Chapter 28 - Fallen's First

Saer settled into a familiar pattern of conversation after several hesitant starts, staying away from uncomfortable or sensitive topics. He relayed tales of where he’d ventured in the world and lessons learned. Alus entertained as he prepared various dishes to taste and experience, regaling Saer with tidbits of information on how the food was grown, picked, or prepared. He touched on the most superfluous of details: the quirks of the farmers who tended the fields, the names of their family members—even who they shared their beds with. The humble kitchen in the corner of the adobe saturated with rich, redolent aromas.

Saer came to the point of finding the Twins when Arek broke in from his side of the table. “You realize you could have found us quicker by wing as opposed to boat?” He’d long since stopped eating, allowing Alus and Saer to get their fill, though his fingers wrapped around a ceramic mug topped with freshly squeezed orange juice.

Saer fell to staring at his own mug. Alus, surprisingly, didn’t fill the void, but allowed time to consider his answer—or whether he’d answer at all.

He cleared his throat. “She’s easier to remember when I wear this skin.”

In truth, he had a hard time understanding it himself. Another human thing?

Alus resumed his quiet humming as he gathered dishes despite the heavier air settling around the kitchen table.

Drumming his fingers on his mug, Saer turned to Arek. “During Runeakael’s last battle, some of the humans wielded ice and warded fire.”

Arek’s expression shifted to curiosity. “You saw magic.”

Saer narrowed his eyes, brow furrowing.

The trademark smirk on Greed’s face spoke volumes. “Ignorance is the price you pay for staying away from home.”

Impatience, above all, punctuated Saer’s glare. “I haven’t had a home since Neyu died.”

Alus broke between the two with a finger snap, rupturing the tension. “Cobras and mongooses have more levity between them than the two of you. You.” Alus pointed at his twin, earning a humorless stare. “Stop acting superior. You.” The finger swung towards Saer. “Quit pouting.”

“I’m not pouting.”

Alus ignored Saer’s lie and ended with an as-you-will gesture at Arek. “Tell him about magic, Gorgeous. Without the sniping commentary.” The amiable twin spun back around to fill a basin with water.

Saer paused in muted disbelief, trying to figure out how Alus handled two sensitive, posturing males with such grace, and remained just as likable after the fact.

Arek grunted before returning to the conversation at hand. “Mages are created from a lineage touched by the Grandfather in one way or another.”

Saer shook his head. “You’ve lost me.”

“You’ve seen the Draconic take human form?”

He nodded.

“They can make children with humans. Their blood carries the magic.”

The realization and implications must have shown on Saer’s face, because Alus glanced over, then filled in some of the blanks. “Not all these humans carry the talent. Sometimes the strength of their powers seems to correlate with closer proximity to the original source—but not always.”

“So, a direct descendant of the Draconic might have more…magic?” The word tasted odd on Saer’s tongue.

Gluttony shrugged and brought over three smaller mugs holding a deep and rich brown concoction within. “They’re rare enough. We haven’t figured out all the ins and outs yet.” He set the mugs on the countertop, drawing Saer’s focus.

“What in the Hells is this?”

Alus’s smirk somehow carried more good humor than Arek’s, even if it should have looked the same. He plucked up Saer’s hand, then stuck one of the small mugs in his palm. “This comes from cacao beans. It’s delicious. Indulge me.”

Saer cocked an eyebrow and lifted the mug to his nose, taking an experimental sniff.

Arek lifted his own. “He’s right about this one, Eldest. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Alus repeated.

Saer angled his head, then sipped.

He couldn’t remember tasting anything so decadent in his life. Saer’s eyes shut, reveling in the thick, all-encompassing taste. As the sumptuous liquid flowed over the back of his tongue, it reminded him of the sin Neyu had been made from. Bittersweet, and never enough.

He sighed at the end, licking the remnants from his lower lip.

How did Alus know precisely what to do, and offer, to make everything better with the world?

“Neyu would have loved this,” Saer whispered before he could think twice.

The Twins nodded, for once a sober expression on both their faces.

Saer took a heartbeat to consider. Gluttony kept bringing them to common ground, balancing his inherent frustration and antagonistic nature.

But he couldn’t remain in the comfort zone.

Saer pivoted to Greed. “Do you know where Errshek is?”

Arek met Saer’s gaze, neither denying nor conceding. “Tell me why you search for him.”

Something between ire and annoyance pinched Saer’s chest, but Arek went on, “It’s important to me—”

On the other side of the table, Alus made a noise.

“To us...to know why,” Arek amended.

Gluttony gave Greed a subtle thumbs up and then gathered the mugs to resume his clean up.

“It’s his fault Neyu is dead.”

“How do you know that?” Arek asked.

Saer scowled. “He as good as admitted it after the fact.”

Arek drummed fingertips on his mug, frowning. “You don’t think there’s more to that story?”

“What are you suggesting you know, Areknar?”

Ever the phlegmatic one, Arek didn’t flinch under Saer’s burning stare. “I know there’s plenty of blame to go around for Neyu’s unmaking.”

Errshek had gotten to them. He must have.

“Be careful with your insinuations.”

Alus cut in as he dried a plate with a rag. “My Lord Hubris, much as it must pain you, not everything is about you.” By tone alone, he managed to speak the words without insult. “Ney made her own choices. She had a very good understanding of the consequences to those choices and she followed her heart anyway—if you’ll excuse the very human turn of phrase.”

The corner of Saer’s eyes flinched. If it weren’t for the sin he’d been created from, he would have lowered his gaze, even though no judgment registered in Alus’s expression. He’d never spoken with the Twins, or indeed any of the Daemoenica, about his connection with Neyu. Word must have gotten around, one way or another.

He wasn’t surprised, but a sense of violation and resentment came with the knowledge. What he and Neyu had, he wanted to be theirs, and theirs alone.

Something must have given away his rumination, or perhaps Alus was just that good at deciphering a train of thought. Gluttony put the final dish away and leaned on the kitchen table towards Saer. “No one will ever be able to take away what the two of you had, no matter how Father came to know about it.”

“Nor will killing another of us make your anguish disappear,” Arek added.

“It will balance the scales,” Saer growled.

Arek’s lips thinned. “What is it you really want, Saer?”

The word ‘revenge’ stuck in his throat as Arek regarded him with remarkable depth. “I want her back,” Saer murmured instead.

The apathetic expression on Arek’s face cracked, like crystal on stone. “You are closer to Neyu than any of us will ever be again, Eldest.”

“Pieces of her live in you,” Alus explained before Saer had a chance to ask the question. He and Arek shared a knowing glance before he finished, “They’re easy to see for those of us who knew her.”

The confusion must have read on his face because Alus smiled and continued, “At one point in time, I might have referred to you as ‘Ice King.’ It doesn’t suit you as well as it once did.” He tipped his head. “At least, not always. Whether it’s because you learned or subsumed it from our former Queen of the Hells, her influence is there. Quite frankly, makes you more bearable.”

Saer would never understand how Alus could say such things to any one of them and manage to keep from getting socked in the face. He’d discovered he absorbed her power over lust—which he continued to quash under a sea of bitterness—but he hadn’t noticed if he took more when he unmade Neyu.

What if—

“What if it can be taken out?” The question left him, a lightning bolt of childish inspiration.

Mirrored alarm registered on the Twins’ faces. “What?” “Why?” They responded at the exact same time.

Saer tapped his chest. “Take her out of me. Bring her back.” His voice rose as the idea grew. “Surely our maker can create her again with what’s leftover?”

“It doesn’t work that way—” Arek began.

“Why in the Hells not?”

Arek leaned away.

Alus raised his hands in a ‘surrender’ gesture. “Because, Don Quixote—”

“Donkey-what?”

Alus waved the words away, dismissing Saer’s inquiry. “Even if Father could do that, it wouldn’t be her. It would have her gifts, her talents, but the memories and experiences, everything which made her someone we all cared for...” Alus allowed the sentence to trail off.

Saer’s mind raced in too many directions to form one cohesive thought. “How can you two let her go so easily?”

Alus’s solemn smile betrayed his feelings as he reached forward and laid a hand over Saer’s. He almost jerked back, but Alus squeezed, and something reassuring in the contact stilled him. “We haven’t, Romeus. We remember with fondness. I might suggest we spend a night doing exactly that.”

The glint of mischief in Alus’s gaze made him narrow his eyes with suspicion. “I’m reluctant to ask what you have in mind.”

“Did you know it is possible for the Daemoenica to get drunk?” Alus asked.

Off to the side, Arek released a sharp breath. “Oh, Hells.”

* * *

Gluttony led the trio outside and pointed them in the direction of the market as the sun set over the clay brick town, casting rich ember hues across the landscape.

Merchants had covered their carts with leathers and skins for the evening, tucking them away in favor of flickering, fiery torches. Evening entertainers made their way up and down the street. Ladies of the night and young, sculpted boys with outfits that left little to the imagination approached the entourage of demons. Arek kept his head down and hands in his pockets, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Saer followed suit, growling and jerking away from their unwanted touches.

Alus’s tactic proved just as effective, though more welcoming in its dismissal.

When caresses glided over his bare arm, the twin smiled and slid his hand over the owner’s, lacing his fingers through theirs. Lifting their knuckles up to his inviting lips, Gluttony kissed, then drew the offending humans in close and spoke low into their ears, “Thank you, lovely. We’re in a hurry.”

The first time he did this, Saer noted the ear Alus whispered into curved into a fine point at the tip, different from any human he’d ever seen. He made a mental note to inquire about it once his irritation abated.

Alus then released them to make sense of their own fluttering heartbeat and lightheadedness.

Twice this happened with women. The third, a youthful man. The outcome went unchanged.

The lust emanating from each lodged in the back of Saer’s throat, choking, intoxicating, and infuriating. He refuted the reminder of what he’d taken from Neyu, hated the villagers for pressing it into him with such ferocity.

By the time Alus rejected his final offender, Saer’s agitation threatened to boil over. On ships, in Runeak’s camp, and amongst the environments he’d been in immediately after Neyu’s demise, he avoided her aspect. Manipulating lust wasn’t a thing he’d practiced. The sheer rawness felt wilder than the pride he knew firsthand. Too late, Saer realized he should have spent time refining the sin rather than ignoring it.

He wielded a weapon he’d never laid eyes on before, let alone touched, and it threatened to gut him.

“Almost there, Boss.” Gluttony provided the reassurance with a sharp clap to Pride’s shoulder.

True to his word, music amplified with their approach. Thick and dramatic tribal drums paired with lively wind instruments in an upbeat tune. Amidst the jovial shouts and laughter, Alus’s eyes shone in anticipation as they drew closer—in contrast to Arek’s disinterest.

Saer harbored skepticism more than anything. He was no stranger to human celebrations, though he didn’t tend to partake.

The crowd thickened. Makeshift tables stood in random places in an open dirt square. A band played to one side while a small group of carousers danced and clapped. Standing torches lit the space with uneven ribbons of flame and shadow.

Saer’s gaze caught on one of the young men slapping his palms upon drums. The auricles of his ears also extended to points.

He parted his lips to ask, but Alus curled his hands by his mouth to make a shout better heard, calling over one of the humans handing out receptacles filled with spirits in exchange for coin. Once the woman locked eyes with Gluttony, her face glowed. She approached and Alus grasped her wrist, pulling her close so the lengths of their bodies touched. He bent and whispered something to her, and she giggled.

Arek rolled his eyes, then busied himself locating a poorly fashioned stool to sit upon in front of one of the tables.

Sending the woman off with a brush of lips to her cheek, Alus found two other stools and thrust them upon the ground in front of their proclaimed table. He slammed his palm down on one. “Crown Prince of Conceit, your throne.”

Saer glanced at Arek. “He never lets up, does he?”

“No,” came Arek’s deadpan reply.

Alus, being Alus, smiled and waited.

Saer pulled the proffered stool his way with a grunt and sat at the same time as Alus, so the three demons formed a triangle about the small table.

Alus raised his voice over the drums and surrounding partygoers. “What we’re about to teach you, we discovered alongside our Lady Ardor herself.”

Recognizing the nickname for Neyu, Saer leaned forward, letting the silence speak for him.

“We”—Saer could tell by the way Alus said the word, he referred to himself and his twin only—“had never stopped to think about why our bodies aren’t as affected by spirits as humans are. But she was always more clever than the rest of us put together.”

Saer thought many times over that, while he could pick up on things quicker than most, Neyu embodied curiosity and ingenuity. He solved problems out of necessity, but she tackled puzzles for amusement. His love often accused him of being too serious, of needing more fun in his life. He’d told her she was the fun in his life.

No longer.

The memory ached inside his ribcage like yesterday’s bruise.

“Red and I took her to a gathering not unlike this one, centuries back. I made mention of the spirits, how they can make you feel…lightheaded? Rocky? But only if consuming a substantial amount at an alarming rate. Even then, the feeling doesn’t stick around.”

The twin paused for so long that Saer’s lip pulled back in a snarl. “Well?”

Alus laughed and Arek took over. “Neyu pointed out the drink can be lit ablaze and disappear shortly thereafter. She made the connection to the natural fire in our blood and suggested we, for lack of a better word, burn through it too quickly to feel much of anything.”

The dark-haired beauty from earlier sashayed to their table and unloaded a tray of three tall receptacles, each with a sloshing, golden-brown fluid inside. Alus graced her with another kiss to the cheek, rewarded with a faint blush before the girl went on her way.

Saer reached to take the beverage and studied the contents within while musing, “We can’t change what we are.”

“No,” said Alus. “But we can change our internal temperatures without too much fuss, so long as there’s a place to shove that heat.”

Saer frowned and took turns glancing between Alus and Arek. “You’re suggesting we weaken ourselves? To get drunk?”

Gluttony snapped and pointed a finger at Saer with his captivating grin.

Saer was too flabbergasted to speak.

“Which is why,” Arek cut in, “it’s important not to indulge unless there’s more than one of us present.” He squeezed Saer’s forearm to draw his attention. “Neyu offered to take Alus’s fire. He jumped on it like...buzzards on a gut wagon.”

Alus winced. “We need to expand your colloquialisms.”

“One of us has to work instead of read, or cook, or dance once in a while,” Arek shot back.

“Sounds like I’m doomed to have fun for the both of us.”

“Enough,” Saer sighed.

“That word has never been in our vocabulary,” Alus said.

“Alustar!” Both Arek and Saer yelled at the same time.

Alus, of course, laughed.

When Gluttony brought it down to a chuckle under the glare of the other demons, he forced his lips over his teeth into a lop-sided grin. “We’d gladly give you a demonstration, as it were.”

“Why are you so intent on showing me?”

Alus’s smile didn’t dim, but somehow grew more nostalgic. He glanced at his twin. “You wanna take this one, Ace?”

Arek inclined his head. “Neyu deserves to be remembered.”

“You think I don’t remember her every second of every day?” Saer asked, bristling.

“Let me finish. Something that helped Alus and I move past her absence has been thinking back on memories. Fond memories. There’s something extra in it when shared amongst others who cared about her.”

Saer tensed to pull his arm away from his brother, but Greed held fast to Saer’s wrist. “This memory, about the drink—it’s something worth sharing. We want to hear stories you have as well.” Saer fixed his brother with an icy glare, and Arek’s voice lowered. “You’re not the only one who lost her, Saer.”

The ice fractured.

Arek, for the first time since they’d all been brought together, smiled a genuine smile—though it carried grief around the edges.

After a long pause, Saer nodded.

Alus clapped his hands together. “Fabulous. Who’s going first?”