Chapter 3 - Fallen's First

Saer arrived in a broken, bleeding heap on the floor of the throne room. As the Hellsfire dissipated, Neyu’s soft intake of breath reached his ears first.

Neyu. He yearned to see her, but couldn’t lift his head to look around.

Lucifer’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Bring him to me, my Neyuukhan.”

The command confused and enticed him as Neyu’s hooves scraped closer. Did his maker trust him again? Was this a test?

The heat from Hell restored some of the strength he’d lost, and he attempted to get his shaking limbs under his body.

“I’ve got you,” Neyu whispered next to his ear as she curled an arm around his torso. Incessant, crimson fluid poured from the deep wounds, but her touch soothed him in a way he fought to ignore. The demoness aided him to a shuddering stand, raising traitorous bumps on his flesh while she dipped her head under his upper limb for better support. His blood painted her ebony skin, and Saer suppressed the urge to lean into her.

Across the cavern, Lucifer’s beautiful but tremulous hands swept under the strong cheekbones of Its next Daemoenic, the final touch on one of an identical pair. Masculine, no less muscular than the First, but leaner. Lucifer had finished them in Saer’s absence.

How long had he been on the surface, in and out of consciousness? It felt like forever, but Saer would have anticipated more to show for that time frame. More Daemoenica woken, more of Lucifer’s army complete.

Did time pass slower in Hell? Tired as he was, it flared more pain between his temples to think about.

Saer took in his new kin with a grimace.

The fallen angel didn’t char their skin to black as It had done for Saer and Neyu. Instead, the flesh of the Third and Fourth carried a rich, golden hue. Spiraling, brass horns framed their heads. Claws, wing talons, and their hooves carried the same copper tint.

Saer and Neyu slowed their pace as Lucifer angled in and kissed the Third’s eyelids, then leaned over to repeat the ritual for the Fourth. With those touches, a new sound thundered along the walls of Hell. Bestial and resonating, joyful and frightening.

Laughter.

Saer couldn’t help the lightness it brought to his aching heart, a touch of contagious happiness in the oppressive heat and flickering shadows of the underworld.

Lucifer wrapped Its hands around the Third and Fourth’s spiral horns, Its forehead pressed to one of their temples—the more stone-faced of the two who hadn’t yet uttered a sound. “Areknaryutintarrek. My Areknar. Welcome.”

A pang of unease swept through Saer to hear an airiness carrying through his maker’s voice, percolating when a smile touched Its radiant lips. The sudden urge to protect his new kin flared through him, worried for their safety. How could they know Lucifer’s tempers from Its love?

Lucifer shifted to touch Its forehead to the mirror’s brow. This one couldn’t hide his deep, throaty chuckle, the owner of the laughter. “Alustaranyallkris. My Alustar. Welcome.”

Stern, wry Arek. Jovial, beguiling Alus. Greed and Gluttony—the Twins.

As Saer and Neyu drew closer, she murmured into the First’s ear, too quiet for Lucifer to overhear, “Did you find the cure?”

He bit back a snarl of frustration. How could he find what his maker needed when no one told him what to look for? The creatures who attacked him flashed through his mind, and again, a vague tickling in his mind tormented him. Were his instincts correct? Did they have it?

Instead, Pride clenched his jaw. “Not yet.”

In a repeat of Its ritual, Lucifer walked Greed and Gluttony through their vows of fealty.

The two darted glances Saer’s way, and there he observed another difference between them. Arek—Greed—exhibited distinctly violet irises. Alus—Gluttony—had eyes the color of reflective steel, which laughed in their own, silent way.

The instant Saer and the Twins acknowledged each other, he lifted his chin. Battered as he stood, he made a show of strength, earning a respectful nod from Arek.

Something about their kinship with one another, but also the way in which Alus’s gaze invited others to share in his exuberance, settled the disruption in Saer’s core. They were a worthy addition to Lucifer’s army.

Brothers. The word struck in his mind, the connection solidified. Different from Neyu. Kin, still. Family. All soldiers in Lucifer’s army, all created by It. Yet she called to a hungrier, animalistic piece of him. A piece that belonged to Neyu, and Neyu alone.

Who were the Twins to each other? Did they feel like brothers? Or something else, as Neyu was to him?

Why did it matter?

As though she could read his thoughts, Neyu dipped her head closer to Saer’s throat, her breath tickling the sensitive skin there. How could they be surrounded by smoke and lava, yet she smelled like lavender and roses—flowers he’d never seen, much less scented? The touch spurred his heart to race in equal parts fear and desire, but he kept his focus locked on the back of Lucifer’s head in case he needed to push her away.

“Your first task will be to resume where Saerkhanum left off,” Lucifer said to the Twins, his tone weary but still somehow bewitching. “Gather materials for the throne Neyuukhan builds for me. Build my dais. Carve tunnels with your claws if needed and create the rooms of our home. Go.”

Arek paused as though assuring their maker could stand under Its own power, then nodded. “Yes, Master.” He drew Alus away, whose eyes still laughed, even if his voice remained silent.

When the Twins moved past Saer, Alus offered him a mischievous wink while Arek muttered under his breath, “We stand behind you, Eldest.”

The reassurance was short-lived; he might not have a body to stand behind, before long. Still, Saer offered a quiet growl of gratitude as they moved past.

Lucifer braced Itself on the nearest rocky wall and waved Its other hand. “You’re dismissed, Neyuukhan.”

The demoness paused as though she held back a rebuttal.

Before she could bring Lucifer’s wrath on herself, Saer growled and shrugged out of her hold, stumbling to a stiff kneel. Crimson pooled under Saer’s knee. Lightheadedness threatened to pull him over.

Lucifer pivoted and gazed upon him with tired, hooded eyes.

Neyu’s hooves scraped and clopped as she retreated, and Saer lowered his gaze to the floor to avoid witnessing her disappointment. He swallowed past an iron-coated tongue.

“What have you brought me, Saerkhanum?”

No concern for his wellbeing, nor for the state he’d arrived in. Spite prickled under his skin as words lodged in his throat. Now that he’d been reunited with Neyu, that familiar and selfish urgency for more sang in his core.

“You’ve brought me nothing,” Lucifer said, Its voice lower and colder all at once.

Saer’s stomach plummeted, his pain-riddled mind working overtime. “Master, I’ve—”

Lucifer’s disappointment and rage filtered into Its foreboding growl.

“I’ve brought you information.” The words fled Saer’s lips, and the low rumbling from his maker quieted.

“Say more, child.”

“Creatures wounded me. They looked like…” Saer hesitated again. Would the description upset his maker? Would it be the last thing he said?

“Like what, Saerkhanum?”

“Like you, Master.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

Intrigue answered instead of anticipated pain. “Tell me more.”

Saer exhaled, dizziness spinning in his head. “Smaller, darker, without wings. They communicated in a language I couldn’t understand.”

“Hrm.”

He wavered where he knelt, wounds throbbing.

“I know you’ve never seen battle before, Saerkhanum, nor have you felt the pain of it, but that doesn’t excuse your failure to complete that which you swore to.”

Saer held his tongue against the frustration smoldering inside. He’d been given no guidance! No one could have done better than him.

“Show me your most severe injury.”

Pushing past the nausea roiling in his stomach, Saer managed to transfer his shuddering weight and bring his right leg forward for the fallen angel’s scrutiny.

Lucifer leaned in, Its eyes molten and hungry, bringing the starving surface creatures back to the forefront of Saer’s mind.

The fallen angel grazed a hand over Saer’s hip, smearing blood. His breath hitched with the unexpected sensation, caught between craving Lucifer’s touch and guarding himself from it.

Lucifer’s index finger lengthened and sharpened—then plunged into the worst of Saer’s wounds, just below his hip. An agonized howl caught in Saer’s throat. When Lucifer touched the base of the wound, It stopped and hovered over him, stroking the fingers of Its free hand along his muzzle. “Good, Saerkhanum. You’re already learning to tolerate pain well. That will only improve with time.”

Saer couldn’t respond, only gasp.

The fingertip heated within Saer’s flesh until it burned, then scalded, then cauterized. Lucifer withdrew the digit with slow intent. The concentration of Hellsfire healed him from the inside, out. It should have felt soothing.

It was anything but.

A harsher cry shoved against Saer’s clamped teeth. Lucifer’s searing appendage slid back through the thick, strong muscle, along tendons and ligaments. Blood boiled and flooded anew. Second after languid, nauseating second, Lucifer pulled back until only the tip of Its finger remained embedded in Saer’s leathery flesh.

The fallen angel’s digit at last emerged from Saer’s skin, and like rock to molten lava and back, the razored tip reformed. Lucifer dipped Its hand and swept up the scalding blood pouring down Saer’s shank and thigh.

It brought the scarlet fluid to Its lips and drank.

Saer wavered and crumpled completely to the ground.

A satisfied sound left his maker. “We’ll finish healing the rest of your wounds, my First. Once I have my army, we’ll prepare all of you for war. You’ll not fail me again.”

Saer hissed through gritted teeth. If Lucifer spoke the words to shame him, it only provoked the sin he’d been molded from instead.

With each wound healed, more of Saer’s blood spilt, and Lucifer didn’t waste any opportunity to pool the crimson fluid in Its cupped hands and drink. With each gulp, a glimmer of Lucifer’s luminescence resurged.

It was the last observation Saer had before consciousness fled.

* * *

The lights and darkness of Hell painted the backs of his eyelids differently from the surface. Flickering, rather than rising and falling. Flames, rather than…sun.

He’d not seen the sun past the overcast sky, but knew it lingered somewhere beyond.

What more hadn’t he seen?

Something gentle caressed his cheek, pulling him to full consciousness. Saer squinted his eyes open to find Neyu lying across from him, running graceful fingers along the lines of his face.

The tightness within his body loosened, a long breath leaving as he absorbed her touch.

Bliss.

Fire surrounded them on all sides, feeding him, closing the last of his wounds. He couldn’t see what chamber they rested in—couldn’t see anything beyond her, highlighted by the resplendent, flickering blazes of Hell…

…Lucifer hadn’t allowed them to be alone, together, for any length of time. The sudden and intrusive thought sped his heart.

Hellsfire, she was beautiful. So beautiful, it pained him to move away from her touch. Neyu stopped him with a hand on his jaw. “The quicker you’re up, the sooner we’re separated again.”

He stilled and met her gaze.

“Father sent Arek to the surface to gather more information after you returned.” Neyu’s displeasure sliced through her tone.

Father?

Saer’d never thought of the fallen angel as such. What changed? Was something ingrained in the others that hadn’t imprinted in him? Or did Lucifer ask for the title?

What’s more, Saer’s brow quirked as his tired mind fought to understand the rest of her revelation. Lucifer sent one of the Twins to the surface? Protective apprehension flushed through him.

“Is Arek—?” His voice scratched with disuse.

“He’s back. He’s fine. Without him, Alus was—” Neyu gave a short shake of her head, her gaze trailing down. “They were created together. I think it was a test, separating them.” She allowed the sentiment to trail off while a pensive frown took up the majority of her face.

A test or a punishment? Saer knew the methodology well. He also knew better than to question their maker.

The impulse to touch Neyu’s face and smooth the displeased lines there sputtered as she went on, “Arek didn’t let them see him, but he brought back more information for Father. He called them humans.”

Humans. Did Arek feel the same pull he had, that they might house the cure for their maker? He needed to talk to him—

Neyu’s tone warmed, her nails gliding along his mandible. “I didn’t know when I’d get you back.” Her infinite eyes would be the end of him—and he still didn’t know why.

If Lucifer separated the Twins as a test, It would certainly disapprove of Neyu’s proximity to him at that moment. Displeasure meant punishment.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Saer’s voice came rough with sleep.

Something defiant sparked in her gaze. “Father’s improved after ingesting some of your essence, but he hasn’t left the central chamber. He finishes another. A Fifth.”

Father. He. The words still struck as odd to him, though Saer couldn’t explain why, especially not when Neyu met his stare with both challenge and yearning.

She and her eyes would definitely be the end of him.

Saer lifted a hand to curl it on the back of hers. “Let’s not risk displeasing our maker further than I already have.” He squeezed Neyu’s palm and lowered it from his face.

The gleam from Neyu’s expression muted, and Pride almost took the words back. She nodded and rolled away to sit before he could.

“I’ll let him know you’re awake.” The demoness stood, all warmth from before gone, and made her way to the archway of the chamber they resided within. It must have been one of the alcoves gutted by the Twins, though he had no way of discerning which it was.

Neyu stopped at the doorway and addressed him over her shoulder. “You are Pride, but don’t let pride overtake you in everything you do.”

The First parted his lips to ask what she meant.

Neyu was already gone.

* * *

Saer exited the chamber he’d woken in, testing his joints and craning his neck as he looked around the labyrinthine hallways dotted with pools of Hellsfire. Rooms upon rooms off corridors upon corridors with no discernible purpose leered back at him.

Deep voices echoed from one direction, and his stiff legs limped their way. Cracks of tumbling boulders resonated louder the further Saer went—until he rounded a corner and spotted the Twins carving out their latest passageway. Though identical, Alus carried himself with lightness, a carefree aura which reflected in his ever-present, bestial grin. Arek’s shoulders never loosened, his expression severe in a way Saer appreciated and related to.

Even if Alus’s smile made it difficult not to smile in return.

The Twins hushed when Saer’s hooves crunched behind them, spinning to take him in. Each clutched clawfuls of stones.

Saer stopped dead. Silence pressed in on all sides.

Arek stared, but Alus unleashed a celebratory whoop and dropped the boulders he held. “He’s awake!”

Closing the distance between their bodies, Alus snatched Saer’s clawed hand in his, and pulled him in for an embrace unlike anything Saer had ever experienced. “It’s good to finally meet you, Brother.”

Dizzied, Saer caught the other twin’s gaze. Arek’s mouth held in a grim line, but he didn’t stop them.

Neither pushing away nor returning the hug—for that’s what it was, wasn’t it?—Saer struggled to find words. “Can our maker hear—”

“We’re far from the central chamber. We can speak freely here.” Arek answered this time, his hard-nosed tone everything Alus’s wasn’t, even if they wielded the same voice. It sounded as though the Twins had already discussed this. Were they separated before for speaking their minds? Saer certainly had myriad thoughts he would never voice aloud to Lucifer. Before Saer could ask, Arek continued, “Father’s too busy finishing the next in line.”

Father, again. When had they begun referring to their maker as Father? Should he do the same?

Saer swallowed, and Alus finally released him, slapping his shoulder. “He’ll be glad to see you up and about.”

He couldn’t control the wry huff that escaped, though it did earn him a curious, narrowed glance from Arek.

Something about it rankled him. “Say what you will, Areknar.”

Arek made a show of tipping his head this way and that, like he weighed the wisdom in doing so.

A bark of impatience sat at the edge of Saer’s throat when Alus jabbed his twin in the gut. “You’re his favorite.”

“What?”

Arek glared at Alus, but Alus rewarded Saer with a subtle twist of his lips. “He frets over you, compares the rest of us to you, and commanded us to look in on your recovery when he couldn’t make it down the corridors.” Alus spoke without any tinge of jealousy, but simple statement of fact, punctuated by the glinting happiness in his silver eyes. “You’re First.”

“And favored,” Arek said, repeating Alus’s earlier observation, but with a drier inflection.

Saer frowned, unsure of how to answer. The words didn’t surprise him, though he wondered at the implications.

He should be glad, shouldn’t he?

Why was only half of him glad, the other half strangely cautious?

Arek pointed with his chin at the corridor entrance where Saer came from. “You shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

As warm as Alus was, Arek kept to business. Saer paused, then lifted his chin. “You went to the surface, Areknar.”

Greed’s lavender eyes tightened at the corners. “I did. Observation only. After my report, he dismissed me to continue our work until you woke.”

“What did you see?” Saer allowed some of his urgency to lace through the question.

Arek tapped his claws on the boulders he still held. “Men. Women. Children.”

“Children?”

“Boys and girls. They grow into men and women, but all start as helpless, pink things.”

Saer blinked and Arek’s lip corner pulled at one edge. “You’ll see.”

He wanted to ask more questions, but one rose above the rest. “Did you sense the cure in them? The humans?”

A flash of clever consideration passed through Arek’s gaze. “I didn’t get close enough. But something…” He ticked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “There’s something under the surface.”

So, Arek had sensed it as well.

When Saer asked nothing more, Arek inclined his head in acknowledgment and turned away.

His encounter with the Twins kept Saer’s mind off the dissipating ache in the rest of his muscles as he ambled towards—he hoped—the central chambers. True to Arek’s earlier statement, after he’d turned enough corners, all sounds of their ongoing banter disappeared.

The corridors widened after another stretch, and the familiar echo of Lucifer’s enraptured voice found his ears. The sound both drew and chilled him, and Saer’s gait stuttered as he crossed the threshold into the familiar arena where he’d been made. Neyu worked across the room, and while she offered him a sideways glimpse, she didn’t give him any other indication she’d noticed him.

The disregard panged low in his stomach.

As though sensing his presence, Lucifer stopped Its work long enough to offer Saer a sharp glance, neither pleased nor displeased. Some embedded instinct demanded he throw himself at the fallen angel’s feet, the need for approval distressing—and at war with innate pride.

The more time Saer spent away from Lucifer, the stronger the kaleidoscope of confounding impulses highlighted when he stood in Its presence.

Which side of his mind did he listen to?

Lucifer ripped Its attention away from Saer and leaned over the finished shell of the Fifth Daemoenic.

Her skin reflected the crimson of blood, with sinewy muscles honed to deadly precision. Their maker built her for combat and destruction. Her body, without a sound, howled for war.

Wrath herself boasted claws, hooves, and winged talons of shining ebony. Her similarly onyx horns jutted forward, threatening to gore anyone in her path. She’d been made smaller than her prior kin, though it would be the gravest mistake to underestimate her.

Saer thought all this before he knew her name, before she opened her eyes.

When Lucifer kissed her eyelids and bade her gaze upon It, the First went to Its side and lowered himself to a waiting kneel as he observed.

“Runeakaelishalentannas. My Runeakael. Welcome.”

Runeak focused on their maker with eyes the color of swirling, soulless void. She regarded Lucifer, then shifted her attention, pausing upon Saer.

Gooseflesh rose on Pride’s arms, but he lifted his chin in acknowledgement.

Runeak’s head craned to the side, spurring an insane thought—that her gaze could cut through metal like the keenest blade through thick, pink skin.

Sister. Again, the instinctual connection formed, different from Neyu, different from the Twins. A first impression, made and solidified.

“Runeakael.” The fallen angel’s hand cupped the side of her monstrous face as It led her through the same vow of servitude. Runeak growled her response through razor-sharp teeth, equal parts murderous and hungry to obey.

“You’ll craft a training ring for me,” Lucifer said. “Find my Alustar and Areknar to clear a space large enough for all the Daemoenica to engage in battle. You may communicate with them to achieve your ends. Do you understand?”

The demoness’s low voice carried a constant, dangerous edge. “Yes, Master.”

The fallen angel made an elegant gesture with a hand, dismissing the Fifth.

Runeak inclined her head to Neyu as they passed one another. A mutual respect hung between the two, as though Wrath recognized Lust’s different—but no less capable or ruthless—gifts. No hostility. Only understanding.

“Saerkhanum.” Lucifer’s voice came as an exhausted wisp.

How could his heart flutter and plummet at the same time? He offered a short growl to acknowledge Lucifer’s address.

“The humans you saw on the surface were molded by my father. Your grandfather.”

Saer frowned, more uneasy questions rising, but he remained silent.

Lucifer’s heavy sigh weighed on his shoulders. “The key will lie in them to restore me. To continue building my army. It has to.”

Saer shifted.

“Say what you will, child.”

He shut his eyes, despising the words on the tip of his tongue. But, he’d made a vow to serve and protect, and pride demanded he be the best in both of those things. “Retaking some of my blood seems to have restored you in part, Master.”

A sharp scrape and flutter of wings served as his only warning.

Saer’s head suddenly craned to the side, almost thrown off balance. Lucifer had snagged one of his horns, yanking him partway to the floor. “Are you suggesting I undo my centuries of work and consume you, Saerkhanum? That you leave my services for me to start over? Did I not make you perfect?”

Saer’s throat tightened, the strain near to snapping his neck. His words left in a surge. “There is no question of your craftsmanship, Master!”

A sudden hush fell on the rest of the chamber, and he knew Neyu and Runeak both watched. Innate pride flared, molten hot, and Saer bit his tongue against any further words he might have voiced.

Lucifer scoffed and shoved Saer away as abruptly as he’d been snatched. He caught himself on a palm to keep from tipping over, heart hammering.

You’re his favorite. Alus’s words from earlier mocked as an echo in the back of his mind.

Favored.

Saer swallowed hard, pushing pride down with it.

“You’ll all need a way to infiltrate them.” Lucifer’s tone shifted from outrage to musing in a heartbeat, walking around Saer. “I’ll mold you a second form. One akin to theirs.” The fallen angel’s fingertips brushed against Saer’s back, gliding along a newly-healed wing, and a shiver ran down his spine—a combination of fear and rapture. “Tell me more about them, my child. As much as you can recall. Leave out nothing.”

Saer attempted to tame the pounding of his heart, and he did everything in his power to obey the given command, wondering how much of his information repeated what Arek must have already relayed. He expounded upon all he could recall of the surface creatures and didn’t dare look for Neyu—or any of his other kin—though the scraping and moving of molten rock resumed, if hesitant.

His maker asked clarifying questions where needed, the resentment of before forgotten. At the end of it all, Lucifer crouched and tucked Its palm under the First’s maw. “Look at me, my Saerkhanum.”

Saer did, struck by his creator’s enthralling features as much as on the day of his birth—now accompanied by an undercurrent of trepidation. Lucifer studied the lines of Saer’s brow, running fingertips over his cheekbones, along the ridge of his nose, the delicate curves and creases at the edges of his lips. “Your other form will be just as immaculate. Gather more Hellsfire.”