Lightbringer - The Patron Saints of the Damned III
Chapter 10 - A Soul Apart

Exousia wasn’t sure, but she estimated that at least a few days went by as she made her journey to the opposite end of Hell. It was somewhat eventful at first, when she’d chosen a guard of Hades to violently incapacitate so that she could give her allies plausible deniability if they were accused of aiding her. A strike with the butt of her dagger had served to sever the demon’s spine and hopefully save him some pain. After that, she and Roach made their way into the mountains on the opposite side of Hell as the mountains they’d arrived from in Intake. The climb up the desolate rocky land seemed somehow more secure, if more imposing.

“You really need wings,” Roach said, hovering behind.

“I use as much demon energy I can for my knife,” Exousia said as she climbed up to a point that was flat enough to walk on. She then pulled out the knife and was briefly reminded of when she’d made her first soul-weapon.

Dufaii said that the demon weapon he chose was supposed to be tactical … and seemed to have approved of Exousia’s choice to replicate the human-made one she’d lost in Heaven. And it had proven a useful tool for freeing human souls. Of course, it had also been an occasional weapon, but not as effective of one as the dagger it had become for the Challenge.

“I don’t know how you humans can bear walking so much,” Roach replied, groaning impatiently as he began to fly in circles. “Hey! Maybe you can absorb the divine shard from one of the Lightbringer’s lackeys. You’d have all the power of a demon, and then some.”

“While I have no obligation to follow the law of demons, I will if I plan to have any part to play in the war against the Creator.” Exousia said, though she might have admitted feeling drawn to the idea. But it went against everything her teacher had taught her. Then she looked at her weapon in its dagger form and let out a heavy sigh. If she was going to save Ammon, she needed something better for cutting into souls. What was more, Exousia felt she needed to replace herself and who she was apart from human, god, or demon. And this artifact … it felt like the only version of herself that she really knew.

So Exousia concentrated on the weapon–letting it unwind and slowly become a floating ball of black liquid. Once it no longer had any solid form, she began to reshape it. Only, this time, instead of the full assortment of tools of her previous army knife, there would be only two–a locking blade unfolding at one end and a scalpel at the other. Once the basic form was in place, Exousia returned it to her pocket to finish forming.

It was then that Roach spoke up again. “So, do you want to know how I got fired from working for the Lightbringer?”

“I’m more curious about how you got the job in the first place,” Exousia replied dryly.

Roach cackled hysterically and shook his head. “That was delightfully cruel. But I don’t actually know how I got it. When I woke up from falling off that ledge, I was there with no memories whatsoever. They told me I worked there, gave me a broom, and let me go at it. It was a cushy enough job, everybody seemed content to ignore me, even if I slacked here or there.”

“Doesn’t really sound like you,” Exousia said, unable to believe that her rather eccentric companion would be able to tolerate it.

“Exactly,” Roach said with repeated nods. Then smiled conspiratorially. “But you know, there were these locked rooms all over the palace. So, one day when nobody was looking, I decided to check a few out.”

Exousia raised an eyebrow, curious.

“The first one I saw was a library, mostly boring secret stuff accounts from that tiger incarnation. I think the only interesting part about it was how he could have written it all without thumbs. But the second one was much more interesting ... weapons everywhere.” Roach’s black eyes glowed with excitement as he talked about it.

“Could you show me that room?” Exousia asked.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Roach said, brushing it off like it was nothing. “As for the third room I ventured in, well … trust me you don’t want to know. I think one of his incarnations spent far too much time around pervy Greek and Roman bards. But the fourth one had someone locked inside.”

“Who?” Exousia asked.

“A weird little demon all messed up and mutilated with barbed wire,” Roach said, giving off a brief shiver. “Kept going on about grapes. They were being kept prisoner there by a demon with a temper problem. She caught me snooping and well … I wasn’t keen on the idea of sticking around. I booked it.”

“How did you get out?” Exousia asked, shaking her head incredulously. “That part of Hell is supposed to be a maze. Not just any maze, one meant to keep the most powerful being alive trapped inside. It would take most demons days to navigate it, even with a map.”

Roach shrugged and smiled proudly. “Some demons can fight, others can carve, and some can make good wine. I was gifted with looks and a knack for directions. What can I say?”

Exousia thought this a little too convenient, but she also didn’t know what to make of it. So, she made a mental note of the matter and continued her way through the mountains.

At some point between the hours and maybe days that passed, Exousia sensed life forces begin their approach from behind. They were still far away but would soon catch up to their walking targets. Exousia decided she would have to hurry to make it to the edge of the cavern before they caught her So, she turned her walk into a jog for as long as the path allowed.

-O-

Megan woke with her chest burning and her stomach expelling water. She gasped for breath and tried to look around in the dim orange light around her. She felt a hand touch her back and then hold her hair in place as she wretched up a little more water. She blinked through stinging tears and tried to figure out what was going on. Her body was still immersed in water from her neck down. And her feet were touching what felt like smooth stone beneath her.

“It’s alright,” said the voice of the angel with golden armor, wings, and a gun. He was the one who had come with Dufaii and the four-armed demon to rescue them. “I thought you knew how long a swim was ahead of you, working with a demon as you were. You have my apologies.”

“Who are you?” Megan whispered, her voice cracking from the strain of having vomited. She looked around the orange cave she found herself in, for them. But the only things in the cave were her four companions from the battle.

“You may call me Abha,” the angel said before turning to the others with a smile. “Perhaps we should save the gruesome details of this place for after she has had a moment to deal with the present?”

“No, I’m okay,” Megan said, feeling like she was jumping on the chance to prove herself a little too eagerly. But this had been the only reason she had come this far, so maybe it was the right strategy. “Is this … Hell?”

“A prison and place of punishment for the Lightbringer and their demons,” said Abha, speaking ambivalently about the matter in a way that reminded her of someone speaking about a tragedy so often that it became commonplace, no matter how horrific it was. “It is cursed as well; that pool is the only amount of moisture in the entire realm. Were you to leave it, I’m not sure how long your body would last.”

Megan lifted her hand out of the water and then over her head. When it had passed the lip of the pool, she felt the dry air immediately begin to leach the moisture from her skin. Within a few seconds, it was completely dry. Her skin started to itch and look flaky, like the skin of someone from a movie who had been lost in the desert. So, she dropped her hand back into the water and kept her head low.

“We should have never brought her here,” Michael said, looking uncomfortable and like he was having a hard time even standing still. It was almost like he was trying not to panic, which seemed strange for the angel. He glanced repeatedly at the bag that was in the corner and shook his head. “I will take her and them, and bring them out.”

The eyes of Dufaii and the demon with red skin both narrowed on him, casting dark and threatening expressions. But it was Abha who spoke first, “As the guardian of this portal, I cannot allow that.”

“I am an Archangel,” Michael said, trying to stay calm.

“Who has been stripped of his power and position,” Dufaii countered.

Abha smiled pleasantly, as if he hadn’t heard those last words.

Michael looked stunned as he glanced between the two of them. Then his eyes widened in horror. He nearly stammered as he pointed at Abha and said, “You’re on the side of the demons! You’re a traitor to Heaven.”

The red skinned demon smiled at this and wrapped her six arms around Abhayananda from behind. She said, “Always has been. You idiots missed a lot of younger rebels who would have joined our fight if we had let them. Not his fault that you happened to hire one of them to guard the gates of Hell.”

“Maeva, my love, let’s not be cruel,” Abha said before kissing one of her hands and then removing it so that he could walk between the Archangel and the pool of water. He placed a hand on his weapon casually, as if to say that he did not want to be threatening but would do so out of necessity.

“You betrayed-” Michael said, looking dumbfounded.

“My friend, I’ve never betrayed a soul,” Abha replied. “I have always stood by my demon brethren. Many of us would have never been part of that vile perversion of justice so long ago. We never had the opportunity to stand against you on the battlefield. And I’m not the only one. Countless are the angels who regretted their lack of courage in that court. And while none of us can fully share in the heritage of the demons now, we stand with them all the same.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Michael asked, looking at the demons around him as if he suddenly realized that he had been led into a trap.

But Abha just smiled. “Because, like it or not, you’re one of us now. Don’t worry. You have nothing to fear, as you may take sanctuary here for as long as you need. And you have the rare opportunity among angels of seeing the results of the Creator’s cruelty. Perhaps you will understand our plight now that you too are a victim of their indifference.”

“I won’t betray my people or my Creator,” Michael said sternly, his fury no doubt subdued by his helplessness.

“It isn’t betrayal to do what is right,” Abha replied, his face serene.

“While I would love to see you two fight, we do have more pressing issues,” Maeva said with a lusty wink. “We need to get to Hades. The problem is that the human’s body will die if we try to bring her there.”

“Then it seems she has to make a choice,” Dufaii said, unsheathing his sword. He ran his gray fingers along the blade. “I can sever your connection to this body temporarily. We can quickly take it back to the mortal realm and leave it in a hospital. You may return to it if you survive this place.”

“I could be trapped here forever?” Megan asked, the hairs on her body feeling like they were standing on end. A chill went down her spine. Even if she survived, how could she be sure that her body would be kept alive? What if life support was pulled? What if the demons were attacked and lost her body altogether? Most importantly, what if her soul was forever trapped in this place meant only for the corrupted?

“I would say that there is no need for you to endanger yourself by staying here,” Abha said, his eyes narrowing on her with concern. “However, I do understand that humans have a stake in this matter as well. Your home and your way of life are in peril. And, from what I have heard, you were affected personally by the Challenge.”

“The Creator … their Challenge killed people I care about,” Megan whispered, her voice becoming dark as she spoke. But what was strange was that her memories suddenly took hold with a force. Scenes of when she could have done better, how she might have saved them, flashed before her eyes. Megan knew that she had pushed herself to fight. But had she made any difference? Could she make any difference in the presence of immortal beings? Something unfamiliar in the back of her mind whispered that she could not. From the time of the Challenge, she had only ever been in the way. Exousia had no doubt lost because of her. If anything, this entire mess had been because she’d allowed those demons in the woods to terrify her into becoming a pawn in their plans.

“What are you doing to her?” Michael demanded, shaking her shoulder and rousing her from the trance-like state.

“It isn’t us,” Dufaii said, his eyes narrowing to a cold stare.

“It’s this place and the curse that the Creator put upon it,” Maeva said, her own eyes also dully radiating a rage as old as time. “Their own shame projected onto their children for an eternity of torment.”

Michael opened his mouth to argue but stopped. There was no denying what he could see plainly. “I will take you home, Megan, even if I have to fight through these demons to do so.”

“No,” Megan said and shook her head, her mind clearing a bit now that she realized how much of her thinking was not her own. “I can’t go back now. Do whatever you need to do so that I can go forward. If I can replace Exousia or help you all out of this place, then at least it will all feel like everything I lost has meant something.”

“I admire your passion but I will warn you that tragedy rarely feels redeemed when all is said and done,” Abha said, lowering his head somberly.

Maeva nodded, her eyes fiery. “But forward is the only way that you can go if you wish to walk the path of strength and honor … even if it is only to your own destruction,”

Dufaii, it seemed, had nothing more to add. Without a word, he walked forward to the pool and then raised his weapon over her.

“I’m ready,” Megan said and squeezed her eyes shut–bracing for something functionally no different than death.