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An Angel’s Road to Hell
70. Of curses, connections and a little bit of consequences

70. Of curses, connections and a little bit of consequences

Cassandra Pendragon

It was still warm and shone with a pristine silvery glow again but something was off. The face depicted as a sun was still bleary, the features distorted and somewhat … damaged? I glanced around surreptitiously and cautiously whispered: “Mephisto?” The emblem lit up and I dropped it with a curse, crouching down and bringing my wings together in front of me to from a glittering wall. My pulse raced and my tails curled up as I studied the nightmarish figure that materialised before me.

The first thing that hit me was the cold. Ice was spreading from beneath the creature in an ever growing circle, gold coins and gems were frozen solid and lost their lustre wherever they came in contact with the wave. When it reached me, the sweat on my skin froze solid and crystals formed over my lashes. I felt a faint tug, as if something was trying to pull energy from me, but it didn’t happen. The air shuddered when heat and magic were drawn towards what I assumed was Mephisto and an eerie howl filled the cavern while he slowly stood up, each movement accompanied by another expansion of the frozen circle.

Dead, pale skin clung to an emaciated body, as tall as Mephisto had been, but with only the barest hint of muscles and flesh. His veins were clearly visible, black and twisting they seemed like eels that slithered along his arms and across his neck. The face was a grizzly mask, lifeless black eyes without a shimmer above a skull like nose and mouth. The dried up tendons twisted his lips into the mockery of a smile with shark like teeth blinding through the gaps. His hair was gone and his hands ended in claw like fingers, long and crooked like a bird’s talons. The only thing that reminded me of the eccentric demon I had met was the stately white robe that now hung loosely on his bony frame, even his horns were gone. I had never seen one before, but he looked exactly like I imagined a vampire, devoid of life and an always hungry, bottomless pit that devoured everything that came close, even energy. I gulped and took a step backwards, shattering the ice that still clung to my body. The soulless eyes immediately focused and bore down on me with an inhuman intensity.

I knew I should have been afraid, cautious and probably even ready to run but instead I felt my temper rise. I was simply pissed. The last day had been one intimidating, dangerous and outright infuriating event after the other and that just took the biscuit. “I have had a long day, I’m tired and irritable and you’re not the most intimidating or even ugliest thing I’ve seen today, by far. So, if you want to try your luck, by all means, be my guest. But if there is any form of brains left in you, stop that creepy shit and tell me what the fuck is going on!” I said and pushed energy into my wings until they hummed dangerously and started to twist light and space around them. It was more than I had used during my fight against Galathon but my channels didn’t protest in the slightest. The silvery lines across my body lit up with bluish fire. If he wanted to try me I’d cut him to shreds and burn the emblem before he could take a single step, promises and future regrets be damned!

The look in his dead eyes didn’t change I was sure I’d be about to fight one of the few people I liked to the death when he coughed. A cloud of black vapour escaped his mouth and was carried away by the winds which had picked up since his walking corpse of a body had forced the temperature around us below the freezing point. “Don’t get your wings in a twist. I’m still in control,” he rasped. “At least for now. Ouch.” With a shuddering moan he somehow stopped the siphon of energy and the heat returned immediately, evaporating the sheet of ice that had formed around him. He fell to his knees, head cradle between his hands.

“Don’t just stand there like a watered poodle,” he mumbled. “Pick up the emblem and give it to me. Now!” Yep, that was him, alright. I thanked whoever was listening and hastily scrambled to get my fingers around the smooth silver coin. With no more than a thought I appeared by his side and offered it to him. He grabbed it, groaning like a wounded animal and pressed it against his forehead. Dark words strung together in a chant left his lips in quick succession, if I hadn’t known who he was, I’d have thought he was praying. After a moment, I saw a flash of soul energy and a vicious, red light shone from the emblem. It coalesced into a sphere of burning energy, a dominant will resonated from within and brushed against me but it dispersed as soon as it touched my aura. Mephisto keeled over. “What are you waiting for?! Pierce it!” I did.

All of my wings slithered towards the thing and slammed into it with every last ounce of energy I could squeeze through my meridians. The chamber lit up with a blinding flash of silvery light, the howling ceased and I heard a distant, orcish scream: “what, in the nine hells, have you done now?” For the fracture of a second I felt resistance but than it shattered like brittle glass and a rush of life force and soul energy flowed through my wings and crashed into me. When I had blinked away the stars before my eyes, Mephisto had changed. For want of a better word he looked like a ghost, transparent and blurry as if he was standing behind a thin curtain of water. He gingerly got to his feet, the movement seemed like a weightless glide.

“Leeches and maggots, if it rains it pours. Good to see you again in one piece, Cassandra.” His voice sounded distant, distorted, like a transmission through a cheap communications crystal. “And thank you. He nearly got…” He was rudely interrupted by stomping footsteps and an angry outburst: “who the fuck are you?” Barzuk, who had come around the same corner he had vanished behind, a fluttering white cloak with golden embroideries draped over his arm, turned to me and pointed at Mephisto’s apparition: “who the fuck is he? Is that a ghost? By the mother, are ghosts real?!” I glance over at Viyara and Erya but both of them were still deep in trance, their eyes closed and only their lips moved from time to time. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with their questions for now, but before I could even start inventing a story Mephisto answered with his strange voice:

“No, my mentally challenged, green friend. I’m not a ghost and there is certainly no need to shout. My name is Mephisto and I’m on your side.” He turned to me. “I am, am I not?” I winked at Barzuk: “mostly, but if the lump of muscles annoys you too much, you’re very welcome to teach him a lesson. Barzuk, meet my teacher, Mephisto. Mephisto, this is Barzuk, chef extraordinaire and a first rate sourpuss. His alright, if a little grumpy. You two should get along splendidly.”

“I am not grumpy!” Both of them … grumped at the same time. They stared at one another and I had to giggle. Two peas in a pot… one of them was even the right colour.

“As much as I’d enjoy watching you two get to know each other, we don’t have much time. Mephisto, care to explain what happened to you or should I tell you why we’re in the middle of a dragon’s hoard with the owner’s cook first?” His regal but somewhat translucent face turned to me with a scowl. “My story doesn’t take much time. I assume you remember the poison I pulled from you back when … whenever it was. Unfortunately I didn’t quite understand what I was dealing with. It worked in two stages, the first one attacking the body and the second one, an ingenious little add on in the form of a small, corrupted spark of a soul, infiltrating my life force and soul. I screwed up and didn’t realise what was going on until I retreated into the coin. As soon as my consciousness dimmed down to regenerate, the pesky bugger went for me. When you refreshed my energies it bloomed and nearly consumed me. What you just destroyed was most of my life force and soul, thus the rather … ghostly form.” He gestured along his body. “I’m not much more than memories, a consciousness and an astral body right now, powered by the tiniest spark of life.” I was stunned. With all his knowledge he had been nearly brought down by a poison. A shudder ran along my spine when I imagine what would have happened to me if he hadn’t extracted the vile concoction.

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“Thank you,” I said quietly but with as much sincerity as I could muster. “You saved my life and more. Thank you. Is there something we can do to help?” Astoundingly, Barzuk hadn’t interrupted and was following the conversation, his mouth opened and a look of utter disbelieve on his face.

“Probably… possibly? I’m not really sure myself. It’s not a perfect metaphor but you can imagine the different capacities for energy as a … bowl. It’s filled with water that you can use to power your spell. Once it’s empty you have to wait until it fills again. That was my problem before, I had run empty and considering my state bound to the emblem that alone is dangerous. Without a body all kinds of complications can arise. But now it’s even worse.” He clasped his hands behind his back and adopted his lecturing pose.

“The poison, curse… soul whatever it was attacked the bowl if you so will. I crushed it and forced the infected parts to manifest. That’s what you shattered. Right now I don’t have a container to collect life or soul energy in. Well, at least not more than the smallest puddle, enough to keep me cognisant and in existence, but that’s about it. There are several spells that could fix that but it’d take an…” he glanced at Barzuk,” … it’d take one of us or a couple of sentient and powerful sacrifices to perform such a feat. You can’t yet and I’m, well, crippled. Unless you’re willing to put a village or a bunch of virgins to the sword I fear I’m stuck just the way I am, for now. Once you can use all of your energy or we find a truly powerful practitioner with access to life and soul energies there might be a chance.” He looked around. “Or maybe… you said we’re in a dragon’s hoard, right? Looks decent. How old is the lizard?” Barzuk spluttered.

“Decent?! I’ll have you know my master was an ancient Gold and this hoard stands up to any comparison in the world! Who are you even to…”. Mephisto interrupted him.

“Was? You said was. Is he dead? What kind of trouble did you get yourself into now, Cassandra?” We both ignored the orc who was shaking his head violently and tried to regain Mephisto’s attention with a series of curses and insults. It took him a couple of seconds to realise the futility of his endeavour and shut up. I gestured for him to wait, most of his questions would be answered if he was just willing to listen and use his brains. His skin turned and amazing shade of yellow green with how much blood was rushing to his face but he calmed down, a little.

“Uhh, that’s a long story but I guess we have the time. So, after you vanished…” by now I had some experience in recounting what had happened I succinctly told him what he needed to know, including a short explanation how and why I had arrived at the volcano. “Also, I found… a girlfriend,” I added. I still didn’t want to get into the whole reincarnation thing with Barzuk present. “You know, someone I have always dreamed about. Her name is Ahri, by the way and she was my maid. Did you know?” He grinned.

“No, I didn’t. I just had a way to find her in case it became necessary. But I’m not really surprised. How’s she doing? And how are you? Sounds like you’ve had one hell of a week.”

“Better than I expected, honestly. I still have some triggers that conjure up all sorts of ugly memories but I’m okay. Getting together with Ahri has helped, a lot. She’s mostly fine, worried about me I guess, but she doesn’t seem overly burdened.” When I thought about her I was tempted to ask Mephisto about the tattoo, but only for a moment. She wanted me to remember and I had promised I wouldn’t pry.

“Good, good. I have some more delicate questions to ask, though. Should I knock the orc out?” He asked innocently. Barzuk sneered: “I’d like to see you try.” He hefted his cleaver and stared at Mephisto challengingly.

“Oh?” The latter asked and advanced with a floating motion, a happy smile on his face and his index finger outstretched. I expected him to walk into the barrier that forced him to stay close to the coin, but nothing happened. Before the two of them could get carried away I interrupted them:

“There is no need. I just skipped those parts out of habit but I guess this isn’t the best situation to keep too many secrets. Stay put, the both of you, or I’ll make you. That’s better. Now, ask away.”

They were still eyeing each other, Mephisto amused and Barzuk seething with barely repressed anger. To make matters worse Mephisto started nonchalantly:

“Did you bind the dragon girl on purpose? Miraculously you survived your last ascension but it’s still somewhat early for a steed, especially since it is your very first, as far as I know. Or do you already plan to leave the planet?” What an ass, he knew very well that I had had no idea what I had been doing but the way he framed it could only lead to… “what?!” Barzuk thundered, brandishing his cleaver wildly. “She did what? I swear if you don’t come up with a good explanation I’m going to smash you both into the ground.”

“You imbecile,” I retorted. “You know very well that I was simply trying to save her life, not meddle with anything else. Will you calm down? You’re not helping in the least. But I’d like an explanation as well. Steed? What, by the Great Fox, do you mean?” Mephisto’s smile broadened. I didn’t know if he had wanted to get under the orc’s skin or if he had intended to fluster me but he was seriously enjoying himself. Much more than he should, especially since Viyara’s mind touched mine just then and there and a cold thought drifted through me and presumably the others:

“I’d like to know that as well. I am no one’s servant! Who are you, even?” On the plus side, we could communicate mind to mind again, but on the other hand… I’d have to see what Mephisto had to say but this could turn out pretty awful. What had I done? Nervously I glanced at the dragoness with the fey on her head. Erya was smiling at me impishly but Viyara was focused on Mephisto. Tentatively I reached for her thoughts: “I’m sorry, whatever happened, I’m truly sorry. This has never been my intention.” She huffed and a cloud of smoke escaped her. “I know. Honestly, I already suspected that there would be some form of … purpose? Consequence? to what you did. I’ve changed too much and… maybe we can talk about who you are later. For now: you saved my life, I’m more than grateful and that’s that. But I would still like to know what he has to say. By the way, who in the nine hells is he?” She was shielding our conversation from the others which allowed me to answer truthfully. Barzuk I didn’t mind but I wasn’t keen on spilling more of my secrets than I had to before the fey. Who knew what she would be up to.

“He’s… well, he’s my teacher and a friend. He’s old, like, really old, ancient and not in the dragon way. I’m talking about aeons not a couple of centuries. He’s the only one I know who really understands my magic, or at least parts of it. Again, I’m sorry, but what he says is most likely true, whether we like it or not.”

“Will you stop now? I already told you that I don’t mind… that’s a lie. I do mind but I trust you. And for all it matters, I actually like carrying you around. It feels just… right? I don’t know, maybe I just enjoy your presence but if that’s all there is to it I’ll be fine. I didn’t plan to leave anyways, or were you expecting to be rid of me after we get out of here?” The last remark sounded lighthearted but connected as we were I easily felt the undercurrents of concern that accompanied it.

“Never,” I replied, completely truthful.