Chapter 14 - Introductions

When he was a child, about a month after he first met Julius, Lazar ran away from the Andire manor.

His own memories of the incident were hazy. He’d been young at the time, completely unable to fly, and less than half the height he was now. He couldn’t even remember why he’d run away, only that it had happened, that he was gone for a week, and that when he returned, the lord and lady had started acting differently around him.

Sometimes, if he focused and strained his mind to remember past the fog, he’d recall flickers of images and emotions. He remembered approaching voices and yells, cowering behind white marble. Picking at calluses that had grown too quickly on his hands, hands that were just barely large enough to grip a weapon.

He remembered weariness, and Lazar thought he must’ve been particularly tired that day. Perhaps he’d angered the lord and lady of the manor and fled into the rest of Elysium. It would make sense—enough sense that he didn’t like to think too hard about it.

The sky island the Andire manor was situated on was both one of the largest and most isolated in the realm. Past the manor itself was a long expanse of fields and running streams that dripped down the edges of the floating island in crystal clear waterfalls. If one were to look down, they would see no end to the water, and yet it continued to flow, an infinite, eternal resource.

He’d never been allowed to go there in the past, but he used to stare at those rippling grass fields from behind the pillars and think that surely the blue sky must look enormous from their center.

That day, as he’d fled the stark halls of the manor, those fields had been the place he’d automatically turned to. This part he could recall most clearly. He could still feel the push of the wind on his back and skin, and despite his feet being sore from running so much, he remembered breathing in the air and feeling more alive than ever before.

After that, things grew fuzzy. Sometimes he remembered a looming silhouette, a bright light so overwhelmingly radiant that it seemed to envelop everything, and a scarlet sky unlike anything he’d ever seen in Elysium. It was so vibrant that it hurt to look at.

And then, when he returned to the manor, the memories became clear again. It was like waking up from a dream; one moment he blinked his eyes, and then there he was standing amidst the white halls again.

Julius had run up to him and hugged him as tightly as he could. Lazar was still a fair bit taller than him at the time, but that hadn’t stopped the boy.

Lazar hadn’t known what to do. Julius said something, but the words were muffled and didn’t register properly. What he did notice, however, was the growing patch of wetness on his shoulder. He’d awkwardly raised a hand to pat the younger boy’s back, attempting to mutter reassurances that he wouldn’t repeat whatever it was that he’d done again. Even though he hadn’t known what he was apologizing for, he still felt guilty.

At the edge of his vision, he remembered seeing the lord and lady watching from the shadows behind the pillars. He’d stiffened, but Julius hadn’t noticed, clinging to him with a vice grip. Lazar had stared at them, perfectly still, waiting for a yell or a blow to come. But none had. The two simply stood there for a few more moments, staring at him, before they’d turned and left, leaving just the two children in the hallway.

It was terribly vacant, Lazar remembered thinking. Those white marble pillars were massive to them, without wings to carry them higher, and he didn’t even see another servant around.

At that moment, it occurred to him that the boy clinging to him probably didn’t have any real friends. Julius had struck him as a bit awkward and distant when they interacted, but maybe he just didn’t know how to talk to people. Certainly, he would never have thought that he’d react so strongly to him disappearing. He hadn’t thought he’d left enough of an impression for that.

Since he was old enough to understand things, Lord and Lady Andire had always told him it was his duty to protect their son with his life, so much so that he’d taken that fact for granted even when he hadn’t met Julius yet.

But right then, as Lazar was hit with the realization that Julius, that anyone had actually missed him, that promise became not just an order, but one he made himself. The first vow he swore of his own accord.

—

Lazar blinked open bleary eyes. His entire body felt heavy and sluggish, covered in dull aches and throbs and stings, and it took a second for his vision to focus. When it did, he saw that he was looking up at a glowing red ceiling reminiscent of the stones the structure had been built out of. He tried to move his hands, and he felt his skin brush against soft petals. He was on hard ground, he realized. No longer in the main cavern.

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Lazar’s eyes widened and he attempted to force himself up, but he only got halfway before he collapsed back down, his limbs refusing to listen. He stared at them, belatedly realizing that his wounds had been freshly wrapped, albeit rather messily.

“Awake?”

Lazar blinked, turning his head to the side.

Crouched a few feet away was the flesh eating demon. She had a few new scratches on her clothes, but he couldn’t see any physical wounds. The extra arms were gone. Her hair fell back across her face, once again obscuring the many eyes the seraph knew were there, leaving just a single sharp gold one to study him.

Lazar tensed on instinct, but the demon’s posture seemed casual. She was hunched over something, hands preoccupied, and if anything she looked amused. The seraph’s eyes fell on the thing she was crouched over, and he paused.

Although it was torn and ripped into, now reduced to no more than scattered lumps sitting in pools of viscous liquid, a single yellow eye on one of the lumps told him that this was the soul eater. Or what was left of him, anyway.

The flesh eater raised one of her hands which were coated in red, streams of it running down her forearms and soaking rolled sleeves. She pointed at one of the lumps, grinning.

“I’d ask if you want some, but I’m guessing not.”

Lazar studied her for another moment, then shook his head as much as he was able to in his current position. The demon shrugged.

“Cool. More for me.” She turned around, her back to the seraph as she continued with her meal. Without looking up, she jabbed a bloody thumb at the multitude of black flowers surrounding him. “Those’re edible, by the way.”

Lazar blinked in surprise, but nodded. He stared down at the blossoms, carefully plucking a few. It felt a bit odd to eat them like that, but he was acutely aware of his growing hunger. He inspected them first, rotating their inky petals to the glowing red light. Grey eyes fell on the demon, who still had her back turned. If she wanted him dead, he decided, then there were plenty of other methods and opportunities to have done that.

He bit into one of the petals. They tasted bitter and had a sour aftertaste, but he couldn’t detect any tingling in his mouth or other signs of poison. He swallowed, waited a bit, and ate some more.

“Where are—where is this?” he asked once he was done. Although it looked similar to the area from before, he didn’t recognize the pattern of stones making up the walls.

“Somewhere deeper in the caves. Found this nice little spot and thought it looked cozy enough.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t seem like anyone’s been here for a while.”

The overgrown black flowers did seem to imply that. Lazar’s eyes fell on his bandaged wounds. He moved his fingers, slower this time, and though his injuries still ached, they’d been reduced to a dull throb. If he focused hard enough, he could move somewhat.

“Did you treat my wounds?” he asked. He pushed himself up slower and more carefully this time. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

The flesh eater snorted. “Never thought I’d hear a seraph thanking a demon.” She glanced back at him, a streak of blood smeared under her lips. “For the record, you’re probably better off staying down for a bit. I’m surprised you were moving at all back there, that shit looked bad.”

“I’m used to it,” Lazar said automatically.

The demon raised an eyebrow, chuckling lowly, and the sound came out as more of a rumble.

“If you say so.” She sounded amused. She cocked her head to the side. “You’re a funny one. That’s good. Makes things more interesting.”

The demon turned around fully and wiped the blood and scraps of flesh off her mouth with the back of her wrist. More of the liquid dripped down from her hands, but she didn’t seem at all bothered by it. She watched him with that piercing eye, cocking her head to the side and grinning in that unsettling way of hers. At that moment, the growing pool of blood from the devoured soul eater behind her and soaking into the flowers, Lazar was acutely aware of the fact that he was injured and trapped with a flesh eater.

The demon seemed to have followed his gaze, because her smile sharpened.

“Well? What’s your name, funny seraph?”

For a second Lazar was taken aback. The question made sense, but when was the last time someone had asked for his name? People either already knew it or didn’t need to know.

“Lazar,” he responded quietly. He paused, then asked, “What is yours?”

The demon hummed. “My name? Damn, I haven’t used one in ages. Hmm…” Her voice trailed off as she thought. She suddenly clapped her fist, the noise loud in the small space.

“Right, that’ll work.” She grinned down at him, that golden eye seeming to glow in the light.

“Ciel. You can call me Ciel.”