Ragged Magic - Chapter 1

Hello lovelies! Finally, some prose from Scarli~ Sorry about the length, guys. I know it's long, but yeah. Feel free to read and review. Constructive crit is welcome! Enjoy! The rating is just in case.

Chapter 1

Tiamat leaned over the Pool of Sight in the Palace of the Gods. She was in the Realm of the Gods, watching her mortals in the pool. She was concerned. Very concerned. Her mortals, her creations were suffering. And it was all at the hands of a mortal named Jakome. Tiamat frowned at what she was seeing. A new-found city named Arik had been attacked. Three Immortals, mortals granted eternal life by her and her fellow gods, were being held and tortured by Jakome, King of Esharia. Tiamat disapproved of that kind of behaviour. No one hurt her Immortals. She passed a hand over the water with a sigh and sat back, eyes on the water as it returned to a clear pale blue.

“Mother.” Tiamat looked up at the sound a soft, masculine voice. She smiled at the young man with blue-purple hair and golden-brown eyes. He gave her a sad smile. “Were you watching the mortals again?” he asked, joining her at the pool.

“I was, Alt-ur,” she murmured, taking his hand in both of hers. He stood still, watching her face as Tiamat brought his hand up to her lips and pressed them against his palm. “Would you go to the mortal realm, to Arik and check on the mortals and Immortals there?”

Alt-ur smiled softly, cupping Tiamat’s cheek with his free hand. “I will, Mother,” he whispered, bringing her head up so he could press a chaste kiss to Tiamat’s forehead. “I will go. I have mortals and Immortals of my own in the city.” He withdrew and smiled again. “I won’t fail you, Mother.”

With that, she let him go, and he gave her a bow, sliding his own hand away from her cheek. The goddess smiled and turned back to the pool, letting Alt-ur vanish into the shadows that surrounded her little circle of brightness. He would check on the people, and he would help as much as he could. After all, her Alt-ur was the God of Mercy. Then he would return here. She couldn’t leave the Realm of the Gods without destroying Curuwen and the many kingdoms that surrounded it. The Mortal Realm was stable....as long as she stayed out of it. That didn’t stop the other gods and goddesses from visiting, though.

While Tiamat stay by the Pool of Sight, Alt-ur let her be and travelled to the Mortal Realm. He had found his way into the city, disguised as a young boy, barely into his teens with a long braid of dark blue-purple hair that looked almost black, and he was now taking a look around. The city was a mess, the streets filled with bloodied and beaten people. Alt-ur was saddened by the sight. The urge to show mercy was strong. He would do so, as soon as he found out what had happened to the people. He knew it was Jakome, a man that Tiamat refused to talk about. He didn’t know why, but he was going to find out. If only to put Her mind at peace.

A little girl leaned against her dead mother, one hand over her right eye and the other clutching her mother’s hair. Alt-ur froze at the sight. That was wrong. No man should ever do that to a child. He shook his head and approached the girl, crouching down when he reached her and closing the mother’s eyes. She was at rest, peaceful in the life beyond mortal life. Tiamat would see to that.

“Hello,” he said, looking up at the girl. She stared back at him with one eye and he smiled slightly, reaching up to tug her hand away from that right eye. “It’s alright,” he added, taking her hand into his as he studied the girl’s face. Someone had taken a blade to the girl’s eye and cut it out. Anger stirred in Alt-ur. How dare someone do that to one of his children! He would make sure Nazar punished them. “I’ll fix it,” he murmured, covering her eye with his free hand.

Warmth flooded his veins and flowed into the girl. She gasped and her good eye fluttered closed. Alt-ur gave her a small smile and withdrew his hand. He stood and picked the girl up. She yelped and called for her mother but he turned her face towards his. She was crying. But the tears only fell from one eye; her good one.

“I’m sorry, ke skrse,” Alt-ur whispered, tucking her head under his child. “Mama has gone to a better place, I promise you this, skrse.” The little girl whimpered. Her eye looked better; he couldn’t replace it, but he could heal the wound. Now it looked like an empty eye socket. “I can be your brother, though. What’s your name?”

“Nisha,” she whispered, winding her little hands into his shirt. “Nisha Oulam.”

Alt-ur held her closer. She couldn’t be much more than five or six. He stood, the girl still in his arms and started down the street after giving the girl’s mother another glance. Poor woman. He didn’t doubt that this was Jakome’s fault. “My name is Alric, Nisha.” He pressed a kiss to the girl’s temple. “Let’s go find a home, huh?”

The little girl didn’t reply so he kept walking. And he watched the others still out on the streets. Most had crawled into a corner or some out of the place way and were laying there, mostly unmoving. It made his heart hurt to see so much pain and suffering. He would deal with it later, when he set up a home and found a few people to help him. He knew there were children of his in this city, and children of the other gods and goddesses. Mortals who were partly immortal.

~-~-~

Alt-ur, in his human guise, stood at a window, staring out. The little girl, Nisha, lay behind him on a chaise lounge. She was asleep and hadn’t moved for a while now. He didn’t mind. He was busy trying to ignore the pleas for mercy from the rest of the city, and they were many. It was hard not to listen to them, but he knew he would get to them eventually.

Behind him, the girl stirred. “Alric?” He turned when she spoke. Nisha had sounded so scared, and it called to him. She had to be one of his children. Perhaps a grandchild or great grandchild? He didn’t know, nor was he sure, but he would find out eventually. He hadn’t known her mother when he found her. “Alric, where are we?”

Alt-ur sighed and went to the girl, kneeling beside the lounge. “I found an empty house on the far side of the city.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes. “We’ll be safe here.” The girl frowned at him. They exchanged a long look before she pushed him away.

“You’re not Alric,” she stated, scrunching up her face at him. Tears glistened in the corners of her eye. Alt-ur pulled back, startled. He’d let his mortal child facade drop and had forgotten to re-don it when the girl awoke.

“Yes, I am,” he said softly. He sat back on his heel, a small smile gracing his face. “My real name is At-ur, though. I’m still Alric, but I’m just more than that mortal face.” Nisha’s undamaged eye went wide as she stared at him, all thought of tears gone.

“You’re a god?” she whispered. Alt-ur nodded. “You’re the god of mercy?”

He chuckled. “Yes, Nisha,” he replied. “That’s me.” He moved to sit beside her on the lounge. “Do you feel better now? I’m not such a stranger after all, am I?” Nisha giggled before a thoughtful look took over her remaining eye.

“I was praying for your help earlier,” she began, still thoughtful. She looked up and met his eyes with her one. “Did you hear me? Is that why you helped?”

Alt-ur hesitated. That was partly why he helped her...but something else had drawn him to her. “Partly,” he said slowly, “yes. And also partly because you feel different than the other mortals.”

“Different?” she asked, pouting. Alt-ur couldn’t help but to chuckle at that look. “Different how?” She gave him a pleading look, as if to say ‘I’m not that different, am I?’ Alt-ur smiled softly at her.

“You don’t feel completely mortal, Nisha.” He gently pulled her into his arms. “In fact, I would say you’re at least a granddaughter of mine.” Nisha burrowed into his chest, hands gripping his shirt tightly. He kept smiling. Children were so adorable sometimes.

“Am I really?” she whispered into his chest. Alt-ur heard the muffled words clearly, though. He didn’t react for a moment, content to just hold her for the moment.

Finally, he spoke. “I’m sure you are, ke skrse.”

~-~-~

Lorelei Toril peeked around the corner, pushing her brother back against the wall. The Tyrant’s men had marched past already, but there was still a possibility of there being a few left behind. To look for them. Lorelei knew that, but apparently, her brother didn’t.

“Leilei,” he muttered, pushing at her. “Let me go! They’re gone. Why can’t we move now?”

Lorelei sighed and turned to her brother, abandoning her lookout post. “Alois,” she hissed. “Now is not the time to start complaining! We’re not nobles anymore, remember?” Alois pouted, giving her a watery look. Lorelei rolled her eyes. Her brother could be so dense sometimes. It was getting old, and making her cranky. “Besides,” she added, pushing away from the wall and turning to drag her brother deeper into the alley. “We’re supposed to be dead. If we’re found, Levon will freak out.”

Little Alois sighed, letting his sister drag him to the far end of the alley and into the hole in the wall. A hole that led down. Alois didn’t like having to go down. Down meant the city’s sewers, and they weren’t clean at all. He pouted, making a face at the disgusting...whatever-it-was clinging to the side of the tunnel.

“Why do we have to go back into the sewers?” he complained, clinging to his sister's hand as they followed the tunnel, Lorelei half-crouching to get through. “They’re filthy and disgusting...and definitely not fit for former nobles.”

Lorelei shot him a dark look, clearly telling him to shut up before they met up with Levon again. The Immortal was lucky he could even escape the city’s palace dungeons. Alois abruptly shut up and followed his sister, momentarily cowed. Levon was waiting for them when they entered the main room. He smiled as they approached.

“What did you find out?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair. For the moment, the Immortal couldn’t walk and was therefore stuck in the chair at the head of the table. Lorelei and Alois had been worried at first, but he had soon assured them that he would be fine. Eventually. Lorelei pushed her brother towards the other chair and moved to stand before Levon. She crossed her arms and stared at the Immortal, gaze narrowed.

“Jakome has soldiers everywhere,” she said, flicking her gaze towards her brother. “Looking for us, I assume.” She took a deep breath and moved to sit on the arm of her brother’s chair. “As for the people? There are bodies everywhere. And anyone still alive is in hiding, much like we are. Unless they’re bribing the soldiers or something.”

She didn’t want to think too hard on that. Her Father was bribing the soldiers with her mother. It had almost been her and Alois as well before she took her brother and ran for it. The soldiers were still looking for them. Lorelei wasn’t surprised. Apparently Jakome had a liking for the younger ones. And she wasn’t going to let that man get his hands on her or her brother. She could only imagine the things he’d do to them and the state they would end up in. Dead in the end, but not before he broke them. Lorelei didn’t want to be broken, and she wasn’t going to let her brother be broken either.

“Ah,” he said and leaned back in his seat, hands steepled in front of him as he watched the pair. “That.” He glanced away and dropped his hands apart, resting them on the arms of the chair. “Any rumours of the gods coming to help?”

Lorelei shook her head and Levon sighed. He would have no support from them, then. Perhaps the gods had forsaken their mortals? He may never find out. For now, though, he could help these children. Alois and Lorelei was watching him when he looked him. Alois smiled, but Lorelei gave him a wary look. He supposed he deserved that. After all, he was being very secretive and whatnot.

“There is a house on the far side of the city,” he began slowly. “I feel...something there. It could be another Immortal.” He nodded to the two children before him, even though Lorelei could hardly be called a child now. “I want you two to take a look. If it is an Immortal, come back here and let me know, would you?”

Lorelei just nodded, slipping off the chair arm. She shot her brother a look and he quickly followed her. The pair moved towards a tunnel that led off to Levon’s right. He watched them as Lorelei vanished into the tunnel, quickly followed by her brother. That left him with his thoughts. And they were not good thoughts, either.

~-~-~

Alois frowned at his sister as she leaned against the wall, observing the house from a distance. From his seat on the waist-high brick wall nearby, he could only see in the window on the ground floor, but he had seen a man standing in the window on the next floor up. Alois knew his sister had seen it too. Lorelei just didn’t share this with him. Alois was sure of that.

“Lorelei,” he hissed. “Did you see--?”

“Yes, Alois,” she snapped, shooting him a glare. “I saw him.” Alois glared at her, and she at him. Their staring contest lasted for several moments before the sound of a door opening pulled their attention to the house they had been watching. The man they’d seen in the window now stood in the doorway, a little girl on his hip. Lorelei and Alois openly stared at him.

“Why don’t you two come on in?” he called, stepping back from the doorway. Lorelei and Alois continued to stare at him before the boy glanced towards his sister. They shared a look and Alois ran for the house, ignoring his sister shouting for him to stop. “Aren’t you coming in, too, Lorelei?” he asked as Alois raced past him. She stared at him, wary.

“Who are you?” she demanded, not moving from her spot by the wall. The man watched her, holding the girl close to him. Lorelei’s gaze flickered to her and then back to the man. He smiled.

“You may call me Alric.” Lorelei’s gaze narrowed. She didn’t move and the man sighed. “I am not a threat to you, mortal. Now come inside.” Lorelei took a cautious step forward. Alric moved into the house, his attention on the little girl in his arms. With a sigh, Lorelei swiftly crossed the street and entered the house, closing the door behind her. Alric had called her a mortal.

“Why did you call me mortal?” she asked, following the man as he led her deeper into the house. The little girl glanced towards her and Lorelei caught sight of her face. She froze. The girl was missing an eye. An eye. That image unnerved Lorelei more than the man calling her mortal.

“Because I am not mortal,” Alric stated and stopped, glancing back at her. “Is there something wrong?” he asked when he noticed that the girl had stopped moving and was staring at him--or more likely, at his little friend.

“She’s missing one eye,” Lorelei whispered, still staring at the little girl.

“Yes, she is,” Alric said, quite calmly. “And her name is Nisha. Please stop staring. You’re starting to scare her.” He pulled the girl around into his arms, pressing her face to his chest. Alric pressed a kiss to the girl’s hair, whispering, “Don’t let people think you’re not beautiful, because you are, Nisha. Even with an eye missing.”

Lorelei shook her head, forcing her feet to move. So he had a little girl who was missing an eye. It wasn’t like that was a crime. She just hadn’t seen something like that before. And she probably wouldn’t see anything like it again. Alric turned away and headed off down the hall again, still talking to the girl. Lorelei couldn’t understand what he was saying. She didn’t speak...whatever it was he was speaking.

“Ka tsu ewan-su ni khere wa koa, ke skrse,” he murmured. Lorelei blinked. It was a different language, one she didn’t know, but for some reason, that phrase...it almost made her think of a lullaby. “Sah jal emau, Nisha. Ka zne kere.” Frowning, Lorelei followed him into the kitchen, still unsure of what he was saying to the little girl.

~-~-~

Lujayn Zilar stood at the window of a Prophecies temple in Arik, watching the guards beat the people into submission. Behind her, she could feel her lover hovering. The Immortal was annoying sometimes, but she would put up with him for now. Karvan was useful. Sometimes.

“Lujayn, how fares the invasion?”

She turned away from the window, eyes narrowed. He just smiled at her.  Lujayn stalked away from the window and over to her lover. The man did not move or flinch as she approached. There was something she could say about immortals, and it was that they didn’t fear her. It was infuriating.

“Jakome is handling it fine, Karvan,” she snapped, brushing past him. “Now come. We’ve an annoying mortal king to see.” Karvan followed her as she swept from the room, white robes flaring out behind her. Lujayn didn’t appear to care or notice that Karvan was following her at a slower pace than normal. The pair swept out into the main area of the temple to find Jakome sitting on Lujayn’s altar. “Get off that!” she growled, coming to a stop before him. Jakome just looked at her.

“How is the search for that so-called Resistance?”

Lujayn glared at him until he sighed and slid off the altar. Now that he was off it, she smirked. “Karvan is on it,” she said, sparing the man in question a glance. “Aren’t you, darling?” Karvan nodded and headed for the door. The Priestess and the King didn’t appear to notice. “Now,” Lujayn began as her lover disappeared out the door and onto the street. “What was it you were looking for?”

Jakome smirked. “I want to know where the heir to the Ansharian throne is.”

Lujayn’s smirk turned into a grin. She moved to his side and slid an arm through his. “I can help you with that. But it won’t come cheap.” She led Jakome into the Inner Sanctum.

“I didn’t think it would,” Jakome replied, eyes on the silver-haired woman as they walked. “What do you want?”

Lujayn seemed to consider the question for a moment before she smiled up a Jakome, caressing his arm. “I want you to find a lost little ex-priestess of mine. I believe her name is Cyanea. “ Lujayn paused for dramatic effect, suddenly smirking again. “And I’m told she’s currently in this city.”

Jakome smirked and let Lujayn sit him down on her throne. “I think I can do something about that.”

~-~-~

Cóiseam Dylis gazed up at the barred window across from him. Moonlight flittered down through the bars, turning the dark stone before him a soft blue-grey. Where was his Nitya? He hoped she’d escaped before that man had taken their city. He really hoped his lover was safe. If she wasn’t... Cóiseam wasn’t sure what he’d do.

Chains rattled as someone else in the dungeon moved. Cóiseam barely moved as a man came into view. He barely even registered the man crouching before him and turning his head from side to side. He barely felt the slap the man dealt him or the hand on his chest.

“Cóis? Are you awake?” That voice made him blink, made him focus on the man before him. Dark hair, amber eyes. Cóiseam knew this man. He tried to focus on him, past the blinding pain in his temple and the ache in his ribs. It felt like one of his legs may have been broken. Still, he knew the face hovering before him.

“Ramiel?” he asked, voice slurring. The amber eyes vanished for a second as the other man blinked. Cóis struggled to sit up more, frowning and letting out a little yelp as movement caused his wounds to pull and tear, his leg and ribs to ache. The pounding in his temple increased slightly. “Ouch... I hurt all over...” Even in places I thought I would never hurt. Cóiseam didn’t want to think about that too hard.

“Oh, thanks the gods,” murmured the other man. “I thought you were dead for a moment.” He sighed and took Cóiseam’s head into his hands. “What happened? What did he do to you?” Ramiel blinked. “You’re not broken yet. That’s good.”

“Ramiel?” he asked again, staring up at the amber-eyed man. “What are you doing here?” He looked around, panicked, unable to move his head since it was in Ramiel’s hands. “You...you have to leave before he comes back!”

“Cóiseam! Calm down!” Ramiel hissed, pulling the other man’s head back around. “I’m trying to get you out of here, but it’s difficult. Jakome has his dirty claws into almost every nook and cranny in this city.” He pulled back, glancing down the corridor. “Cóis, I have to go now... That general of his is coming.” Ramiel pulled away, letting Cóiseam fall back against the wall, chains rattling loudly in the quiet dungeon. “I’ll be back for you, Cóis. I promise.”

With that, the amber-eyed man disappeared, leaving Cóiseam alone in the dark. The silver-eyed Immortal waiting, wincing in pain, as the mortal approached. He knew why the general was coming. Jakome wanted him, and he wanted him in his rooms. Cóiseam was not looking forward to the rest of this night. He was unaware of the fact that Jakome was not in his rooms yet.

~-~-~

Jakome left Lujayn in her throne room, straightening out his clothes as the door shut softly behind him. He smiled to himself, setting off towards the dark hall to his right. He turned down the hall, fingering the knife at his side. He had an immortal back in his rooms. An Immortal he could torture to death. They didn’t die. They just regained life a few minutes later. Sometimes it took longer, sometimes not. Once, it had taken up to two hours for the silver-eyed immortal to live again. Jakome had enjoyed taking advantage of the dead/unconscious man.

The halls of the temple were quiet as Jakome made his way back through the labyrinth of corridors to his room. He pushed the door open, gaze on the man who had been dumped on his bed. He stepped into the room, not bothering to keep quiet. He wanted Cóiseam to know he was here. Jakome pushed the door shut with enough force to make the sound echo. This time, the man flinched.

“Ah,” Jakome purred as he stalked forward, towards the bed. “You are awake. I was afraid I would have to wake you up the hard way.” Cóiseam didn’t appear to have heard him. Jakome put a knee up on the bed, beside the semi-conscious Cóiseam. He leaned down and put his lips by the Immortal’s ear. “Hello, Cóiseam. Are you ignoring me?”

Cóiseam shuddered as Jakome started tracing random patterns down the Immortal’s arm. “Leave me alone,” Cóiseam whispered. Jakome withdrew his hand, smirking. “Aren’t you done with me yet?”

“Now, now, Cóiseam,” Jakome chided. “You know I’m far from done with you. Now, why don’t you be a good boy and---”

“Where is Nitya?” the silver-eyed man demanded, awkwardly pushing himself up onto his elbows. The guards had left him unbound. Unfortunately the pain was more than enough to keep him mostly immobile. And given the fact that his left leg was, indeed, broken... Yeah,  Cóiseam wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Jakome stared at him, his expression blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cóiseam,” the mortal said, tilting his head to one side as he studied the other man. A man who could not die. Cóiseam only glared at him, but it was weak, a testament to how much pain the Immortal was in. Jakome liked to say that pain made one human. “Now, Cóis, let’s play.” The Immortal grimaced and looked away. Jakome just smiled.

~-~-~

Ramiel sat on a rooftop near the temple. He could hear someone screaming and did not want to put a name to the screams. Pitch black wings snapped out behind him. He didn’t like letting one of his Immortals stay in Jakome’s hands. The mortal was one of the worst he had seen in a very long time. Not including Jarom, the now-dead king of Melnar. Ramiel was glad that more-than-mortal man was now gone. He’d been nothing but a thorn in the god’s side since his beginnings.

“Jakome seems to be heading in the same direction,” he murmured as the fluttering of wings settled beside him. He glanced to his left to find his lover and sister, Parisa, perched beside him. “Do you not agree?”

Parisa kept her eyes on the temple as she replied, “If he does not stop his harming of the Immortals, he may become more than human.” She glanced towards her brother. “If he eats Immortal flesh or drinks Immortal blood, he may become that which he feeds on.”

Ramiel and Parisa stared at each other for a long moment--until the screams died down and the temple became silent. Ramiel looked away first, gaze lingering on his sister’s beautiful blue wings. They fell silent as they watched the temple. For several moments longer, it was quiet. But then the screaming started again. Ramiel turned his face away. He had had enough.

“Ramiel.” He glanced towards his sister. Her gold eyes rested on him for a long moment. “You care for the Immortal in his hands?” The amber-eyed god closed his eyes, avoiding the cold, unnerving gaze of his lover.

“Yes,” he whispered. “He is one I made, many years ago.”

Parisa’s gaze softened, unseen by her brother. “You care for him very much.” Ramiel did not reply to that statement. She placed a hand on his arm. “We will save him, Brother. Do not fear.” Ramiel nodded, going still when he felt Parisa’s wing brush against his. Impossible not for it to happen, they were sitting that close. His eyes shot open to study the female Seraphim.

“Parisa?” he asked in confusion. She simply smiled at him. The moment seemed suspended in time for a second before a scream split the air and disrupted it. Ramiel sighed and tore his gaze from Parisa’s only to have it drift back fairly quickly.

“Shall we?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. Ramiel knew that sign. He nodded, and together the pair straightened up before launching themselves off the rooftop, sweeping low over the courtyard before rising into the air. They disappeared into the night. If one had been watching, they may have seen the flaw of blue-black light as it split the sky. But none were watching. They were hiding from the tyrant who had taken over their city.

~-~-~

Alt-ur smiled down at the now-sleeping little girl. He brushed her beautiful black curls away from her face, gaze skimming over the empty eye-socket. He sighed and brushed the hair back over it. He hadn’t been about to give her a new eye, but she would live now and she had him as a brother. Maybe, when she was a little older, he would let her die and give her a new eye before he made her Immortal? At least, it was an idea he would put away for later.

“Alt-ur?” He looked up to find Alois in the doorway, rubbing at his eyes. It was rather late for the mortals, wasn’t it? He stood, pulling a blanket over the little girl and approached the boy.

“Is there something wrong, Alois?” he asked, gently nudging the boy out of the doorway and into the hall. The boy pushed Alt-ur hand away, muttering under his breath. Alt-ur chuckled, gently closing the door and heading off down the hall. Alois followed him. Just as the god knew he would. “Did you want to talk to me?”

“Lorelei’s in the attic room,” Alois mumbled, kicking at the floor as he walked. “Told me to go find my own room....but I'm scared.” Alt-ur raised an eyebrow at the boy, but Alois didn’t see it. “I don’t want to be alone. I’m worried that Jakome’s men will come for me again.”

Alt-ur sighed, pausing to study the boy. He really did look scared. The god half-crouched before him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Alois looked up, eyes wide. “You’ll be fine. Jakome doesn’t know you’re here, with me, does he?” Alois shook his head. “See? Nothing to worry about. Besides, I am a god. Mercy or not, I’m not afraid to stand up to a mortal man, no matter how cruel they are.” He straightened up, hand still on Alois’ shoulder. “Now, let’s find you a room, shall we?”

Alois smiled up at Alt-ur as the god led them off down the hall again. The god was frowning, though. What had the boy so scared of Jakome? Scared enough that he didn’t like the idea of being alone? Alt-ur thoguht he might know; he just didn’t want to acknowledge it. And he wouldn’t blame anyone else for not wanting to look too closely, either. The things Jakome did were not something to laugh about. The mortal king’s actions and words only brought terror and sorrow. Alt-ur understood those two emotions far too well.

~-~-~

Sunlight streamed in through the barred window, rousing Cóiseam from his dreams. Dreams? They were more like nightmares. And they didn’t go away when he woke up. He winced, shifting slightly and cursing as his still-healing broken leg was jostled. It felt like Jakome had broken more ribs. On purpose. And he’d enjoyed it, too. Cóis closed his eyes, tilting his head back to rest against the damp stone walls. It was always damp in the dungeons. He hated it. Hated the damp and the cold.

Footsteps brought Cóiseam’s head up and eyes flying open. Another day hadn’t passed already, had it? No, it hadn’t. Sunlight was still streaming in through he barred window across from him. Cóiseam could see feet passing by and a little boy poked his head down to look in the window. Cóiseam pretended not to notice and the boy disappeared. The footsteps were still there.

Cóiseam squinted as a figure appeared out of the gloom and stepped into his little arch of sunlight. He didn’t know this woman. She seemed to be staring at him. With yellow-amber eyes. He took note of the pitch black hair and frowned. Was Ramiel visiting him in disguise now? No, no. That look on her face wasn’t a familiar one. She stepped forward and dropped into a crouch. It looked fairly inhuman. Cóiseam’s frown deepened.

“Who are you?” he asked, watching the woman as she watched him. She didn’t smile or smirk or anything. She just crouched there, watching him. After a long moment, she leaned forwards, putting her lips by his ear.

“My name is Catrina Kalani,” she whispered, pulling back. “I’m not human, but then. Neither are you.” She smiled slightly, just a little tilt of her lips. Cóiseam kept staring at her. What did she mean by calling herself not human? Did that mean that she was also Immortal? Or was she something else entirely? “I’m here to deliver a message to you.” She rose from her crouch and backed up a step. “The dark one has chosen you. She is coming, soon.”

The message given, she turned and started to walk away. Cóiseam struggled to sit up more, staring after her. “Wait!” he called, coughing. Catrina paused, glancing back at him. His coughing subsided enough for him to speak again. “What are you? You said you’re not human. What did you mean by that?”

Catrina shot him an annoyed glare. “Shouldn’t even an Immortal know not to ask a demon what she is?” she countered, sniffing as if insulted. Cóiseam blinked at her, not quite know what to say to the demon comment. “Goodbye, Cóiseam Dylis. She’s coming for you.” She turned away, calling over her shoulder, “Until we meet again, my Immortal friend.”

With that, she vanished into the darkness, her footsteps fading away into nothing. Cóiseam fell back against the wall, confused. What in all of Ga’hila did she mean by demon? Something told him that he might not want to find out.

~-~-~