Chapter 31 - Rippling Waves

The new chamber Cassius led him to looked similar to the one they’d just stood in, only this was much smaller and had no gap leading to the sky. Here, the tall crystal pillars bloomed from the walls like icy flowers, and pillars of translucent stone lined the space.

The floor itself was every bit as smooth to the touch, but its surface was cloudy and littered with hints of old scratches and dents that had long been covered over. Lazar tested the surface. Although it appeared slippery, there was a surprising amount of friction whenever he moved.

Across the room, Cassius stood in his humanoid form again. Now that he’d seen the demon’s true appearance, the current one only felt all the more odd. His long fanning horns nearly camouflaged into the walls, making him look all the more indistinguishable from a human.

“Would this place suffice?”

Lazar nodded. “It’s perfect, thank you.” He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the crisp air. He couldn’t sense anything, nor were there any sounds that could distract his senses.

“To clarify,” Cassius’s voice broke him out of his focus, “Would any conjuration be sufficient?”

The seraph hummed consideringly. “I believe,” he began, “that basic primal chants would be most effective here.” Lazar paused. He already had a guess, but it was still good to confirm. “Could I ask what your innate affinity is?”

“Water,” the demon responded easily.

When Lazar had asked Cassius if he would be willing to demonstrate a few spells, the demon had been perplexed at first. So far, every time Lazar practiced strengthening his soul, he reached blindly for the surrounding essence. He’d suggested that if he were to attempt to meditate while a spell was being cast, one that he could recognize, then at the spell’s release he would have a reference for what pattern the essence should take. This would, ideally, make it easier to perceive.

Essence manipulation was capable of a vast array of functions, but the most basic involved the primal elements, of which every soul had either a single or, more rarely, a dual affinity. Because of its simplicity, both the process and the resulting pattern of essence would be less complex and simpler to identify.

“Water…” Lazar muttered. He wasn’t as familiar with those chants as the other elements. He’d grown rather proficient with water based magic over the years, but the casting was different for a non affinity.

The seraph gripped at his chest, silently feeling for the spark in his soul. Wind had been his affinity and thus was the most familiar to him. Ever since he was young, he’d had a heightened awareness to the currents of air. The first time he’d performed a chant had been entirely by accident; he’d simply followed the motion of a particularly strong breeze, and essence had curled at his fingertips.

(It was one of his happiest memories, or it would’ve been if not for what it had led to.)

After wind, he’d been nearly as familiar with earth simply because he was always around Julius. He was there when the other seraph first managed to cast a chant, cheering him on through long nights of practice and training. He was there for the celebrations afterwards, and he still remembered how proud Julius had looked.

(This memory remained positive until very recently.)

Lazar lowered his hand. Outside of wind and earth, Lord Andire had a fire affinity while Lady Andire had a water one. Of the two he had more experience with the lord’s magic and had only witnessed Lady Andire perform a few primal chants. She’d retired from fighting long before he’d been born, and the woman always preferred to keep her distance. The few times Lazar had been around her, she’d had the sort of consuming presence that was both commanding and suffocating in its quiet intensity.

Across the chamber, Cassius studied him closely. “From your reaction, I assume that isn’t ideal.”

“I’m less familiar with its spells,” Lazar admitted. He exhaled, steadying his grip on the silver halberd. It hadn’t left his side once since the demon had returned it.

“Would another type of conjuration be more helpful?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s alright. Thank you again for agreeing to help.”

Cassius smiled a little. “I would be overjoyed if fallen truly could ascend and leave the Abyss for another realm. I think every demon would be.”

He turned and faced one of the tall crystals, slowly raising his left hand. Lazar tensed on instinct, and he noted how deliberately the demon telegraphed all of his movements, likely sensing the seraph’s trepidation and noticing that he’d placed himself closest to the chamber exit.

Perhaps the caution was unnecessary at this point, after the demon had made no moves to harm him following the confrontation with Ciel. But whether it was needed or not, the seraph felt more comfortable maintaining it.

“I will begin with a simple continuous conjuration,” the demon explained in that smooth, tranquil voice. “It may be a tad small in scale. There isn’t much essence in the Abyss to work with, I’m afraid, even this close to the realm gate.”

Lazar nodded in understanding, and the demon turned to the crystal again. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, the movement so familiar that Lazar felt himself inhale at the same time. But whereas his was only a simple breath, he knew that Cassius was drawing in a strand of essence, coiling and shaping it in his soul.

The demon moved his hand in quick, sharp movements, and his palm soon began to glow a soft cerulean. Lazar watched the gestures with fascination.

Conjuration, he’d said. That was how the demons capable of magic described it. It was one of the first things Julius’s tutors had taught; magic, though universal in its basics of essence manipulation, differed between realms on its execution.

Seraphs needed only chants to weave essence while demons used hand gestures and physical movements to channel it. Humans favored sigils and inscriptions, though many also incorporated some form of chanting or movement as well.

Still, despite knowing about it in theory, Lazar had never faced a demon capable of using magic before. Cassius’s string of movements appeared so different from the chants of Elysium, and yet his palm glowed with magic all the same.

With a final flick of his wrist, the blue light condensed into a tiny pinprick. Then, in a flash, it burst out.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

A sphere of crystal clear water formed from the glow, drifting gently above Cassius’s open palm. The liquid swirled rapidly within itself to maintain its shape, its interior a whirlwind of movement. The demon raised his free hand, and with a few more quick gestures, he pulled at the sphere.

A ribbon of water streamed outward, flowing with his hand, until the entire ball of water had been unwound. Cassius easily manipulated the stream, allowing it to curl around his shoulder, to ripple and wave around the crystal pillars and dance along the cavern ceiling.

Lazar watched the movements closely. He ran through his rare memories of Lady Andire performing magic, sifting for the one that most matched this spell.

When he was still young and flightless, he’d been passing the courtyard between chores when he’d noticed the lord and lady strolling through the gardens one day. She’d done a similar trick then, albeit with a chant rather than with movements.

At the time, Lazar had been just as transfixed by the ease of magic as he was by the relaxed, almost soft look in both her and Lord Andire’s eyes. He’d never seen either of them look like that before, not even around Julius.

Lazar took a deep breath and forced his mind to focus on the shape the essence had taken that day, surrounded by blooming blossoms. He held to its curling form, the way the strands had been bent and manipulated by the soul, and returned his gaze to the continuous ribbon of water dancing around Cassius.

Still holding onto that memory of essence, the seraph slowly closed his eyes.

That burning spark, the last bit of warmth left in his soul, flickered and danced. He remembered the sensation when the pillar of earth had appeared, the subtle increase of pressure as he and Ciel had moved closer to the realm gate.

He reached out to the memory of essence, and for a brief moment, he felt his soul flare.

And then, just as suddenly, the image collapsed.

Lazar opened his eyes, frowning. That was the closest he’d gotten deliberately, but something was still off. The patterns of essence didn’t align exactly.

“Are you alright?”

Cassius’s even, calm voice spoke up, and Lazar saw that he was still continuing to manipulate the ribbon of water with seemingly no effort. It was to be expected, given he was proficient enough at magic to heal with such little essence in the atmosphere, but it was still a stark reminder of how large the difference in power was between them right now.

“I’m fine, my apologies.” Lazar furrowed his brow. “I’m close, I believe. It will just take more practice.”

“That’s fine. I have plenty of time.”

The seraph nodded gratefully and exhaled, steadying himself, and closed his eyes again.

—

Lazar didn’t know how much time had passed, only that sometime later, when he opened his eyes to yet another failure, Cassius dissipated the water stream with a simple wave.

“That’s enough for now,” he said in that calm voice of his. “You risk damaging your soul if you continue for longer.” For a second, his eyes gleamed with an unspoken warning, and Lazar remembered what he’d said about his duties regarding fallen.

The seraph nodded, albeit reluctantly, and relaxed his muscles. Only after doing so did he realize how weary he was. And, though it was faint, there was a slight soreness in his chest, right where the mark was. Perhaps he’d extended himself further than he thought.

The demon turned and gestured towards the exit.

“Come. I’ve prepared a room for you.” He paused, lips thinning. “Assuming you don’t mind sharing with that flesh eater.”

Lazar smiled a little. “I don’t mind.”

Cassius led them down the tunnels, closer to where he’d first woken up and into a room not unlike that one. Two simple cots were situated on opposite sides against the walls. A single table sat in their center, dividing the space into two, and Lazar found himself wondering just how large the demon’s “home” was.

Surely, given Cassius’s true form, he would have no use for furniture like this. He wondered if the demon had specifically had them prepared for the fallen he housed. The thought made Lazar pause, and he frowned, unsure why he found it unnerving.

“Here we are. I hope your accommodations are satisfactory.” Cassius stopped, glancing in the seraph’s direction. He raised an eyebrow. “Something is bothering you,” he observed.

Lazar looked up and quickly shook his head.

“My apologies. The room is lovely, thank you.” He hesitated, eyes darting briefly to the worn fabric, to the cavern exit, and then back to the demon. “I was…a bit preoccupied. I was thinking about earlier.”

Though he kept his words deliberately vague, the demon seemed to know what he was talking about. Cassius sighed. “I suppose you’re thinking of that crass flesh eater’s comment.”

In truth, Lazar wasn’t sure what to think about it. He wasn’t sure if it was kinder to give fallen a bit of peace and comfort before they were devoured, or if that only meant it would hurt more when it happened.

Julius would probably say it was crueler. The thought came unbidden, and Lazar blinked, taken aback by how suddenly it had appeared. He shook the thought away and forced himself to focus on the present.

Images of dark, jagged lines poking out from worn sleeves flashed in his memory. He looked up, grey eyes meeting blue.

“Leon’s markings looked near their limit.”

Cassius was quiet for a few moments. “They are.”

The seraph studied the demon carefully. “He doesn’t know?”

“He doesn’t.” The demon sighed, that same ancient, weary one that spoke of old regrets and promises. “It’s…unfortunate that someone so young will soon fall victim to the Oblivion.”

For a second, that blue gaze looked distant, focused on something far beyond them.

Lazar spoke slowly. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he began, “how did Leon fall?”

Anger flashed in Cassius’s eyes, so intense that the seraph took a step back and nearly swung his halberd on instinct.

“Humans.” The demon practically spit the word out. “He was an orphan from the second plane. A man there believed he could cheat ascension, tried to play at Cycle and Oblivion.” Cassius chuckled lowly. “There is no limit to their hubris. Leon fell victim to one of his experiments, and the damage to his soul was irreversible.”

“Who was it?” Lazar blurted the words out, surprised at their speed and intensity. Cassius paused, and the seraph could feel the demon studying him. Finally, he shook his head.

“A man by the name of Clyde Astarc.” Cassius scoffed. “I nearly ascended to the second plane myself to deal with him, but I couldn’t leave Leon alone in the Abyss.”

Lazar realized his grip on the halberd had tightened to the point of the skin turning white, and he slowly loosened his fingers again. His mind was perfectly blank. Curling in his chest, that strange coldness rose and fell.

“I see. Thank you for telling me.”

The demon met his eyes, still scrutinizing. Whatever it was that Cassius saw, it must have been enough because he finally took a step back, clearing his throat and visibly recomposing himself.

“I’ve taken enough of your time. Although I healed your wounds, you should still rest if you wish for a full recovery.” He nodded. “Dreams bless your sleep.”

It was different from the “Light bless your dreams” that Lazar was used to. Somehow, when he repeated it back to the demon, it felt easy, comfortable even, to say.

Cassius soon left the chamber, leaving Lazar alone. Despite the demon’s words, he stayed up a while longer, long enough to run through his drills and long enough to see when Ciel returned.

The flesh eater had to duck to get through the smaller doorway, and unlike last time, she didn’t seem to have bothered to clean the blood from her hunt at all. Little bits of minced flesh were stuck beneath her fingernails, and Lazar could see the skin of her forearm still rippling as it smoothed back down.

The flesh eater strode forward and came to a stop by the table. She raised an eyebrow at him, but whatever was the cause of the reaction, she didn’t say. She simply turned to the other bed and plopped down without a care.

The chamber remained silent. Lazar was glad for it.