at the sight of the two strangers.

“Ke skrse, mulea khere!” Alt-ur hissed, making the girl’s remaining eye go wide. She glanced between her big brother and the two strangers across from him. “Tsuea, Nisha.” She stayed where she was, gaze drifting towards the strangers again. Alt-ur’s gaze softened. “Nisha, tsuea mu ne uy kul saru.”

The demon was watching the little girl closely, something close to hunger in her gaze--if one dared to look. Cassian was looking from the girl to Alt-ur and back. He couldn’t quite understand what the god was saying. It was probably the only good thing about speaking Asyran. Not many spoke it anymore.

“Skee erz jea kel’naslu?” Alt-ur looked up, startled to hear someone else speak an almost dead language. The demon woman was watching him with those unnerving yellow-amber eyes of hers. The god stared at her in shock for a moment before he sighed and decided to answer her.

“Skeez skle ji muila,” he replied, scowling. “The father I’m not sure about.” He switched back to the common tongue, ignoring the look he got from the man, Cassian. Alt-ur turned and approached Nisha, leaning down to pick her up. She didn’t protest, her remaining eye focused on the strangers. “What are you helping me with?” he demanded, turning on the pair. Cassian flinched, but the demon woman just gazed back at him, unfazed.

“I already told you,” she said, leaning forward. Alt-ur gazed back, a slight frown marring his features. So she had. But still... Something about the entire thing felt off. “Now. Will you let us help or not?”

Alt-ur’s gaze narrowed. For a demon, she was pretty straight forward. Then again, most of her kind were. He sighed. “Fine. You may help, but first.” He held the girl to him, stroking a hand through her hair. “Your names and true selves.”

The pair exchanged a glance before the man, Cassian, stood up. “Cassian Van Alstyne,” he said, giving the god a little nod. “Seraphim. I serve Parisa.” He looked towards the woman, avoiding the suspicious glance Alt-ur sent him. So he was Seraphim. That still left the subject of where his wings were. Alt-ur would find out later.

“Catrina Kalani,” the she-demon announced. She didn’t move, just gazed up at Alt-ur. “Bajang demon. Servant of Nereza.” She tried to smile with warmth, but it only made her smile harsh and it didn’t reach her eyes. Alt-ur met her gaze head on, waiting until she looked away first. Even a god could get a demon to look away before they did. Then again, he was Mercy incarnate. Maybe she couldn’t handle what she saw there? Alt-ur didn’t mind.

"Alright then,” Alt-ur murmured, looking from the she-demon to the Seraphim and back. Now what was he going to do with them? It would have to wait until later. He had somewhere to be. Like the public torture event Jakome had planned for the day. Apparently that was set to start at midday. “Jakome has something planned for midday. Perhaps you can help. I believe he plans on publicly torturing Cóiseam today.”

~-~-~