Demi-Sin of Deceit: Part Two
Lucifer

Lucifer

Destiny had kept Ordeallan in surprising order, and just as surprising surveillance, a fact that we discovered when, upon arriving at the front gate, we were asked by the soldiers there to show some form of ID. It could be anything- a scroll with a signature, a drawing of us, even a crown, but as it just so happened, we had nothing.

I hadn’t bothered to wear a crown since our escape from Tarvenia, and the only thing I had on me was my engagement band to Tatiana, which proved nothing according to the Guards.

Ash, Jane, Syrphien and Tiskial didn’t have any ID either, since fleeing from the Tarvenia Palace meant almost everything that wasn’t deemed overly important had been left behind.

After an hour of arguing with the Guards, the sun beginning to rise in front of us, I demanded that one of the Guards ask an Ordeallan official to verify who we were, since they obviously didn’t believe us. Begrudgingly agreeing, he took down our names and left to replace a Lord or Lady of Ordeallan who was willing to verify who we were.

Now, we were sitting on the outside of the city, the final few Guards who had been assigned to Guard the huge pit outside of the city now beginning to stray back inside, a fresh batch of Guards replacing them, and Tiskial whistled in appreciation. With the sun now up, we could see the full extent of the pit Nihila and Destiny had created to encompass their city.

It was deep- deep enough that when Jane flew over it, she couldn’t see the bottom beyond the dim glow of lava, and a few jagged rocks, and wide enough that building a bridge over it would take days. The heat near it was unbearable, too, as if Nihila had opened the pits of Hell with her powers, and Jane had come back to report that it stunk of Demonic powers, too, giving us reason to consider if it was Hell at the bottom. We couldn’t hear any screeching of Demons from beneath it, and no Demon Lords had made an appearance like when Satalari had opened the pits of Hell, but it was still unnerving to consider that Destiny’s chosen defence was Hell itself.

With nothing to do until a Lord or Lady came back to identify us, we wandered across the space remaining between the wall and the crevice, which Syrphien had fittingly named ‘The Pit’, all of us trying to remain in sight of not only the front gate, but each other. While the others picked through the grass, looking for clues as to where and how Destiny might have surrendered, I studied the city’s wall. They were stronger than last time, having been rebuilt according to Destiny’s instructions, and I couldn’t see any visible weaknesses. Where the wall might have been weaker, Destiny had added huge stone watchtowers as not only support beams, but for the Guards who I could see sitting atop to watch, staring out across the fields for any signs of enemies.

I went so far as to check if there was a way under the wall, only to replace a thick layer of stones and clay underneath a thin layer of soil, preventing anyone from easily breaking through, and running along the top of the wall were huge, cemented in spears of wood pointing outwards. The city itself seemed barricaded, too, from the little I could see over the top of the wall, because any windows that found themselves above the wall were covered by thick bars, the buildings for two streets inwards made of solid bricks rather than wood, preventing fires.

No wonder Destiny had been Caliem’s Greatest Assassin. She would have made an excellent General, too, if it wasn’t for her predisposition to not follow orders, despite her love of giving them.

Every foot soldier I had seen was armed with a sword, three daggers, and a bow with sheaths of arrows, while the ones that seemed assigned to patrol the outside of the wall were armed with the same, but instead of a bow, it was a long, sharp spear. The Guards in the watchtowers had bows, and I could only presume the same set of weapons given to their comrades.

The soldiers on top of the wall had bows and swords, but that wasn’t their only asset up there, because I could see huge metal vats of boiling liquid, as well as bags of what I could only assume was sugar. A brutal, but effective way of clearing enemies from the wall.

To my surprise, soldiers began to emerge armed with shovels, a few toting barrels full of sharp sticks behind them, and they began digging holes periodically around The Pit, placing those huge sticks into them, pointing them outwards- another line of defence.

Had Ordeallan heard what had happened to Tarvenia and, potentially, Karmona, and decided to up their defences, or had Destiny given them a clear plan of what to do once she was gone?

They made their way slowly around, leaving a second ‘wall’ of sharpened wooden spears, before going back a few feet, and putting another wall behind that.

When they were done, the crevice surrounded by sharp points, they retreated back inside just as a carriage exited the front gate, surrounded by an armed group of Guards. The carriage had the Royal seal of Ordeallan on it, a crest that we’d become familiar with after Destiny’s coronation, and it stopped just a few metres from the gate, the Guards lifting spears.

The door opened, two Guards walking around to help a middle-aged woman in a long, bright red gown step out, her hair pulled back into an intricate pile held in place by a small tiara. From her ears hung pearl earrings, a matching necklace hanging from around her neck. Her wrists were covered in thick golden bands. She refused to step on the plain grass, instead waiting until one of the Guards had grabbed a rug from the back of the carriage, laying it out on the grass.

When it was fully smoothed out, the Lady of Ordeallan who had been called to identify us stepped out, revealing their heels, and smoothing down their dress.

Four Guards marched over to us, bowing deeply, before saying, “We request that you accompany us to Lady Espin.”

Oh dear Heavens… It wasn’t a secret how Lord Espin had died, with a spear through his chest, and it was widely speculated that Destiny had ordered for him to be assassinated. If this was his wife, or even just another family member, I could already guess at what was coming.

Avalon had claimed that he believed the Lords and Ladies of Ordeallan were corrupt, either aiming at joining the Caliem Manor, or so convinced we were going to lose that they were choosing whichever side they had the most bets on.

Lady Espin, despite knowing us, wasn’t going to let us in. She would call us imposters.

Syrphien sidled closer to Ash and Jane, Tiskial bowing his head toward me and leading the way, and I leaned over to Syrphien, whispering, “If shit goes down, you protect the girls first.”

The Prince of the Lake Palace nodded dutifully, Ash and Jane winking, and we strode up to Lady Espin, who was already regarding us with a cold, suspicious eye. The Guards at her sides peeled away, and the soldier who had first refused us entry approached, bowing to the Lady of Ordeallan.

“Lady Espin, I request a humble favour from you this morning- We have had these Faeries come to our gate, claiming they’re allies. We need you to either confirm or deny they are who they claim.”

“And who do they claim to be?” She snapped coldly, glaring at the five of us with a hatred akin to the fiery pits of Hell that surrounded us. The five of us locked eyes, the disappointed suspicion in Syrphien’s already confirming what we suspected.

“Prince Lucifer of Tarvenia, Prince Syrphien of Tarvenia, Tiskial of Tarvenia, Ash of Tarvenia, and Jane of Tarvenia. Can you confirm or deny their identities?”

I stepped forward, gritting my teeth as I bowed deeply, saying, “Lady Espin, we met at the war camp, once, when you came to assess Destiny’s position on the battlefield.”

She didn’t show any sign of recognition, and she studied us in silence for a moment longer, debating whether to risk allowing us in, or to have us arrested where we stood, and a moment later, she turned to the carriage, questioning, “Is this the man you’re looking for?” The inside of the carriage was as dark as night, shadows roiling within it, obscuring any sign of the innards of the carriage, and I reached for the weapon on my belt. I could see the glint of a weapon moving in those shadows, preparing itself, and, beyond that, the glistening, darkened eyes of a Demonic-being possessed by a Demon Lord.

Tiskial was already backing up, his hands on Ash and Jane’s shoulders, ready to move them away, and a deep, mesmerising voice from the back of the carriage purred, “Yes, it is.”

Lady Espin turned back to me, giving me a catlike smirk, before stepping neatly aside, to the edge of the rug, and a second later, a dagger was flung out of the darkness of the carriage.

It flew by my throat, just barely missing it, embedding itself into Syrphien, Tiskial swearing as he wrenched Jane out of the way, and I watched as the Fae Prince fell, choking.

“Salt,” Lady Espin questioned, “I wasn’t aware of its effects on Faeries?”

“On their skin, it burns. In their lungs, it knocks them out. In their stomach, it tastes strange. In their blood…” The voice from within laughed darkly, “Well, it’s an entirely different story.”

Tiskial rushed toward me, the two of us drawing weapons as Jane and Ash backed away from Syrphien, who they had begun to aid, trying to avoid the salt that was now coursing through him. He writhed on the ground, coughing up blood, swearing and clawing at himself, tears of pain slipping down his face. When Ash took a step forward, deciding to help him, he batted her away weakly, barking an order to leave him, before beckoning her closer for a moment, whispering something to her that made her cry.

We leapt at the carriage, trying to reach for the body of the voice within, only to have the Guards jump at us, Lady Espin sliding back into the carriage and shouting for the coachman to leave. I grabbed one of the Guards before they could jump onto the back of the carriage, and began pummelling him, his allies quickly jumping down to help him.

The Guards fell within a minute, Tiskial and I finishing them off to the screams of our friend behind us, but before the carriage could enter Ordeallan once more, there was a sharp, bloodcurdling scream, and the bleeding, broken bodies of the coachman and Lady Espin were tossed from the carriage into the mud, the carriage careening over her, crushing her body, before entering the city. The soldiers who had been guarding the gates rushed back inside, the gates to Ordeallan slamming shut and locking with a finality that let us all know we were never going to be allowed inside. We’d lost Ordeallan, too.

Ignoring the traitorous Ordeallan Lady, who was surely dead, we turned back to replace Syrphien still on the ground, his eyes glazed over, Ash and Jane gaping at him from a few feet away.

Tiskial was the first to respond.

“Syrphien?”

Gulping, he lowered his sword, approaching the fallen Faery cautiously, aware that touching even the slightest bit of salt could be equally deadly, and nudged his friend.

“Syr? Come on, get up.”

Syrphien’s body remained still, the dagger still in his throat, his wings and eyes glazed over like frosted glass, and Tiskial let out a broken breath, staring down at his friend.

Jane’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, Ash gripping onto the girl’s arm, and, in a shocked whisper, I managed to stutter, “He’s gone.”

Syrphien was dead. Just like that, like a flame snuffed out. Gone. Dead. His soul sent back to Alcalie to be reused.

A second later, just to rub it into our faces, his body crumbled into dust, leaving nothing but a sword and a pile of green, bloody clothes behind, the salt burnt along with his body.

Tiskial swung around as if he could see all the way to Demon’s Crest, breathing, “Selphien…”

The Fae Princess would be devastated. Her brother was her world, her anchor to sanity.

I hadn’t even begun to process it. I couldn’t feel anything, the lack of shock or grief or horror almost frightening in and of itself. I felt nothing. Not yet.

Jane, shaking her head, simply let out a shattered breath, before her eyes began watering, and she screamed, “Damn it!” She stormed forward, delivering a harsh kick to the pile of clothes, screaming, “Don’t you DARE leave us here you ungrateful, disloyal asshole! Come back here and look after your sister! Don’t you dare just go and DIE! COME BACK!” With each shouted, heartbroken word, she slammed her foot down onto that pile, the sword skittering out of the way of her relentless, merciless foot, and a second later, Ash dragged her away, murmuring, “Stop! Jane, stop! He’s gone!” I had a feeling that Jane’s words hadn’t just been aimed at Syrphien, but Kynal, too.

From the ground where Lady Espin laid, there was a pained groan, the woman trying to drag herself back into the city, her fingernails digging into the mud, and Jane shoved Ash away from her, picking up Syrphien’s sword and thundering over to where the Lady of Ordeallan unsuccessfully tried to escape, the fear in her eyes now evident when Jane leaned over her, wrenching her up by the back of her dress and pointing the sword downwards, toward the back of her throat.

“Who was that in the carriage?! It was a Demonic-being, wasn’t it?!”

Lady Espin shook her head as best she could, refusing to talk, and Jane, in her grief, didn’t give her a second chance. The sword sliced cleanly through her throat, her head rolling onto the grass, and Ash began crying. Jane continued to stab the sword downwards, turning Lady Espin’s body into a pulpy mess, all of us wincing with each new murderous jab, the Faery screaming curses at the sky. I knew better than to intervene with Jane’s anger, the grief coursing through her, and I knew it wasn’t just because of Syrphien’s death.

We’d lost the war. There was no doubt about it; there were no cities left to defend, Syrphien was dead, Destiny gone, Cain, Sellan and Poddux captured, our army decimated by Agron in Tarvenia, and to top it all off, the one chance we might have had in destroying Lilith was missing!

Closing my eyes for a moment, I fought back the hopelessness that suddenly rose in front of me, all-encompassing. We’d lost. It was done.

‘Lucifer? Are you alright?’ Tatiana’s voice was a Heaven-sent mercy, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond more than a bluntly said, ‘Syrphien is dead.’ My Connected’s reaction was instantaneous, her panic hitting me harder than the hopelessness ever could, and I sunk to my knees, dropping my head into my hands. I needed a moment- a moment to process everything, to realise what had just happened.

‘What?! Where are you guys? How is he dead?!’

‘He’s dead, Tatiana! We’ve lost the damned war!’ I shouted furiously, the anger slapping me across the face, and I felt furious tears begin to spill over as I hit the ground with my fist, swearing.

An assassination, it could be nothing else, but by who? Caliem Manor? Why target Syrphien?

How had Ordeallan fallen when just a few days before, Destiny had been ruling over it?!

Tiskial’s warm hand, and his arm wrapping around my shoulders. Lifting my head, I saw that tears were sliding down his face, too, his eyes staring blankly at where Syrphien’s ashes now laid.

‘Lucifer, tell me you’re joking!’

I ignored my fiancée, unable to bring myself to answer, wishing I was joking, that it was just some sort of sick prank, that Syrphien would stroll up from behind and laugh at us for crying.

Ash brought Jane over, who was still holding Syrphien’s sword, the two of them crying, and we sat together, Tiskial wrapping his other arm around his wife. Jane sat down on the other side of me, and I gripped her hand, the four of us shaking, the adrenaline wearing off.

Where five had stood, there was now four.

Where four cities had been, there were now none. Two, potentially three, were smouldering ruins, one was now run by enemies, and I’d seen firsthand their defences.

I couldn’t say how long we sat there, simply crying over the body of Syrphien, but eventually, I reached forward, angrily gathering up his clothes, watching in horror as that dust drifted down from it, settling in a pile in the grass, and I hissed, “We need to leave.”

Ash’s startled eyes flew to mine, and she stammered, “But-”

“Now! Ordeallan isn’t our ally, and once that sun sets, we could all be joining Syrphien.”

“So? We’ve lost the war, Lucifer,” Jane mumbled, “What does it matter if we die now?”

I looked over to Tiskial, who lowered his head in shame, and I hissed, “We need to go!”

“Lucif-”

“If we give up now, Syrphien’s death means nothing! Get up and let’s go!” I pulled Jane and Tiskial up, Ash rising with her husband, and I glared at Tiskial.

He snorted, shaking his head morosely, and behind him, a weak portal opened, the Forest of the Damned flickering clearly behind it. Jane stumbled through first, Ash following close behind, and I turned to glance at Ordeallan, the lights beginning to appear as the sun set. Tiskial looked with me, the light from his eyes guttering as the two of us looked to Syrphien’s resting place.

A second later, we stepped through, the portal closing…