69. Demonic Ties
Isaac processed multiple things at once.
There was Olzu, tiny body falling limply towards the earth, exhaustion having finally taken over.
There was Sharil waiting behind the finish line, eyes widening as her own wings spread and she surged forward, one arm outstretched towards Olzu, but she was too far away to make it.
There was the feeling of his foot slipping as he stepped forward automatically, sinking into a floorless descent.
There was Casimir, watching silently on the sidelines, not moving a muscle as he looked on with cold, dispassionate eyes.
There was a yanking sensation, the feeling of his own body being tugged by the collar of his shirt and shoved backwards from the edge just as he began to tip over.
There was the flash of red fabric as Fable stepped forward, scarf streaming behind them, and they slipped off one of those red gloves, revealing a hand that was withered, cracked, and colorless, wrinkled and twisted like a rotted piece of driftwood.
There was the golden light emanating from the palm of that outstretched, crumbling hand, mirrored by a similar golden glow enveloping Olzu’s falling body and catching his tiny form within the light.
There was the sharp, stinging pain shooting through Isaac’s head as he watched that light, piercing as a blade being twisted into his skull.
There was the feeling of stumbling, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to stay conscious as the sudden wave of pain subsided. His vision was blurry, and he gripped his forehead, willing it to clear. As soon as he could make out a few silhouettes, he focused his attention on where Olzu was, still lying inside the sphere of golden light, which steadily drifted over to the healer’s area before sinking down and away from view.
Without thinking, Isaac stomped on the ground 4 times, and the pillar dropped. The moment it hit the earth, stirring up clouds of loose dirt, he hurried outside the booth and ran towards the healing area, only catching a brief flash of red from the corner of his eye as Fable tugged their glove back on.
—
There was already a small crowd forming by the time Isaac made it there, though a majority of the people gathered looked more curious than concerned. He shoved his way through and stepped into the area proper, where Olzu, now free from the golden sphere, was lying unconscious on one of the benches. Rosalinde was already there, to Isaac’s relief, and he jogged up to her.
“Is he okay?” he asked, slightly breathless from running over so fast.
Rosalinde turned to face him and gave him a reassuring smile. “He’s alright. It seems to be primarily exhaustion. He was caught before he could sustain any significant injuries beyond a few bruises. With some rest, he should be back to normal soon enough.”
Isaac breathed a sigh of relief, the tension bleeding from his muscles all at once. He rubbed his head, where he could still feel a lingering dull throb from the earlier pain. “That’s good,” he muttered. He suddenly felt a bit foolish, for having run down this quickly despite seeing the light catch Olzu. He was all too aware of the stares of the onlookers.
The crowd behind them stirred, and he turned just in time to see Sharil soaring down from above, massive wings naturally commanding space. There was no real way for her to land comfortably in the confined healing area, so she hovered down as much as possible, eyes fixed on Olzu in concern.
“He’s fine.” Isaac answered the unspoken question. “Rosalinde says he’s just tired.”
Sharil looked doubtful, but after scrutinizing the unconscious demon herself for a few more seconds, she relaxed fractionally. “I didn’t think he’d ever try to fly again,” she muttered, eyes flickering over to the demon’s small wings. “He looks tired,” she commented.
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Isaac shifted his weight. “That’s…my fault. I told him to compete and helped him practice last night. That’s why he’s so exhausted.”
“I helped as well,” Rosalinde added in a gentle voice, likely trying to make Isaac feel better, though it didn’t really help. He still appreciated the sentiment.
Sharil frowned, and her eyes narrowed slightly. “Why would you suggest that?”
Isaac winced. “I, uh.” He paused, trying to find the words to explain. “I overheard him talking to Casimir, though I guess it was more like Casimir was talking to him. He kept bringing up the flight competition, so after he left, I told Olzu to join and prove him wrong.” Looking back on it, he’d probably been projecting his own irritation with the angel onto Olzu, hadn’t he? His jaw snapped shut and he waited in silence for Sharil’s judgement. When none came, he looked up and was surprised to see not anger, but a thoughtful expression on the demon’s face.
“I see,” she murmured. She glanced over at Olzu, sleeping on the bench. “I should’ve known.” She shook her head. “I’m not mad at you, Isaac, only disappointed that neither of you decided to tell me.” Despite her words, there was enough lingering tension in her shoulders and hands for him to have some doubts.
Isaac shifted his weight. “He was really nervous about that. Kept saying you’d stop him. I think he was worried about making you mad.”
Sharil furrowed her brow, but just as she opened her mouth to respond, she suddenly paused and turned around. Isaac followed her gaze, watching as the crowd parted, people instinctively stepping aside to form a pathway for the figure that was approaching. His eyes widened when he recognized Lucius.
In all the time he’d spent in the Underside, Isaac had never seen the demon outside of the Inferno. It felt disorienting to see him here, in such a crowded, colorful area. It was at once both too messy and yet too mundane for him.
Away from the cavern, his dark red skin and black sclera stood out more prominently. Lucius maintained an aura of calm authority as he flew closer, one that didn’t demand attention through intensity, but drew it out with assuredness. He’d always had that presence around him, but it felt much more prominent outside the confines of the Inferno.
Sharil bowed as the man flew closer, though he simply waved at her in assurance that it wasn’t necessary. He frowned, flying over to Olzu. “Has he woken up yet?” he asked. It was something of a relief to hear the man speak in his usual amiable tone, just to confirm he was indeed the same person, Inferno or not.
Isaac shook his head. “No, not yet.”
Lucius hummed. He turned and glanced back at the curious crowd. It wasn’t particularly sharp, just a simple look, but instantly the spectators dispersed, leaving him, Isaac, Sharil, Rosalinde, and Olzu alone in the healing area.
“He was practicing flying,” Sharil said. She finally flew down, landing on the ground with a light thud now that there was enough space available.
“Is that so?” Lucius looked at the unconscious demon with a thoughtful expression.
Just then, Olzu’s forehead twitched. Isaac stepped a little closer as the demon rolled over sluggishly with a groan, struggling under the weight of his own sleepiness. His wings fluttered a few times, and finally, his eyes opened and he shot up in realization.
“The race!” he exclaimed, turning his head in a frenzy, not quite seeing what was really there. “I have to finish the race!”
“You need rest,” Sharil cut in. Ah, there was definitely anger there. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?”
Olzu winced and stared down at his lap, ears drooping. “…didn’t want you to tell me not to,” he muttered. His wings flapped a few times, their movements notably shakier, which Olzu himself seemed to realize as he slumped further in on himself.
“Olzu.” Lucius suddenly spoke. The demon’s head snapped up, and his eyes widened as he finally noticed the man. He made a little shrieking noise followed by sputtering.
“Oh my goodness, Lord Lucius, I’m so terribly sorry, I didn’t notice you sir! I’m such a pathetic excuse of a demon, to make your excellency come here because of my own incompetence, what was I thinking, I never should have, I—“
“You did well.”
“—should never be allowed to show my face again and—“ Olzu froze, mouth hanging open as Lucius’s words finally clicked. His voice raised an octave. “Uh, what?”
Lucius chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and he sat down on the bench beside Olzu. “You did well, Olzu. I’m proud of you.”
Olzu blinked, then again, then again as he struggled to process the words. Sharil shook her head, and the tension lingering in her muscles finally released as she sighed.
“If you’d told me, I could’ve helped you,” she said.
Olzu’s mouth quivered. Isaac took a few steps back, sensing that he was intruding on something private. He saw Rosalinde turn away to busy herself with her medical supplies, and he, too, found himself quickly stepping away from the area.
His legs moved practically of their own accord, and as he listened to the now muffled sounds of Olzu’s sniffles and Lucius and Sharil’s quiet reassurances, he got the sudden urge to run away as far as possible. He absolutely couldn’t stay there, had to get away from that place no matter what. The thought kept repeating itself in his head, over and over as he continued moving without direction.
And so, he kept walking, leaving the three demons behind and pushing forward with a singular, hazy purpose.