By Iron, we are Blessed.
By Steel, we are Cleansed
By Glass, we are Mirrored.
By Blood, we are Fractured.
By Ink, we are Strengthened.
By Fire, we are Pure.
-1st Book of Creeds, Acolytes of Iron
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Dark, hazy rain poured down on them as they skulked through back alleys and hid in archways. Neon lights from the streets reflected in black water back at Abel. They wove their way through the city, avoiding the crowded streets as much as possible. The rumble of voices and vehicles became more indistinguishable from each other as their journey stretched into the night.
Vel'tek hadn't talked to Abel after her outburst, only responding to his questions with disinterested grunts or scoffs, directing him with vague hand motions and hisses. She had produced a poncho from the pocket in her armor and handed it to him wordlessly. Abel fumbled his thanks, the words lost in the roar of EndsMarch. The fabric did a decent job of keeping the water out and an even better job of hiding his face from any curious eyes.
Night drug on. They hadn't slept yet. Abel's legs were dragging through the puddles, and he still wasn't sure where they were even heading.
As the first rays of morning sun lit up the undersides of the fast-moving clouds, they finally stopped in front of a comparatively short brick building. It was still massive, around the tallest buildings in New York, but its size was still dwarfed by the steel and glass behemoths on either side.
"We're here," Vel'tek sighed. Abel jumped, surprised at the first words he had heard from her in hours.
"Where is here?"
Vel'tek shot him scathing glare. "Home. Don't make me regret this any more than I already am."
Abel shut his mouth and nodded.
Vel'tek pushed open the creaking front doors to a lobby worn with age. Grime caked the once white floor tiles. Scratches and nicks pocked the front desk. Cracks crisscrossed the brick walls with reckless abandon, uncaring if they brought the entire structure down. A single fluorescent tube strained to light the dim lobby, but shadows still permeated the corners. Abel crinkled his nose at the twinge of mold in the air.
Vel'tek hurried him past the front desk, the bored receptionist not even glancing at them, and into a dilapidated elevator on the far side of the lobby. Strange runes and symbols marked the buttons on its panel that Abel couldn't make heads or tails of, but Vel'tek selected one without looking. A soft ding accompanied the button press. She leaned back against the wall and let her head rest on the dirty back panel. Her eyes closed as she took in a deep breath.
"What now?" Abel asked, half to himself and half to her.
Vel'tek cracked an eye open at him. Abel thought he could see deep purple starting to form under her eyes.
"We lay low. For a day at least."
"And then?"
"You leave, hopefully."
"Harsh."
"And you think you don't deserve it?" Vel'tek was glaring at him now, her weariness unmasked to Abel. A shudder rocked the elevator but it continued upwards.
He returned her glare. "I didn't ask for this."
"And neither did I. But here we are."
They rode in silence the rest of the way up. With a grinding crunch, the elevator came to a stop about halfway up the building. They stepped out into a poorly lit hallway complete with frayed green carpet. The drywall wasn't in much better condition than brick walls downstairs, with cracks to match. Wallpaper peeled at the edges and furled into sad ringlets along the base of the wall and ceiling.
After a short walked down the hallway, Vel'tek stopped in front of a faded brown door. She held her palm to a small obsidian plate on the side by its frame. It opened with a click and swung on creaking hinges inwards. With a wave, she ushered Abel in and shut the door behind him.
Abel raised an eyebrow. Considering the interior of the rest of the building, he had expected the inside of Vel'tek's apartment to be more worn down. Instead, he was greeted with was a tidy, aesthetically disconnected space from the rest of the building. Strange, multicolored plants hung in baskets from a ceiling that was too tall for the space. Abel saw a set of stairs leading to a spacious loft higher up. Dark woods and soft lights bathed the space in comforting reflections. The windows to the outside extended up to the second story with the entire space open from floor to ceiling.
Abel was at a loss for words.
"This is..." Abel tried to find a word that was adequate.
"Don't say a single negative thing or I'm booting you to the curb," Vel'tek said, unstrapping her boots and setting them next to the door.
Abel frowned. "I wasn't, just surprised at the size. It doesn't really make-"
"Sense? Yeah, it's twice the size of the outside hall. Beneficial anomalous space comes at a premium but..." Vel'tek trailed off, her gaze going to the windows. Abel waited for her to finish the sentence, but she refrained from elaborating further. Vel'tek shook her head.
"Just... don't touch anything. I'll be right back," she said as she walked towards a door inlaid into the wall under the loft.
Abel stood, uncomfortable, dripping water onto the hardwood. With a shrug, he took off his shoes and the poncho, leaving it on a hook by the door, and looked around the apartment. A clean kitchen area sat on the right of the door. The appliances at least looked familiar, but he refrained from touching them to investigate further. A bowl of what he guessed was fruit sat near the edge of the counter.
He stepped away from the kitchen. Couches faced the windows and small shelves full of decorations and books lined the walls near them. Paintings, or maybe they were prints, hung on the walls of glyphs and symbols that Abel couldn't comprehend. Spinning slowly to take it all in, he realized how much Vel'tek had risked by even helping him.
She has a lot to lose.
It sounded like her job was finished. They must think her dead and if she wasn't, she was now associated with him, an Abomination she had called him, not to mention the Keepers hunting him down for being an Anomaly, whatever that meant. Abel sank to the ground and rested his back against the front of one of the leather colored couches. The material felt comfortable but off, not quite the right texture of leather. Abel tried not to think about it and stared out the floor to ceiling windows. The view wasn't great, just the side of another building covered in glass, but it did let the dawn light reflect in and fill the room.
His eyelids drooped. He shook himself, trying to keep awake, but the more he fought, the harder it became.
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He's floating on umbral clouds, his body untangling into the dark.
Miya is there, healthy, happy. Asher too, held in his mother's arms
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"Miya!" he screams. "Asher!"
They don't respond. They can't respond. They are twisting, warping, wrapping around themselves in strands of ink.
And they are gone. Replaced with something else. Something that fills his mind. Malevolent. Violent. Destructive. It sits. It listens. It watches.
Its hungry.
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He woke with a start. It was evening. At least, he thought it was evening. The light pouring in from the windows was hued red and orange, but it was too bright, like midday. Abel squinted and looked around. He was in the same position he fallen asleep in and his clothes rubbed against him uncomfortably, the trapped water causing them to stick and pull against his skin.
A foul taste hung in the back of his mouth.
Groaning, Abel lifted himself off the floor and stretched. Vel'tek stood in the kitchen, armor switched out for more casual clothes, similar to what he was familiar with back home, and dumped ingredients into a pot on the stove. She turned to him and gave him a small smile.
"Dinner will be ready soon," Vel'tek said, turning back to her work.
"You're going to feed me?" Abel asked, still half aware of the waking world.
"I had some time to think while you were out," she said, pointing to a stool near the counter. "Sit."
He obeyed. "I, uh, apologize about the water."
"Don't worry. It'll dry."
Silence stretched between them.
"So... What did you think about?" Abel asked. He hoped it wasn't how to turn him over to the Keepers. Or Sol'hathazar. Or anyone else, really.
"I can't control what happened. And honestly, with the way these last couple of Incursions have been going, I was going to end up dead eventually," she said, staring down at the stove, a glint of sadness flitting across her face. She continued stirring the pot as a shard of light danced off the obsidian utensil she held.
Maybe it actually is obsidian.
"But what I can control is what happens to us now," she said, turning to Abel. Her face was set.
"And I'm going to make sure we both get out of this alive."
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Sol'hathazar was locked, not for the first time, inside a giant metal cube. His hands were chained to the floor and encased in manacles of steel ringed in sigils. Steel shackles bound his feet similarly. The band of metal wrapped around his head acted as muzzle.
Not my favorite place, but not the worst.
His rampage had ended rather abruptly. Two goons in body armor had decided on stopping him after he began beating down the door in the agency's hallway. They weren't the real issue though; they had just delayed him long enough for a squad of Commission enforcers to save the day.
No one had died. He had held back, but his method of entering the building was less than subtle, to say the least. It was no wonder they had been on him so quickly. He was honestly surprised how far he had gotten before being stopped.
He had to try, though. He couldn't afford to let the Abomination slip away.
A click pulled his attention to the wall in front of him, where a rectangular slot had opened at standing eye level. A pair of orange eyes assessed him from the dim hallway beyond the wall. Sol'hathazar raised an eyebrow in silent question.
"My, my, aren't you looking rather pitiful," said a gravely voice transmitted through the walls.
Sol'hathazar grunted.
With a hiss, an opening slid open in the seamless metal wall to reveal a Daemon with short curved horns and rumpled clothes. Bags marked his eyes. The scars etched into his square jaw, somewhat distracted from the stubble that had accumulated after several sleepless nights. His eyes flashed with a hint of amusement as he stared down at Sol'hathazar.
Sol'hathazar rolled his eyes.
"Oh come now, is that any way to treat an old friend?" the Daemon asked. He snapped his fingers behind him at some unseen figure.
"Get that muzzle off of him. We need to talk, not grunt at each other." He shot a glance at Sol'hathazar. "Though grunting may be more his style. Ain't much going on in that head of his."
Sol'hathazar groaned. Not five seconds later, the muzzle dropped to the ground with an ear ringing crack. Sol'hathazar worked his jaw to regain feeling in it.
"Have fun on your little rampage, Sol?" the Daemon asked.
"Would have been more fun if you hadn't interfered," Sol'hathazar said, his jaw cracking with each word. He wasn't the biggest talker by any means, but it felt good to utter sounds that weren't indecipherable grunts. "What do you want, Sig'Onnen?"
"That any way to treat an old friend?" Sig'Onnen said, squatting down to eye level with Sol'hathazar. A tired smile stretched his face as he looked at the chained Daemon.
"As I recall last time we met was in a very similar position."
Sol'hathazar glared at him. "Spit it out, Sig."
The smile dropped from his face. "We're tracking an Anomalous object deposited in the Inner Reach over twenty-four hours ago. A report of Keepers trying to retrieve the object was sent to us late last night, but by the time we got there the object was lost, along with a Reclamation crew member. Status's of both are unknown."
Sol'hathazar relaxed his face, determined to give away nothing. "What's that have to do with me?"
The smile returned to Sig'Onnen's face. "Come on, Sol, you're better than that. You really think we wouldn't notice you suddenly trashing a corp lobby? Seems a little out of character for you." He tapped his chin. "Unless... you were on the trail of something. Something big."
Despite his best efforts, Sol'hathazar twitched.
Sig'Onnen snapped his fingers. "Bingo. My guess is you have some information on our poor lost Anomaly."
He leaned in. His face blocked the light from the hallway, casting Sol'hathazar's face in shadow. His smile was wide now. Both his sharp incisors glinted in the dim light.
"And you're going to help me find it."
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Abel cocked his head at Vel'tek. "Not that I don't appreciate the help, but how is that going to help me find my family?"
Vel'tek rolled her eyes and sighed. They sat on stools next to each other. A bowl of soup in front of them sent wisps of steam into the spacious apartment. Rays of orange light bounced off the floor and warm-colored walls.
Abel wasn't sure what was in the soup, but it tasted good. A memory of cold beaches and northern winters popped into his head before vanishing. He mulled it over but couldn't place where he was thinking about.
"I told you, it's just the first step. Kal is an expert at these things."
"Horrifically mangling people?"
She clocked him on the head with her spoon, the sharp crack echoing in the apartment. "No, you me-ag-teh. He's good at Scribing. We'll need to get you some Pacts if you want to stay alive long enough to see your family again."
Abel rubbed his head where she had hit him. "Wouldn't it be better just to try and find them?"
Slurping up a large stalk of vegetable-like matter, at least Abel thought it was, Vel'tek waved her hand dismissively at him. "I'm sure he has a Pact that will help you locate them."
Abel's eyes went wide. "You think so?"
"I'm not an expert by any means, but Pacts can do basically anything."
"How?" Abel asked. He still hadn't tasted more than the broth. He wasn't that adventurous. Vel'tek looked up at the ceiling as the gears turned in her head.
"Basically, Pacts are a set of instructions that use your body's energy to manifest Abyssal magic."
That really cleared nothing up for Abel, but he refrained from asking 'How' again.
"And... I won't die from these things being put on my body, correct?"
"Shouldn't."
"I shouldn't?" Abel asked, anxiety causing his voice to rise an octave.
"Yeah, it should be fine."
"That does not fill me with confidence."
"Like I said, I'm no expert, and I'm definitely not an expert when it comes to-" She waved an arm up and down at him. "-Whatever you are."
"Human."
"What?"
"I'm human."
Vel'tek stared at him, then nodded. "Got it."
"What are you?" Abel asked.
Vel'tek shot him an exasperated look. "Daemon, obviously.”
How was that obvious? Abel sighed and returned to his bowl. They ate in silence after that. The only sounds were the clink of their utensils against obsidian bowls. About half way through his soup, Abel realized how utterly stuffed he felt. It was like he had tried to eat an entire thanksgiving dinner in ten minutes. He groaned.
"How are you eating all that?" he asked with a moan of pain.
Vel'tek shot him a quizzical look. "Not sure I follow. This is a pretty light evening meal."
Abel's eyes went wide. Maybe something had gone horribly wrong with his stomach in the last twenty-four hours. He pushed the bowl away.
"How does this all work?" he asked, one hand on his stomach and the other motioning to the surrounding room. Vel'tek barely glanced up from her bowl.
"Its Anomalous space."
"Yeah, but what is that?"
Vel'tek tipped the bowl and drank the rest of its contents, setting it down with a satisfied sigh.
"Normal space is self explanatory," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Left, right, up, down, the obvious. It follows the same rules everywhere. I've heard that's how it is everywhere outside of EndsMarch."
"But EndsMarch has a will of its own, they say. Certain rooms, buildings, or even blocks are Anomalous. Their insides don't match their outsides." She motioned to the surrounding room again. "Follow?"
Abel nodded.
"See, my little slice of paradise lives in Outer Limbo close to the border of Inner limbo. Makes this chunk of Anomalous space exceptionally stable."
It can be unstable? We're in Limbo?
"I'm not sure I follow all those terms, but I catch the idea," Abel said. "I think."
"For now, just now that the farther out you go from the center of the city, the more Anomalous space likes to pop up. The 'core' of EndsMarch is called Inner limbo. We are in the second ring, Outer Limbo. And you really don’t want to be stuck out in the Reaches again."
"Noted."
"Any other questions?" Vel'tek asked.
"Will there be a quiz?"
"For that, you're cleaning my dishes."
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Sig'Onnen sat watching a bio-screen of Sol'hathazar, once again strapped back into his restraints. He had agreed to help, but Sig couldn't just let him go free. Not yet, at least. There was paperwork to do, boxes to check, higher ups to inform.
A technician to his right pulled down their obsidian constructed headset, the eyes on the side snapping shut as he pulled down around his neck.
"Sir, we've found something."
Sig cocked an eyebrow but refrained from taking his eyes off the screen.
"On the Anomaly?" he asked.
"No, sir. It’s about Her."
That got his attention. Sig's head whipped to look at the technician.
"You mean...?"
"Yes sir, we have a lead."
Sig turned back to the screen and couldn't help the smile that stretched across his face.
"Well, well Sol. This may work out for you after all."