Chapter 9 - Fallen's First

Part II — Lust

Saer summoned the Daemoenica after he and Neyu carried Lucifer to sag on Its throne. “Teach them, my Saerkhanum,” he’d been commanded. “And return here when you’re finished.”

Down one of the original corridors, Saer gathered patches of Hellsfire into a conglomerate immolation, a bonfire for the Seven to gather around. Neyu left to gather the rest.

The Twins arrived first and placed six boulders about the flames so they might all sit if so inclined. Only six, because Arek and Alus found an expansive one to share.

Greed and Gluttony lounged on their rocky slab, prodding and muttering under their collective breaths to one another. Arek punched Alus in the shoulder in response to some particular jibe, earning a full-throated, bestial laugh in return.

After so long a separation from his kin, the Twins brought a sense of familial lightheartedness to the rest of the Daemoenica by virtue of simply being. Saer held back the impulse to chuckle alongside them.

The fresh born Kalia plopped on a seat next, and Errshek beside her after a moment of indecision. Runeak stood near the fire, pushing and pulling on the blaze with her fingertips.

Saer looked at them each in turn, all Seven, gathered together at last. Runeak—Wrath, Arek and Alus—Greed and Gluttony, Errshek—Envy, and finally Kalia—Sloth.

Neyu—Lust—came last, and he watched her every elegant motion as her steps consumed the space between them.

She moved straight towards Pride, and he allowed instinct to take over, extending a clawed hand to his match. The squeezing anticipation in Saer’s chest lightened—even as his heart rate sped up—when she slid her palm over his. No hesitation.

Her nearness settled something within that enticed and terrified him all at once. Energy hummed in the stare they held, and it was Neyu who offered a reassuring and warm growl before turning towards their family.

“Have any but Areknar and I been to the surface?” Saer asked.

The Twins and Errshek shook their heads while Kalia propped her chin on her hand. Runeak didn’t grace him with any form of an answer.

Saer shifted his attention to Greed. “What did you teach them?”

Cynicism lifted one of Arek’s brows. “Everyone but Kalia knows what to expect.”

By what little attention Kalia gave them, she apparently didn’t care one way or the other. Arek’s vague answer still needled at him. “You discussed the environment, the cold, the absence of Hellsfire, the humans—”

“Eldest,” Alus’s warm voice stopped Saer, taking away the sting of any rudeness his interruption might have shown otherwise. “Violet gave us the best recounting he could.”

Arek’s lavender eyes rolled, the only indication that he didn’t appreciate his twin’s nickname, but still answered with brusque pragmatism. “I’ll tell Kalia what the others have heard if you fill in what I miss.”

Saer considered, then made an as-you-will gesture.

Arek angled towards the youngest Daemoenic, though his words found all their ears.

Odd, that Greed himself made an excellent teacher. Saer found minor points to clarify or add to, but the attention to detail Arek housed and relayed was nothing short of impressive.

Once his twin finished, Alus turned his focus on Saer. “Tell us the rest so we can get out of here and see it?”

The eager light in Gluttony’s expression reminded Saer of his particular sin, the desire for more. An abundance of more.

A soft noise lifted in the back of Saer’s throat, and he glanced at Neyu, squeezing her hand. “The aspects we’re made from—we can manipulate them when humans experience them, and use this advantage to take their spirits.” The memory of wrenching on Asheda’s pride played in his mind’s eye—the addicting power.

Neyu gave a slow nod.

“A human must promise their spirit to you before you can take it in death,” Saer finished, quieter.

Even Kalia perked a small amount. Errshek allowed a bitter laugh to escape him before cutting it off with more mumbling under his breath.

“Something to say, Errsheken?”

Envy scowled at Saer’s query, but Kalia answered for him. “He said he can’t wait to make humanity just as miserable as he is.”

The tattling earned her a wide-eyed look from Errshek. “You just got here. Really?”

Runeak remained unfazed through their bickering, endlessly staring into the central blaze. The Twins had taken to speaking in low tones, already strategizing.

Neyu gave Saer a gentle tug so she could nudge her nose to his jawline and murmur into his ear, “I feared I wouldn’t see you again.”

Saer’s eyes fluttered shut, but he didn’t allow any other emotion to show on his face. Instead, he curled his other arm across his body and rested his palm over hers, relishing the contact. He turned his face towards her, only enough so she could feel his breath on her cheek, hear the sincerity in his quiet words. “I missed you, too.”

“We will require human skins to infiltrate.” This deadpan musing came from Runeak. Saer pivoted his focus to her.

Runeak’s unwavering stare remained on the fire. “Creating our alternate forms will weaken him further.”

Him. Lucifer.

“And we’re responsible for and capable of restoring our maker,” Saer answered. “The energy will be returned.”

Runeak offered a subtle head tilt, hardly discernible in the flickering firelight. “He could subsume the youngest ones. They contribute little.”

Errshek sputtered, voice cracking. “You refuse any help I offer! Neyu is the only one who accepts me at her side.”

So, that was why Errshek accompanied Neyu upon his arrival. Saer shot a glance her way, though Lust only carried a sad smile on her lips for Envy.

Runeak answered without thought or feeling, “Because you are not good at it.”

“And should they be insufficient to restore our maker, are you volunteering as the next in line, Runeakael?” Saer didn’t hide his impatience.

Neyu touched Saer’s elbow and she shifted forward, partway between the First and the Fifth. “Stop.” The demoness moved further so she could rest a reassuring hand on Errshek’s tense shoulder. “There’ll be no sacrifices today. Errshek is as eager to please as the rest of us.” She lifted her other hand and touched Kalia’s jaw in a calming gesture. “Kalia hasn’t been given opportunity. Regardless, these are not our calls to make.”

Wrath made a noncommittal noise as though it mattered little, but Saer knew for Runeak to back down from confrontation, respect must hold strong.

Errshek gazed upon Neyu with relieved thanks. He moved to touch her hand on his shoulder, but Neyu returned to Saer’s side.

Envy curled his claw into a fist, a hint of resentment pinching the Sixth’s face.

Easy enough for Saer to dismiss.

“Errsheken, you will go with Kaliaspher.”

Errshek’s lower jaw jutted forward, displeased, but he nodded as Kalia stretched out next to him.

Saer pivoted to the Twins next, the obvious pair, but Alus half-chuckled and waved him off. “We got it, Boss.”

Fighting his own smirk, Saer shifted his gaze to Runeak who shook her head. “I require no partner.”

Precisely as he’d hoped. A fluttering swirled in his stomach as he turned his attention to Neyu. She offered a soft incline of the head, and it was all he needed.

* * *

The Daemoenica knelt at the foot of Lucifer’s dais.

Though high above and slumped over Its throne, Lucifer’s voice carried to them like a flutter of dark butterfly wings. “I require blood from each of you to complete your secondary forms.”

Neyu stilled next to him. A small, frightened sound escaped Kalia. Or was it Errshek?

Lucifer shifted to lean on the opposite arm of Its magnificent throne. “My Daemoenica, I had hoped—” Their maker stopped to catch Its breath. “You are the first of my army. One day, you will command others, and we will take back the Heavens. To do that, you all must learn to fight.”

A spike of anxiety threaded up Saer’s spine. Lucifer alluded to such before, when he’d commanded Runeak to construct the arena. He’d forgotten.

The fallen angel lifted Its chin to the sparring ring behind them. “Saerkhanum, as my First and their leader, you will begin.”

Saer’s brow furrowed. “You wish us to fight one another, Master?”

“Each will fight you, one after the other.”

Anxiety spiraled into gut-churning dread, warring with the innate need to please his maker. One after the other, which meant Neyu—

“Step into the ring, my Saerkhanum.”

He bit back his growl, rising and approaching the ring’s edge.

Runeak’s expansive, circular arena boasted endless swathes of gray stone, serving as both floor and border which she’d polished to a fine sheen. Pillars of ever-burning flames stood at four sites around the circle, casting heat and dancing shadows. Further patches of fire lined the sparring ring, brightening the space beyond the usual shadows of Hell.

“Kaliaspher,” Lucifer called.

Saer shut his eyes.

“You will go against Saerkhanum first.”

Saer’s ash-skinned, littlest sister shuffled into the ring with a fearful eye on Saer, her body language closed off and slumped.

“Begin,” Lucifer said.

They’d taken an oath to obey.

They began.

Saer lunged forward at half-speed, and Kalia shrieked, ducking and rolling with little grace. He pivoted in an attempt to snare her leg, and she kicked out and away. Sloth herself evaded more than fought, but put Saer through his paces, showing him the advantage of her diminutive—in comparison to his—size. The First’s experiences with violence had been brief and deplorable, and he didn’t want to harm her. Kalia held no concept of tactics, nor etiquette.

The opening moments of their clash proved staggered, hesitant, and graceless.

“Stop.”

The First and the Seventh ceased immediately, and raised their gazes to Lucifer’s glowering. The lines in their maker’s face etched deep, Its eyes bled to the black of midnight, and a shiver coursed up Saer’s back.

“You will fight one another in truth, or you will be unmade.” The hiss in Lucifer’s voice crawled under his skin. “Say you understand.”

“I understand, Master,” Saer said.

“Both of you.”

Kalia twitched and whimpered. “I understand, Master.”

The fallen angel made a sharp, dismissive gesture. “Begin.”

This time, neither held back.

Saer dealt a blow before long, catching Sloth with a closed fist to her throat. She gagged and tumbled back, stumbling to the opposite end of the arena. The littlest sister stared at her oldest brother in horrified disbelief.

It was the first time a Daemoenic struck another, and the echo of the blow reverberated in Saer’s stomach.

Saer and Kalia, together, discovered how to use their fists and the blunt pressure of their hooves to smash against flesh and bone. The arena echoed with their grunts, roars, and snarls. Blood spilled from her mouth where she’d bitten her own lips and tongue. She managed to clip Saer’s temple with a hoof’s edge. Crimson fluid flowed off the side of his face.

Saer ended the skirmish when he thrust Kalia onto her back, crushing her sternum with one knee. He forced all his weight and strength against her ribcage until she gasped under him. “Enough, I yield, please!”

The First glanced at the fallen angel for affirmation. After a pregnant pause, Lucifer nodded, and Saer stood.

“To me, Kaliaspher,” Lucifer called.

The Seventh staggered out of the arena and slogged up the dais steps, curled over her ribs. Before she’d made it to Lucifer, It summoned another opponent, allowing no time for Saer to rest. “Errsheken, enter the ring.”

“Begin,” Lucifer repeated.

Saer found the olive-eyed Errshek an even simpler adversary than his younger sister—perhaps due to Envy’s obvious insecurities. The Sixth second-guessed every move he made in comparison to Saer’s innate confidence.

After learning of the others’ dismissal of him—aside from Neyu—Envy’s demeanor made even more sense.

With Errshek, Saer discovered the penetrating powers of his claws, talons, and teeth. He left his little brother bloodied within minutes.

Envy managed a lucky blow when he flailed about, jabbing the sharpest end of a wing talon into the First’s eye, spurring a bloodthirsty roar. Saer lunged and pierced into the end of Envy’s stabbing wing with his claws, grasped, then snapped the delicate appendage like a twig. The resulting scream sickened him, despite their brief, if tumultuous bond.

He ignored the surge of bile in his throat.

Through his trial with Errshek, Saer learned the importance and intricacies of defense, though it cost him his eye for the rest of his matches. He received further bites and clawing scratches before recognizing Envy’s technique enough to dodge and deflect. By the time he pinned his youngest brother in much the same way he’d done Kalia, the First’s chest heaved.

He gained no pleasure from it, much as the Sixth irritated him on his best day.

The scene played out just as before. Saer forced Errshek’s verbal admission of defeat, then looked to the fallen angel for permission to relent.

Atop the dais, Lucifer bent over Kalia, sweeping Its fingers over her face and collecting her blood to consume and regain strength.

To mold their second forms, Saer realized.

After an indulgent swallow and licking of Its lips, their maker beckoned to the bloodied Sixth. “To me, Errsheken. Runeakael, enter the ring.”

Their maker went in ascending order, which meant Neyu would be the last called against him. Perhaps if he could prove his fighting prowess before then…

The instant Runeak prowled into the arena, her desire to prove herself—despite her place in line—ricocheted between them. The crimson-skinned, jet-eyed demoness growled her challenge as the two locked eyes.

Saer harbored no desire to fight any of his kin, but the blatant yearning for confrontation bled from Wrath and goaded him.

“Begin,” Lucifer said.

The two battled for hours. Gnashing claws, hooves, and teeth drew splashes of ruby ichor, falling in runnels on their sweat-soaked bodies. Runeak’s cries of rage and Saer’s screams of defiance spurred quiet chuckles of chilling delight from their maker. The combatants ripped into one another’s wings, breaking them at the joints and tearing open the thick membranes. Wrath refused to bend, fueled by limitless fury.

Whenever Saer slammed Runeak on the ground and demanded she lie still, the Fifth stood and returned the favor.

By the time Saer threw Runeak down and she remained where she lay, he swayed where he stood, having given almost everything to emerge the victor.

Without pause, Lucifer commanded the Sixth and Seventh to bring Runeak up the dais.

To Saer’s exhausted horror, the ruby demoness snarled and struggled against Errshek and Kalia as they lifted her, demanding to continue the fight. The harsh glare of Lucifer silenced Wrath, convincing her to join the younger Daemoenica without further rebuke.

Saer expected one of the Third or Fourth to come next. Expectation leaked into disbelief when Lucifer lifted Its voice. “Areknar and Alustar, enter the ring.”

Both the Twins.

Lucifer’s smile carried into Its command as It held a hand out to Runeak at the peak of the dais. “Begin.”

Sheer force of will kept Saer from succumbing to the Twins’ dual assault. Alus lunged for Saer’s front while Arek leapt on his back, snagging his horns to prevent their razor-sharp ends from lacerating or bludgeoning their flesh. Alus’s hooves beat into Saer’s gut while his hands reached up to join his mirror’s, grasping onto the downward curving horns. Both sets of palms gripped the silver appendages, paralyzing Saer’s movement from the neck up.

He snarled and dropped backward, crushing Arek’s body. His grip loosened.

Saer tumbled sideways to do the same to Alus, clawing at his front. When Saer struck, the twin didn’t scream or cry. He laughed instead—exactly as he’d done the moment he’d taken his first breath. The reaction threw Pride off balance, allowing the opposite brother, Greed, an opening to strike fresh. Sharp talons and hooves bent up to meet ichorous, broken hooves.

More blood spilled.

The fight continued.

When the scrimmage finished and Saer held his two brothers by their horns, he stood bloodied and mauled beyond recognition. He brought Alus and Arek’s heads together and interlocked their spiral horns, dropping them to the floor in a rasping, sticky mess.

Arek moaned.

Alus chuckled, though it came tinged with well-earned exhaustion.

Saer took two shaking steps, then collapsed to a trembling kneel. “Master, I understand the need for this exercise.” He coughed and spat blood. “I thank you for what it has taught me but...I can endure no more.”

He’d fought all, save one. That one, he wished to spare.

The fallen angel watched Its creation with intense interest, then made an upward motion with Its fingers. “Stand.”

He complied, albeit with slow, agonized movements, every muscle crying for rest.

“Come to me.”

Saer shoved his groan below inherent pride and made the arduous trek up Lucifer’s dais. At the foot of Its throne, he slumped to a graceless kneel. Daemoenic blood painted the stone surrounding Lucifer’s feet where Runeak had recently vacated.

So many pieces of his body ached, bones shattered, flesh torn—he couldn’t focus on one wound or trauma. His world had become pain.

The fallen angel leaned over and placed divine hands on either side of Saer’s head, absorbing more crimson stains into Its alabaster skin. The First’s blood mingled with his kin’s, painting Lucifer’s lips when they brushed against his flesh as It whispered, “I have a secret to tell you, a gift to share.”

Saer shuddered, but other than his ragged breathing, he didn’t respond. Lucifer’s touch healed and hurt all at once—exquisite agony.

“As my First, you hold power over all of them. This is the hierarchy I have built.”

Saer’s mind couldn’t grasp what Lucifer tried to convey. Hierarchy?

“You will fight my Neyuukhan next.”

Saer’s stomach dropped.

I don’t want to.

“Yes, Master.” Saer’s voice came slick with blood, fighting to keep emotion out of his voice—the feeling that his heart tore in two.

“Concentrate on her essence with your mind. When the time is right, set it ablaze.”

A sliver of relief dared to worm its way into his heart. Fire wouldn’t hurt her. She’d be okay, if compelled.

Right?

He swallowed. “Yes, Master.”

“Good, my child.” Lucifer kissed Saer’s forehead, and the sensation sent a thrill through him. “Return to the ring. Begin when I say.”

Saer’s head sagged more than nodded. Somehow, he gathered his legs under him and made it back to the ring without falling down the dais steps. The Twins passed him along the way, ascending to pay their penance for human shells.

Neyu waited for him, beautiful and savage.

His perfect match.

Saer balanced most of his weight on the least injured leg, one eye fused shut with caked blood and vitreous humor. Back hunched, his claws curled into loose fists at his sides. His gaze met Neyu’s irresistible, darker one, reflecting solemn resolution. She gave a half shake of her head, as though to communicate something.

The sin he’d been made from coerced Saer to prod. “Don’t go easy on me.”

The corner of the demoness’s mouth twitched.

“Begin,” Lucifer said.

They lunged at the same moment.

The demoness did as Saer requested. She wore down the First with a furious barrage of kicks and thrusts of fists, knees, and elbows. One of her hooves slammed into Saer’s damaged ankle, the sickening sounds of crunching bone almost covered by his roar. Neyu shoved the nails of her right hand into his chest and pushed Pride onto his back, knocking the breath out of him.

She wasted no time, pinning him down with a straddle. “Yield, Saer.”

Saer clung to every sliver of self-assuredness in his core as his hands gripped Neyu’s wrists. His lungs struggled for air, but he still managed to speak between wheezes. “Stand down, Neyu.”

The demoness leaned closer until the ends of their noses touched. Her lips pulled back to reveal shining canines, and her growl shuddered through Saer. “You are at your limit, Saer. End this.”

Saer clenched his jaw and attempted to throw Neyu from his torso. The Second redoubled her efforts, lacing her fingers through his and pinning his arms beside his head. She snarled at the eldest of the Daemoenica with a hint of desperation. “Yield!”

Pride’s clawed hands squeezed Lust’s. “If you won’t stand down, Neyu, I’ll force you to.”

Her gaze met his in challenge.

Saer shut his one good eye and did as Lucifer commanded. He focused on Neyu’s essence, pictured his right as the First above all other Daemoenica—and shoved fire into her core. Set it ablaze, his maker had said, and he reassured himself once more. Fire couldn’t hurt his kin. Fire healed them—

Neyu jolted above Saer with a sharp inhale, her hands releasing his.

Then she screamed.

Shrieking and writhing, Neyu flung herself off him.

Neyu’s howl went on until a fierce, yet gentle voice commanded from atop the dais. “That is sufficient, Saerkhanum.”

Saer blinked to find his counterpart curled into a ball several feet away, steam rising from her whimpering body. He didn’t remember letting her go, nor did he recall standing.

“Neyu,” he whispered, his throat suddenly tight.

“She’s well. You didn’t hold her long enough to do any permanent damage. Don’t move, Saerkhanum.”

He gulped.

“It’s a powerful gift and my way of maintaining order. You’re my First, and so not only may you wield it upon Neyuukhan, but the others as well.”

The rest of the Daemoenica shifted from their stances around the ring, looking at one another.

Saer nodded, uncertainty coiled around his insides as he stared at Neyu’s trembling body. “And you, Master?”

“I, Saerkhanum?”

He licked his cracked lips and tasted blood. “You could do it to me?”

“Of course. But I’m the only one, my child. Just as Neyuukhan can only perform such a deed to those below you, and not you.”

“If I hadn’t ceased the focus—”

“She would have been consumed by flames and reduced to ashes, Saerkhanum.”

Fear spiked, cold and horrifying in Saer’s chest as Lucifer continued Its elucidation. “This power is for unmaking. You may also invoke any Daemoenic true name to command them—orders which they cannot decline, so long as they are below you in the hierarchy.”

He licked his lips once more, not sure how to respond, and therefore asked a different question. “May I go to her?”

The fallen angel paused long enough for Saer to stop breathing, then, “You may.”

Saer unfroze and approached the Second with caution. When Saer’s limping hooves stood at her side, he knelt and whispered, “Neyu.”

She made a quiet noise and rushed to sit. Neyu shuffled away, keeping her gaze lowered in submission.

“Neyu?”

The demoness rose and dashed from the ring.

Lucifer’s pleased voice echoed from Its throne. “Thus is the price of leadership, my First. Come to me so I may heal your wounds.”