Chapter 9 #2
“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.”