"Azrete." The word sounded in a low musical tone. "Azrete," the voice repeated.
The stranger uttering the word felt close, but distant, like a haze fogged her perception. Her mind formulated a thought, an answer, anything capable of responding, yet sound fled. The stranger reiterated their words, the tone soft, soothing, and warm, almost familiar. But deep within, a sorrow dwelled, quiet but real. One built upon knowing love, loss, and suffering.
"Azrete."
"Why are you calling the dead? Try her real name," a hard voice criticized.
"My daughter's not dead you lout. Did your father forget manners in his teachings?" The pleasing sound morphed into a feral roar, pricking her eardrums.
"Azrete, your daughter, is dead. Get over it, old man."
A harsh smack echoed throughout the hollow basin. "Silence."
"How shocking," the man spat, "my father clearly forgot to teach me your manners."
"It's called the manners of the wise. Do you plan to make enemies every which way and back? You'll do good to watch your mouth. Especially if you desire a longer life than your Human counterpart."
Isla inched open her heavy eyelids. Curiosity beamed from her pores, every ounce intrigued from their talkative smattering. She wanted to know. Who exactly were these two men? Were they Nobles? They had to be, only a fool like herself would roam the Chaos Realm an enemy.
Still, a Noble possessing a charm inducing voice who pronounced words with silken bliss. Each enunciation glissaded over the man's lips, loving and alluring. The name he spoke entranced her, but not a woman's heartthrob. No, he produced her ideal comfort and relaxation. She thought of home or the closest to it.
Azrete. Why did this name evoke such deep feelings?
Her eyes revealed the molten cavern, her body no longer hanging from rust crusted manacles. Instead, her head rested upon a muscular thigh, tough but radiating warmth.
She stared into the Demon cradling her. Strands of black hair drooped forward as he tilted his head, rich velvet eyes peering back. His gaze softened, searching hers. A frown adhered to his face, but the corners tugged upwards.
Lucifer.
Her voice eluded her mind. A parched desert scorched her throat. The heat wrapped her insides, penetrating and dehydrating her cells.
"No need to speak, my dear. Relax." Lucifer patted her head.
"We don't have much time. If they find us here and now, we'll lose our chance," commented the Noble squatting next to her.
"Now, now. There's plenty of time." His body shifted and his free hand returned with a topped metal cylinder. "Drink now, and freshen up." Lucifer tilted her chin and leaned the drink towards her.
Icy water flowed down her throat, the liquid placating the dryness. She inhaled the contents, consuming the overflowing drink. Isla coughed, water streaming from her chin, forcing Lucifer to remove the container.
"Easy, dear."
She breathed deep, clearing her throat. "How?" Her voice cracked.
"The same way the others found you. Your aura. I would say it's not a commonality here."
"But how did you know it was me?" she questioned.
She understood the meager amounts of aura attached to the Rat-Bats had located her. But could he not have assumed any other being who exploited magic? Could her soul have been exposed? No, impossible, not even the assumption held substance.
He chuckled, his eyes shifting towards bronze. The change lightened his face, softening his age marks. "A lesson for later."
She searched his calm expression for a clue. But the mask refused to fluctuate. What had she missed?
Lucifer's gaze flashed, switching to his companion. Isla followed suit, gawking at the Noble. Midnight hair reached his shoulders framing garnet eyes with red specks and a wide face. His being rejected the High Noble stereotype with strong cheekbones and jaw. The normal delicateness and elegance High Nobles personified turned to fierceness for him.
"Do I know you?"
The stranger furrowed his brow. "Don't recognize me? Is it old age?"
Isla glared. Did she know another arrogant prick besides Rein? At least not one she considered a friend. Who the hell was he? Where had she met him?
He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Seriously? I'm that unmemorable? Lance. How about now?"
"No."
"Really? Even after I let you stay the night at my place. It wasn't that long ago. Remember the broken down village in the Forest of Merith, Vaustran?"
Vaustran. Yes, she had been there. One, two, no maybe three lives ago, close to half a century. Located on Nem, a world out-skirting the Mortal Realm adjacent to the Chaos Realm. Unlike Detra, this border world existed outside the Gods reach. A place covered by dense forests and green growth. Small interconnected villages with no main governance. They worshipped the spirits for protection. And to Gods, nothing more than atheists.
"Vaustran," Isla mumbled as she searched her memory and knowledge of geography. Detra bordered the line separating the two Realms, but Nem had a safe distance. What had happened there?
"You don't remember, do you?" Lance chided.
"Something is telling me I'd rather not," Isla retorted, her voice sharp.
"Still aggravating I see, glad you didn't change. You fought me every step when I offered my place before as well. But then the Gods came and razed the place."
Her eyes widened. The Gods came? Ah, his story made sense. Now she remembered, Lance was the halfling she encountered. He isolated himself from his village, but still defended their lives, or attempted to.
"The stupid halfling who complained every second."
"Stupid?" His brow arched.
"Looks like she remembers correctly," Lucifer mused.
"What? How the hell am I stupid? Those Humans were the foolish ones, and thanks to them I died."
"Reborn," Lucifer added.
"Yeah, yeah, reborn. So what if my Demon half took over."
"And thanks to you, I died as well," Isla said.
Lance shrugged and looked away. "I never asked for your help." He turned back, staring at her. "I knew what I was getting into. But you, why did they kill you, a fellow God?"
"I didn't know and I don't think they knew."
"Seeing the soul is an uncommon ability amongst all races. It's not a factor of strength," Lucifer commented. "Time and dedication are required. A type of labor most avoid."
"You speak from experience. Care to explain?"
He chuckled. "Another time my dear daughter. Now, what shall I call you?"
She surged upwards, her body groaning. "Isla."
"A beautiful name, much befitting. Though Azrete felt better suited." A soft smile lightened his face, the crow's feet crinkling. But a moment stole his warmth and his eyes dulled. "I'm sorry for your fate."
"Why are you apologizing?" Isla murmured. "You aren't responsible for it."
He quieted and his gaze sunk. "I may not have been your origin, but I never once thought I didn't bear the blame. We hurt you. And for that, I am sorry."
"You and Sumeria did nothing wrong. I know her state. She hadn't been sane."
No matter what or how she voiced her gratitude, her death burdened him. What could she do? How could she ease another's pain? His wife had been violated by the Gods, of course, she understood his dilemma and vengeance. Yet, he cared for her. He still cared.
"I could never blame you," Isla added. "There are very few in existence I respect. And you will always be foremost."
"Child, there's no need to stroke my ego."
"It can't get any bigger," Lance retorted.
Isla scowled in his direction. "Can't you shut up?"
"Play nice," Lucifer jested.
"He deserves much more," Isla rebutted and redirected her attention. "Lu, don't forget, you are forever my father. No matter what."
"Then I shall except the title with grace."
"You better, because all that's left is a humiliation of one."
"If you're desperate, you can have my father," Lance joked as he stood from his crouch and brushed his pants off.
"Come now, Asterick holds you dear," Lucifer scolded and joined Lance's stance.
"Oh? So Lord Asterick is your father, Lance. What a surprise," Isla teased, stretching her legs. "He has quite the reputation."
Lance sighed. "Don't remind me. He needs someone to teach him a lesson. Preferably one where he learns to keep his hands to himself."
"Good luck with that," Lucifer remarked then changed topics. "We must go for now. We'll petition the counsel for your release. Rest and await our return."
He turned his back, his feet carrying him forward. The sight struck a chord, spurring her memory. She forgot to ask. "Wait!" Her voice cracked and she coughed from the exertion.
He glanced backwards, his brow creased. "What is it?"
"I must speak to them as well," Isla urged.
Lucifer shook his head. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."
"It has to be. It's the reason why I'm here. The Arcadians wish to renew their alliance with the Demons."
"Arcadians? My dear, an alliance never existed between us."
Paralysis stitched her limbs and tied her muscles. What did he mean? Had she been sacrificed by Nirvana? Abandonment made no sense, she obtained Arcadia's mark for humanity's sake. So what did she miss?
Lucifer returned, kneeling before her, his gaze level with hers. "A common enemy. That's all it ever was, you must understand."
"There is no link between the two races," she stated for herself.
He propped his hand on his knee. "No. Why do you ask?"
Her eyes lost focus as meaning for the torment she sustained became an illusion. A scapegoat? Was she thrown to the Underworld to become the cause? Was her presence meant to incite bloodlust and peel scabbing wounds?
"Isla, dear. What is it? Tell me," Lucifer coaxed.
She chewed her lip, the sensation sustaining her thoughts. What did she miss? Had she misread her circumstances and the granted chance? Had she been used?
"Isla." Lucifer grasped her shoulders, jolting her body. "Tell me."
"Arcadia's Queen," she hissed as her breathing amplified. "She offered me her position. She claimed I had to complete her tasks, one being to reinstate the alliance between the races. I'm foolish, I should have known she would lie. That witch."
"Maybe it was a test, to see if you could gain an alliance," Lance said beside her, his arms crossed.
"Or she never had a plan to relinquish her throne," Isla snapped.
"Perhaps there was more, what did she say before you left? Did she specify why the alliance was needed?" Lucifer asked.
"I assumed protection. She wouldn't tell me who created the so-called previous alliance. She claimed all that mattered was my acceptance," Isla said before remembering Nirvana's words. "Didn't the Demons once help the Arcadians when they broke away from the Gods?"
"Nothing more than lucky timing. Our King had attacked the Gods, and the Arcadians used the fighting to achieve their freedom."
His explanation missed something. A key point. "But why didn't the Gods recapture them after the war?"
He smirked at her question. "I'm not sure. That's a better question for the King of Gods or the Arcadian's Queen."
The Seraphines and Demons never had an alliance, she could believe his explanation. But how did the Arcadians keep their freedom? No power-hungry ruler would forfeit such prey. And even better, what should she do about the Witch?
A/N: Another update so soon! To make up for last week. Hope you enjoyed it.