Champions, The Citadel of Light: Chapter Two

Gibril

The flames were dark and deathly cold. Their icy tongues flickered against the tips of Gibril's wings and he drew them tighter against his back.

His wounded wing still hung halfway folded and dangling at an awkward angle. 

the freezing inferno died down seconds later, revealing to Gibril a vast sea of nothingness. There was no sign of life besides him and Cirus, who still had a tight grip on the back of Gibril's tunic. The landscape was nothing but a barren desert of grey dust. The sky was inky black, but neither moon nor stars glimmered in it. This was a place that had never been touched by any kind of warmth or light.

The Angel shivered.

Salheim. The land of the demons.

Cirus began to drag him through the ash colored sand, Blackshard bouncing against his hip. 

 Gibril's wounded wing left droplets of blood in its wake, its tip digging a small furrow in the sand.

Cirus glanced down at the Angel. His dark armor blended in perfectly with the dark scenery, the red spikes on the shoulders looking looking more like petrified stalagmites of blood in the eternal night.

Cirus smirked. "Try not to bleed on the cape, lad. It's nigh impossible to get those kinds of stains out."

they walked through the endless expanse of blackness for ages, the only sound in the oppressively silent land the sound of Gibril's body being dragged through the sand.

Gibril didn't know how long Cirus had been walking or how far he'd been dragged when a lighter grey shadow loomed in the ebony horizon.

Gibril swallowed dryly. He'd only ever heard about the Castle of Sins from old folk tales, and now here it was in front of him, huge and shapeless with foreboding towers spiking out at random points in it's hulking mass.

In front of what Gibril assumed to be the door, there stood a humanoid figure. Too small to be Asmodius or any of the other dark deities of this world, but just as imposing. Tall and well built with quartz white skin and pure black eyes and hair. Jutting from his head and curving into wicked points some three inches in the air, arched a pair of sleek black bull's horns.

"Cirus. I see you've brought the gift Asmodius asked for." The devil said in a voice of deadly silk. soft and smooth and cold.

the creature knelt down to where Gibril lay.

"Why, hello, Gibril. How nice to finally re-unite. I can't tell you how much it pleases me to see you in this state." The Demon grinned sadistically.

"You look terrible."

Gibril forced himself to look the Demon in the eye.

"I wouldn't be surprised that you enjoy the suffering of others." He spat at the devil's feet.

"Monster."

The Demon jumped up, pretending to look shocked. He put a hand over his heart. 

"Monster? Perhaps we haven't met, Angel. I'm Vrirares,"

Vrirares bowed elaborately, nearly missing Gibril's face with his horns. "Champion of Asmodius and prince of discord."

Vrirares's head snapped up and he gave Gibril a smug look. "Hel-loo-oo?"

From inside the castle, Gibril heard a voice, snide and full of malice, growl.

"Stop playing with my food, Vrirares."

Vrirares gave the castle a baleful look.

"Oh, just let me have a little fun with him, Lord Asmodius." Vrirares pleaded.

"You may have your fun later. Bring the Champion to me."

Cirus began dragging Gibril towards the castle's entrance.

"Oh, I'll have my fun." Vrirares muttered to Gibril.

"Providing the Sins don't decide to kill you right away."

.....

Asmodius was one of the largest Demons Gibril had ever seen. easily ten feet tall, not including the rams horns curling out of his skull. His skin was a pallid blue color, as if he had just been pulled from a freezing lake. 

He sat on a glided obsidian throne, his posture proud and straight and his furry goat's legs crossed daintily.

sitting in front of him in smaller but equally splendid thrones were the seven evil gods of Salheim.

The three male gods sat on the left hand side of Asmodius, the four goddesses on the right.

Vrirares dropped to one knee and Cirus did the same.

"Lord Asmodius." They said in unison. 

Asmodius gestured for them to rise and they did. "Welcome back, Cirus. I see you've brought back a souvenir."

Cirus grinned.

"Bring us the angel!" Barked one of the goddesses, broad and bearlike in appearance and completely clothed in red. "Let me get ahold of him! I'll tear out his insides--no! I'll pluck out all his feathers, one by one. Then I'll tear out his insides, and--" 

"Now, now, Lady Ira. Calm yourself. We still have to decide what to do with him." Asmodius chided.

He fixed his champions with a bored look. "Leave." He ordered. "There is nothing more I require of you."

Gibril saw the muscles in Vrirares's jaw tighten, but he turned and left with Cirus, humbly murmuring

"yes, Lord."

Asmodius beckoned forth a tiny, hunchbacked gremlin, and ordered him the chain Gibril to the floor. The gremlin grinned and snapped his fingers. Instantly Gibril's wrists and ankles became entrapped in several loops of chains.

"So." Began a huge god clad in orange and holding a large bowl of plums in his lap. The god popped a plum in his mouth and swallowed it pit and all, belching loudly. "You're the Angel champion. Shame 'bout the other one. Would've like to see 'im get skewered with my own eyes. Ah, well, s'long as I eat like a king, I'll have no misgivings!" The god seemed to find this uproariously funny and roared with laughter.

"Shut up, Gula you disgusting pervert!" bellowed the bearlike lady, Ira.

A handsome god looked up from a frivolous looking girl seated on his lap, whom he had been tickling under the chin.

"My dear Ira, I thought that was me." The god purred, smiling gently at the girl on his lap.

Ira shot from her throne, a vein popping in her forehead as she snarled at the handsome god.

Asmodious stamped a massive hoof on the ground.

"Lord Luxuria, Lady Ira, please. This is a formal meeting."

"Quite, quite, Lord Asmodius." Luxuria said, running his fingers through the girl's golden hair. 

"I would just like to point out, if I may speak freely, that the all-powerful Champion of the Angels doesn't look all too threatening. I am not impressed with Jerom's choice."

The girl blushed and whispered something into Luxuria's ear. 

"But of course, you are right, my dear. He isn't too shabby for looks."

A lovely goddess in a violet dress tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Of course, he's nothing compared to Superbia's level of perfection. No, Surperbia thinks not." She beamed self-righteously.

The goddess sitting next to her, a woman with a face like a fox and wearing all green, sniffed bitterly.

"Hrumph! But those wings are spectacular. He's only an Angel and he gets those beautiful wings! I'm a goddess, and what do I get?"

A man in a yellow suit snapped his fingers loudly.

"Not right now, Invidia! we are here to discuss what should be done with this champion. I say we ransom him off. You know how much I want--erm...we need--gold."

"Superbia disapproves." Superbia sniffed. "Avarita only wants things for him."

Avarita wrinkled his nose. "And I suppose you all have better ideas?"

"Dismember him alive!" Roared Ira.

"Then when you're done, I want his wings." Invidia said.

"No, no. I say we snap his wings and throw him from a cliff. How ironic it would be for and Angel to die falling." Luxuria suggested smoothly.

The Sins murmured in approval and Gibril began offering a silent prayed to his gods. 

Asmodius chuckled. "An amusing thought, Luxuria. If there isn't anyone apposed..."

A portly goddess clothed in a light blue nightgown who had been slumped snoring in her throne suddenly snapped awake.

"Whassat?" She mumbled blearily, blinking her bloodshot eyes. She looked around the room and her gaze fell on Gibril.

"Oh." She gave a huge yawn. "Have we started?"

"We were just deciding, Acedia. Luxuria proposes we break his wings and let him die falling. What say you?" Asmodious inquired formally.

Acedia rubbed her eyes with her fists. "All that work for only a few seconds of entertainment?" She pouted. "S'not worth waking up for. It'd be easier just to leave him alive as a prisoner."

"LEAVE HIM?!" Ira bellowed incredulously."And why on Salheim would we want to do that?!"

"Think, Ira. The Angel will die anyway without the light of his world, and at least this way we can watch him squirm before he does. Besides, our Champions would certainly want to have their share of fun with this one. It would be amusing to watch them torture him. And I won't have to listen to Vrirares's griping. Whenever he gets angry, it always messes with my sleep schedule."

The Sins all exchanged glances, conflicted as to which plan was better.

Gula was the first to speak up. "I'm all for a plan that involves entertainment without effort! I say yes."

Avarita shrugged. "You know how much I love seeing a good fight. As long as I'm there to witness whatever Cirus and Vrirares come up with, I say yes as well."

One by one, the Sins cast their vote that would decide Gibril's fate.

The only one opposed was Luxuria.

Gibril felt dizzy with relief. His gods had not abandoned him. He began quietly and fervently thanking the Virtues. 

"It's settled then." Asmodius decided. "The Champion will remain alive as our plaything--I mean, prisoner--until his death. Meeting adjourned." The Sins rose from their thrones and dispersed, and Asmodius summoned his Champions. They entered the chamber almost immediately after they were called. 

"I suppose your eavesdropping endeavors were rewarded?" Asmodious scowled. Cirus smirked. 

"Yes, Lord."

"Then you know what is to be done with this Angel.Take him to the dungeons. Vrirares, you'll have your playtime as I promised. I'm putting you and Cirus in charge of his...welfare."

Asmodius's sadistic smile sent shivers down Gibril's spine.

Cirus began undoing the chains around Gibril's legs while Vrirares fastened a leather belt around his chest, binding his wings to his back.

Gibril winced as Vrirares maliciously shoved his wounded wing against his back, tightening the belt until Gibril could scarcely breathe.

With his arms and legs free of the chains, the two dark Champions hauled Gibril to his feet and flanked him, each taking hold to either of his arms.

Gibril was marched deep into the castle. The halls twisted, turned and forked too many times for him to keep track of and soon he felt hopelessly lost.

The air grew colder as they traveled underground. on either side of Gibril, empty cells stood, looking like giant mouths, gaping open, waiting to swallow him whole. 

Gibril could barely tell if his eyes were open or closed when they finally stopped. Cirus flung open a cell door and Gibril was unceremoniously shoved in. he felt something cold and hard close around his wrists.

Shackles. 

The door clanged shut and he heard Cirus's snide voice, coated with artificial sweetness, as if speaking to a beloved pet, sing

"See you tomorrow, Gibril!"

Both of the boys scoffed and Gibril remained standing, glaring until the echoes of their footsteps died away.

it was only until he was sure the two Champions of Asmidius were gone that Gibril allowed a broken sob to escape his chest. He dropped to his knees as the full weight of the situation crashed down on him. Not only his own troubles, but what this sequence of events would mean for both worlds.

Carden, one of his greatest and most trusted friends, was dead. The Angels were left with a novice Champion with no experience and no idea what power she held. Asmodius and his Demons now not only had the advantage of numbers, but the significant leverage of not only one, but two battle seasoned and experienced Champions. And here he was, chained to a wall, doomed to spend the rest of what looked to be his very short life enduring Jerom knows what tortures Vrirares and the Sins would concoct for their own sick entertainment. Gibril suddenly felt exhausted. All he wanted now other than to die was to sleep. He closed his eyes, and he felt a warm tear streak down his cheek.

Gods save me. Gibril plead in vain, before giving in to the welcome peace of sleep.