Chapter 36: Woe

Perspective: Seyari

“Traitor!” I shouted at the surprised man behind his ornate desk.

My sword, alight with holy fire, pointed at his neck. Around my feet were the smoking remains of the door to Baron Haverly’s study. The small room was stuffed full of books organized haphazardly. I couldn’t get close to opening my wings in here, much to my discomfort.

“Surrender and I may spare you,” I spat.

Baron Haverly responded by raising a barrier of force across the room. Not that it would do him much good. I had been warned of the Baron’s surprising magical prowess, but I had yet to see it in action.

I had never intended to spare him. Sadly, he’d been smart enough to put that simple fact together.

I tensed my legs to jump toward the barrier, shield first. Feeling the air move, I instead leapt to the side at the last second. Behind me, a human in the outfit of a servant landed into a roll, twin daggers narrowly missing my back.

I’d seen this woman on the way in. Her aura wasn’t that of a mage, but she was clearly dangerous. For defending that man, she too would die.

Behind me, the Baron wasted air with some sort of taunt. I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to his exact words. I turned to the servant-turned-assassin who met my gaze with a neutral expression. Her posture betrayed nothing, but I sensed another shift in the air from behind me.

Reflexively, I dodged another human who looked just like the first. A twin? The two of them circled me and I took a defensive stance. My armor would mean little to their daggers. The sheaths must have blocked the weapons’ aura, for each blade lit up with magic. These assassins were simply another sign of the Baron’s guilt.

I pulled on my training to keep my mind clear and focused on my objective. I was here to cleanse human filth that consorted with demonic filth.

To my side, the Baron made a triumphant sound from behind his barrier. Did he really know so little of my power? Up until he had turned traitor, Baron Haverly had worked loosely with the Inquisition. His own son had even joined the order. He should know the only reason his entire estate wasn’t ash was because the Inquisition would have to clean up the fallout.

Baron Haverly’s son had been executed the night before, carried out by my hand. The entire family was rotten, and I would purge this household to the last were such decisive measures permitted.

I refused to be made a fool by humans. If I was to lend them my power, it would be on my own terms.

Wordlessly, I drew upon my vast reserves of mana. My entire body began to glow. The twins rushed me, but it was too late. A wave of holy light burst from all around me, burning the room to cinders.

Twin screams evidenced the twins’ demise.

When the light dimmed, two charred corpses lay in the destroyed room. I could see night clouds through the wrecked ceiling. I turned to the Baron’s half of the small study. I was impressed. His barrier had shattered under the force of my magic, but the room beyond was hardly scorched.

The man himself was singed and clearly mana exhausted. He’d probably burned all his power maintaining that pointless barrier. I strode confidently over to him.

He coughed and looked up at me, defiance in his eyes. “Funny how they can’t make a demon to control, but they can make a fine puppet out of an angel.”

He smiled and spat on my greaves. I cut his head off.

His sardonic smile stuck as the head rolled away, neck already cauterized. I was tempted to crush his skull out of spite, but I needed the proof of Haverly’s demise.

Since part of his study had survived, I took a moment to look for further evidence of his crimes. A false bottom in a locked desk drawer yielded a ledger. Additionally, a hidden safe in the floor had been exposed by my blast of holy magic.

I ripped the small, heavy, metal box from the floor and carried it out with me. The head I kept in a bag along with the ledger.

No one moved to stop me. The servants stared dumbstruck as I strode past. The report had indicated no one but the Baron himself and the son had been complicit in the betrayal. I doubted the veracity of that claim, but I would return if I found a single shred of evidence otherwise. Not like they could stop me.

A middle-aged woman in expensive night-clothes ran out of a room behind me. I tensed, but she turned and ran the back the way I had come, rather than confront me. I was walking out the door when the screaming started.

I took wing from the front of the estate and flew to a nearby copse, where I set down among the trees to look over what I had gathered. I had not been ordered to look for additional evidence. That fact made me almost rethink looking at the ledger and in the safe.

Almost.

The ledger was easy to cut open with a blade. Inside were financial records that I understood little of. The safe, however, held something much more important.

My hearing was sufficient such that listening for the tumblers was no issue. In only a few minutes I had gotten the safe open. I was tempted to try to cut through it with my magic, but holy magic was ill-suited to the task, I was tired, and any papers inside would be destroyed.

Indeed, the safe had an anti-tampering measure in place. By sheer luck, my spell earlier hadn’t tripped it and I was able to look at everything.

Money, a small painted portrait of the late Baron and his family, a broken amulet, more financial documents, and a small book were inside.

The broken amulet was familiar, though nearly half of it was missing. It took me a moment to place it, but I realized it was similar to the symbol Etanza had across her chest, though it was much simpler; just a starburst pattern and a simple vortex.

Demonic iconography. Nothing serious enough to warrant my involvement if that was the only thing. I turned to the book. My eyes’ glow lit the cover faintly. Simple leather with no markings. A journal, most likely.

Conjuring a small ball of light to read by, I leaned against a tree and opened the book. It was indeed a journal. I skimmed the early entries and started paying more attention to dates closer to the present, starting a year ago in AL 1322.

The entry dated to the winter solstice of AL 1322 took me by surprise. I’d been looking for what had caused the late Baron to turn away from Dhias. I’d found the account of how the broken demonic amulet came to be in Haverly’s possession, but what I’d read couldn’t possibly be correct.

The entry claimed Haverly had found the amulet in his son’s possessions when he had come home for the solstice. He questioned his son who denied all involvement at first. The amulet had been placed in the safe at that time.

Had his son been corrupted by demonic influence? The amulet perhaps? But if it was broken when the baron found it, any magic would surely have faded. If the baron’s son was corrupted, why would the amulet be broken?

Baron Haverly’s son hadn’t joined the order until several years after Etanza’s death. Any of her enchanted items would have been inert when he found them. He was absolutely clean of any corruption during his training. I’d trained him myself…

Against my judgment, I found myself back in the cell two weeks ago with Eric Haverly. He’d pled for his life and wept, raw and openly before I—

This had to be a mistake. Eric was corrupted! Influenced by an unknown demon! Mordwell had confirmed it! His aura had yet to be tainted, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t working with a demon. Just that he’d not…been…controlled.

I read ahead, rapidly flicking my eyes across the words that upended everything I knew to be true. Eric had confessed he’d found the broken amulet among another inquisitor’s belongings. The name wasn’t written down. Any artifacts of demonic origin were kept under heavy security while they awaited destruction.

This—this had to be wrong. A trick. A ploy.

In the next entry, Eric confessed to his father he suspected the Inquisition was hiding a dark secret.

I skipped ahead again, eyes dancing across the page even as I could feel my heart growing heavier. The past year, Eric Haverly and his father had investigated the Inquisition. They’d found little at first, but Eric had talked about areas off-limits to himself and the people coming and going. Mordwell’s name was among them.

Recently, Eric had found a pattern of likely-fake expenses, missions, and item requisitions that lined up. A partial copy had been transcribed in the journal. There had been a spate of activity twenty-five years ago. My heart clenched. Etanza’s origin was around that point in time.

I thought back to the Baron’s magic. He wasn’t tainted. Nothing in his estate had any signs of demonic influence, even at the end. I’d killed dozens of demons and slain hundreds of the corrupted.

If there was a demon involved, I had always seen clear evidence. But there had been several times without direct demon involvement. There had to be an explanation for those, right?

“You people made me what I am.”

“…too far gone.”

“…can’t make a demon to control…”

No. Nononono. Absolutely not!

I read frantically now. Behind me, my wings twitched uneasily. Eric had been due to return home in a month. Together, they would take their evidence to the Duke and the local Church authority.

I flipped the page and stared at blank off-white of the next one. This was the end of the journal. No dramatic cutoff. No ending.

That wasn’t true. I knew what the ending was. My shoulders slumped and I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding.

I stared at the heavy clouds above me. As if on cue, a peal of thunder sounded somewhere in the far distance and the skies opened up.

***

I shuddered and shook in Zarenna’s arms. Tonight’s sky wasn’t a rainstorm. I wasn’t alone in a copse of trees just outside the estate of an innocent family I’d killed and destroyed.

The stars were blurrier than they had been. My wings hurt; phantom pains from the long-lost limbs reminding me of my failures.

“At that time, I still couldn’t quite believe the Inquisition was trying to make demons and control them. I wanted so desperately to be wrong.” I tried to sigh but hiccupped instead. “I burned the journal, destroyed the amulet, and gathered evidence for two years.”

I turned to look at Zarenna. She had been staring at me with wet eyes and our gazes met. I tried to smile, but couldn’t seem to do it right.

“You didn’t kill all of the corrupt inquisitors, did you?” Zarenna’s question caught me off-guard.

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”

“I know,” Zarenna replied sadly.

My eyes went wide as dinner plates. I looked up at my friend and realization dawned on me.

“I’m sorry,” I offered meekly.

“Don’t—apology accepted. But you couldn’t have known. I couldn’t have known.” Zarenna hugged me closer. “How did you get your revenge?”

I took a breath, and told Zarenna the final part of the story.

***

There was no turning back now. The inquisition base I’d called home for so many years was more than a hundred kilometers behind me. My wings ached from the hard flight. The bodies I’d left behind wouldn’t even be cold yet.

Two years. I’d spent two years gathering information, and what I found was horrifying. The Inquisition was rotten to the core. Perhaps the rest of the Church, too, but I never found how much the people at the top knew.

I knew some people in the Inquisition were innocent. I’d been innocent once, too. Those I could trust; I’d told ahead of my plan. The others I’d tried to leave alive.

In the depths of the forest ahead of me, the Inquisition was attempting a ritual. All the top members would be there except the one I’d left dead behind me.

I’d nearly been caught twice. The things I’d had to do to ‘prove my conviction’ made my stomach turn. I was a monster.

The Inquisition wanted to create one they could control. Tonight, I would show them one they couldn’t.

I flew low and quiet, riding air currents and updrafts between the tops of the trees. The stars shone brightly above me. Ahead, I could see a column of smoke and the orange glow of a fire. There was an isolated village there this morning. There’d be nothing but ashes come tomorrow.

I drew closer. The orange glow suffused the horizon.

Soon, I could see the fire, the arranged bodies, the ritual circle etched in soot, and the Inquisitors performing the ritual. There were about forty, and they were all deep in focus. At the center, with another two people stood Mordwell.

I could kill him first, but I didn’t like my chances in the open. I also didn’t want to find out what would happen to me inside the active ritual.

I landed at speed, my blade beheading the Inquisitor next to me. I swathed through the assembled Inquisitors. Heads rolled and blood pooled on the hard-packed dirt. I wasn’t quiet, and the focus of the ritual broke before I was through a third of the assembled members.

The circle flared unevenly. I jumped backwards with a flap of my wings. The magic of the ritual came unbound an instant later. I shielded myself with my holy magic. The screams were horrifying.

I channeled my wind to blow the smoke over the center of the ritual and dove into the stunned outer members.

I recognized faces. People I had once called friends. Confidants. Allies.

They died all the same. There was surprise, fury, sadness, and even some few faces in which I saw only regret.

I barely had time to dodge the first counterattack.

A lance of stone shot through the clearing smoke and nearly pierced my wing. Mordwell would have to do better than his training to stop me now.

I had to turn my focus away from the few stragglers in the outer ring. Mordwell stood in the center at one flank of the head Inquisitor. The only name I knew that man by was Vinzent. The other was a woman I did not know.

The battle was brutal, and quick. The unknown woman was able to hold off my radiant attacks. Mordwell kept me in the air, and Vinzent threw bolts of lightning. I was barely able to stay alive, let alone counterattack.

The remaining outer members threw their own magic at me. Most died for their attempts.

As I flew and sliced at my foes with blades of wind, I felt something try to enter my mind. The woman was too focused on defending, and Mordwell was too enraged.

Vinzent’s attacks had been less focused. The presence had to be him.

I focused on my rage and forced the presence back. For a moment it worked, then it pushed back with redoubled effort.

‘Traitor!’

I am.

The presence reeled but struck out again. Vinzent stumbled, but his cold eyes locked onto mine.

‘Submit.’

No.

I held, but like a wall starting to crack I could barely hold him away. I faltered.

A spike of earth dented my chest plate. A second shattered the bones in my leg. A bolt of lightning froze my wings. I fell toward the spiked earth below.

‘You are no angel.’

I agreed.

But that didn’t mean I would go without taking them with me.

I pulled on all my mana at once. My magic surged into and through me. I fell into the spikes, and could feel them pierce my armor and my body in half a dozen places.

My power kept me alive. I looked up, a glow lighting the clearing before me.

For the first time, I saw fear in Vinzent’s eyes.

I spoke the only word I’d said that night.

“Die.”

I let my power explode. The world went gold. Something inside me shattered. I heard the start of three screams. And then I blacked out.

I came to moments later. Agony. All I could feel was agony that seemed to extend deeper than my body. Around me were two charred skeletons and a blackened and cracked wall of earth.

The spikes under me had crumbled. I crawled toward the wall. If Mordwell had survived, I would have to finish him myself. In the moment, I didn’t care whether that would be possible. I hadn’t intended to survive the night.

Moving was agony. My feathers, charred and twisted, fell to the blackened earth around me.

I reached the wall. There was no body behind it. Footprints in the ash led to the south. I looked at the dark forest with blurry eyes.

Mordwell had escaped. My task wasn’t done.

Mordwell would be back to check if I lived. I had to admit I could not fight him, broken and twisted as I was. I needed to leave. I needed to recover and wait. I would come for him again someday.

I turned painfully toward the northern forest, away from where Mordwell and any survivors would have run.

***

After I finished, Zarenna was quiet. She held me gently.

Eventually, she spoke. “How did you get away?”

I dredged up the memory. “I don’t know. I dragged myself into the forest and hid for months while I healed slowly.”

“Do you know what happened to your angelic half?”

I shook my head. “Not exactly. Whatever I did at the end broke or sealed something. It was only a few years ago when I felt that start to heal.”

“I’m sorry,” Zarenna said quietly.

“Don’t be,” I replied. “I—Yothariel was a monster.”

Zarenna thought for a moment. “Maybe she was. But you, Seyari, are not.”

I looked up at the demon next to me. I saw nothing but compassion in her toothy smile.

I felt a weight off my shoulders. I carried so much, but the load was lighter now. I cried. I sobbed and heaved until I ran out of tears. Zarenna held me the whole time.

When I finished, I looked up at her through blurry eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Zarenna nodded. Then she continued, “do you mind if I ask you a question?”

I shook my head.

“Did you know anyone in the Inquisition named Finley?” Zarenna asked softly.

I was about to shake my head, but the name was familiar. I looked up in shock, then anger. “Yes, actually. Inquisitor Finley was among the youngest members of the cult,” I replied. “You’ve met him, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I have.” Zarenna’s tail tensed around us.

“Did he?”

“Not him personally, but his hired thugs did.”

“If only I’d been stronger…”

“Don’t say that,” Zarenna retorted sharply.

“Huh?”

“From what you’ve told me, it was a miracle you survived.”

“But I failed. I failed to see I was a puppet. I failed to stop my puppeteers.”

“But there’s two of us this time.”

I looked up and this time, Zarenna’s smile gave me a full-body shiver. The feeling was gone as soon as it came and my demon’s eyes softened.

“I’m not what I used to be.” I reached behind me and felt the old scars on my back.

“Neither am I.” Zarenna gave me a ‘light’ squeeze. “We’ll kill Mordwell for you and we’ll kill Finley for me.”

“I’m damn well going to try at least.” I found a hand to shake. “Deal.”

Zarenna looked at my back. “Can I ask you something?”

I knew where this was going, but saw no reason to hide anything. “I cut them off in penitence. I’ll never know how many innocent people I killed, but I didn’t deserve to be an angel any longer.”

Zarenna thought for a moment. “If you think you deserve to be an angel again, can you get them back?”

I hated to ruin the hopeful look in Zarenna’s eyes.

I shook my head. “No.”