Chapter 55 - Hanging Colors III

Lazar peered up at the almost perfectly straight tree trunk. Perpendicular branches jutted out around it, spiraling up to the top, and they rattled slightly in the cool breeze. From this angle, the flesh eater was partially obscured where she sat halfway up the trunk.

Taking a moment to test the strength of the branches, the seraph adjusted his grip on his halberd and carefully began to climb up. The even distribution of branches made it fairly easy to use them as a ladder, though he had to be careful to avoid stepping on the thinner ones.

The higher he climbed, the more the music and bustle of the crowd faded. The night air was crisper and a little cooler here, and Lazar breathed in deeply, filling his lungs.

Soon Ciel came into view. The demon lounged on one of the thicker branches, her back against the trunk. She didn’t turn her head as he approached, though she definitely heard him.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

In response, the flesh eater shifted over, making room on the branch. Lazar sat and peered down.

Below them, the campfire and candles lit up the barren space with a warm glow that steadily faded into the inky night. Lazar could see every detail of the festival from here: the spinning dancers, the chatting villagers gathered around the line of food, the musicians swaying to their own songs. When the wind blew, the few pieces of cloth that hadn’t been blown away yet flared out, forming a sea of golden light streaked with vibrant hues below them.

“It’s beautiful.” Lazar spoke before he realized he’d voice the thought aloud, and Ciel chuckled, the sound a low rumble.

“Eh, it’s not a bad view.” Golden eyes peered down below. “Humans’re definitely better at partying than us.”

Remembering the formal balls of Elysium, the seraph smiled a little.

“I suppose so.”

A stronger gust breezed past, and one of the remaining fabric strips loosened, flying away into the night sky. The wind caused the red cloth tied around his halberd to shift as well, and he reached up and untied it.

“Madeline wanted me to give this to you,” Lazar said, holding the piece out. “Unfortunately I’m a bit late.”

Ciel raised an eyebrow, but took the cloth, briefly studying its vivid color. Even higher up and further away from the fires, it still seemed to glow against the dark sky.

“Nice of her.” She stuffed the cloth into her pocket, where part of its end still dangled out. Golden eyes shifted in Lazar’s direction, and she raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been awfully quiet lately,” she observed.

Lazar blinked in surprise. “Have I? I suppose I’ve been preoccupied with the magic issue.”

“Nah, it’s not just that. You’ve got that contemplative look or whatever.” She put on a dramatic pensive expression in demonstration, and Lazar felt a laugh bubble up his throat.

“Surely it’s not that bad?”

Ciel’s face shifted into her usual lazy grin. “Eh, I might’ve exaggerated a little.”

Lazar turned to face the crowd below again. The musicians had switched to an even livelier song, and a number of people previously standing by the food had joined in, flooding the clearing with movement.

Perhaps it was the atmosphere, or perhaps it was the feeling of the clear air against him. Either way, the seraph felt his muscles relaxing, and his words came easier.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,” he said. Ciel didn’t respond verbally, but those golden eyes shifted to study him. Lazar kept speaking, his own gaze focused on the villagers below.

“When I told Matilda about our goals, I asked her what she had believed our background was.” He paused, brows furrowing. “She said she’d thought I was a fleeing bondservant.”

A loud snort interrupted him, and the seraph turned to see Ciel shaking with laughter. He felt himself smile.

“You know what, I don’t even blame her,” Ciel said once the laughter had subsided. “She wasn’t even that far off.”

“I suppose not.” Lazar turned to the festivities again, breathing in the next breeze. “At the time, it bothered me quite a bit, but I didn’t know why,” he admitted. He closed his eyes, leaning back a little to rest against the solid tree trunk.

“Now, I think it’s because I didn’t want to admit that some of it rang true.” He opened his eyes again. “As you said, I was a servant.” His brows furrowed, grey eyes clouding with memories.

“Growing up, I only learned to do things for the sake of better serving the Andire household.” His voice was quiet against the distant music and laughter, and he silently adjusted his grip on the halberd, the silver metal cool beneath his fingertips. “Even fighting and magic I only learned in order to protect Julius.”

He hadn’t questioned it back then. He’d had his duties, and to him the world was confined to the manor with its white pillars and pristine halls. It was the looming figures of the Andire household, it was the weight of their guardian legacy. He’d defined himself by his relation to them, by the knowledge that he was nothing compared to their rich history and valuable futures.

He’d been content with it. If anything, Lazar had considered himself fortunate to have formed a real friendship with Julius. He’d had a purpose, but now, with the mark of the fallen sitting on his chest and the knowledge that his soul would soon be entirely destroyed, all that was left was a deep, pervasive hollowness.

What had he done that hadn’t been directly related to Julius and the Andires? He had no real hobbies, had never had a goal beyond protecting Julius.

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And now, sitting on the first plane, wings torn away and soul damaged, he was confronted with the realization of what an empty shell of a person he was. What a shell he’d always been.

“Bullshit.”

The sound of Ciel’s voice pulled Lazar out of his thoughts. He blinked, turning to the demon, whose expression was unreadable.

He opened his mouth to respond, but before any words could escape, the flesh eater suddenly rose. Balancing expertly on the branch, she reached up to the one above and easily swung herself onto it. The wood creaked a little beneath her weight, but she didn’t stop or slow down, climbing higher and higher.

Lazar jumped up as well. “Please be careful!” he called. “The branches up high are thinner!”

If the demon heard him, she gave no indication of it, continuing climbing with an impressive speed considering her height and build. Branches rattled, the whole tree shaking a little. Taking a moment to assess his current position, Lazar gripped the tree trunk and began climbing as well.

The higher up he went, the more the tree shook. The sound of the festival grew increasingly muffled and distant, and a few smaller branches snapped and nearly hit the seraph on the way up.

The wind grew stronger, rocking the tree slightly, and the light of the realm gate pierced through the dark sky. By now the festival was rendered into distant glowing light, and Lazar could see the shadowy shapes of other tree tops surrounding him as he kept ascending. Still he didn’t stop or slow down, continuing upwards.

Something flew down, and the seraph barely dodged out of the way of a snapped branch. He heard laughter up above and pushed himself to climb faster, higher and higher up into the sky.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but soon enough as he climbed past the next branch, he was met with the vast sky above him, free of the barren canopy. Lazar exhaled, realizing how fast his heart was racing, and slowly turned his head.

All around them, the canopy of the forest formed a shadowy sea. The wind was stronger than ever here, constantly churning and rushing past, biting at his skin. If he turned, he could even make out the barren plains they’d traveled on to reach here; the first plane had never been so expansive, so visible at once.

A rustling caught his attention, and Lazar turned to Ciel balancing on a nearby branch. Her hair whipped wildly in the wind, and she didn’t look remotely nervous despite how high up they were.

“That was extremely dangerous,” Lazar said. They were lucky there were branches strong enough to support their weight so high up.

The flesh eater raised an eyebrow, a sharp grin spreading across her features.

“Yeah? You’re smiling though.”

One of Lazar’s hands moved up to his face, and sure enough, he was. He lowered his hand again and realized it was shaking slightly. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins, an undeniable thrill seeping into him despite his more logical side reasoning that the climb had been unnecessarily risky and pointless.

Ciel chuckled. “Knew it. You were grinning when we were getting away from that tear, too. Who would’ve thought a seraph would like thrills so much.”

Lazar failed to suppress a snort, and soon enough, the two of them were laughing, their voices ringing out into the night and carried away by the wind. Like this, high up surrounded by the sky, the ground far beneath them, Lazar felt light—weightless. It was the closest he’d ever felt to flying since his fall.

“Congratulations, you have a hobby.” Ciel grinned lazily, leaning precariously back on her branch. “I’m guessing it wasn’t a new development.”

“I enjoyed flying quite a bit,” Lazar admitted. Now that the initial thrill was fading, it was replaced with a comfortable sensation. The wind felt like an old friend, and even if he no longer had his wings, he recognized this view.

The seraph closed his eyes, breathing in the air and letting himself focus entirely on the feeling of being so high up. His hold on the branch loosened a little, allowing himself to rest unanchored.

“What’s flying like?”

Grey eyes opened and shifted over to Ciel, who was facing away from him. The seraph hummed in contemplation.

“It’s hard to describe,” he said softly. “There’s nothing quite like it.” Slowly, he removed his grip on the tree, letting himself balance entirely on his feet atop the narrow branch. He spread his arms, allowing more wind to pass around him.

“It’s…freeing, I suppose, but I think it’s more than that.” He smiled a little. “When you’re up in the sky, it’s like seeing the world for the first time. You understand how vast and ungraspable it is, but at the same time, it never feels as easy to touch.”

Carefully, the seraph sat down atop the branch. “You feel completely in control and out of control at once. Everything is heightened, even your breathing. You feel more alive.”

Ciel was silent for a few moments, long enough for Lazar to turn in her direction. The demon was still peering down at the festivities far below them. She didn’t have wings, and from what the seraph had seen, it didn’t seem like she could fly with her flesh warping either. He frowned a little. It was likely she’d never flown before.

“…Have you ever wanted to fly?”

It took a while for the demon to respond. She shrugged.

“It is what it is,” she said simply. Lazar couldn’t distinguish any particular emotion in the words, and his brows furrowed. He shifted a little to better see her expression, but it was unreadable. Those uncanny golden eyes simply looked out into the sky, unblinking.

Lazar remembered what the flesh eater had said to Ilana along the cliffs, the apology Cassius had given her. It seemed that even after ascending up a plane, he still knew very little about the demon and her history.

“When you were sealed in that stone,” Lazar began slowly, words careful and hesitant, “What was it like?”

A stronger wind blew past, rattling the tree beneath them, but neither moved. Ciel shrugged.

“It didn’t mean much to me.”

The seraph frowned. “I can’t imagine being sealed away for so long. Surely it would be…”

“What, lonely?” Ciel snorted. She adjusted her position so that she leaned casually back against the tree trunk. “Nah, it didn’t really affect much. I know myself too well for that sort of isolation to matter.”

Her expression remained blank. In her pocket, the red cloth had come loose during the climb, and the demon tugged it out without looking, holding it by its center. The ends flared in the wind, and she absently rolled the piece around between her fingers.

“If you’d ever like to talk about something,” Lazar said slowly, “please let me know.”

From this angle, the seraph could see the demon smile.

“That’s definitely blasphemous.”

Lazar chuckled. “You’ve already done much to help me,” he pointed out. “And I doubt the standards are the same for fallen.”

Ciel simply hummed in response. Her fingers loosened, allowing the cloth to escape her grip. The red piece flew away, rippling and soaring in wild, arcing movements until it disappeared into the night sky, leaving just the two of them atop the tree and the Carran villagers far down below.

A comfortable silence settled over them. Lazar stared down at the festivities, listening to the distant laughter and music. For the first time in a long time, his mind felt clear and free of distractions.

And then, he felt it.

Below the tree, the air rippled. Lazar’s muscles tensed on instinct. The hole in his soul seemed to pulse, and his hand gripped at his chest automatically. Ciel, too, went still, the demon’s sharp gaze gleaming in the night.

Lazar didn’t look at his mark. Instead, his eyes were trained on the thin seam that appeared above the festival down below, a dark line splitting apart the air and slowly opening like a gaping wound. Inside was nothing but inky darkness. The air rippled again, a pervasive hollowness emanating from that empty void.

Screams arose, the villagers bursting into frenzied panic. Lazar’s fingers tightened around the halberd.

A tear.