Chapter 21 #2
The Second wrapped her delicate hands around Errshek’s right wrist, neither fighting nor struggling. Another of Saer’s ribs cracked under Errshek’s weight, ripping a sharp cry from his throat.
Shadows crept to the edge of Saer’s vision while his lungs struggled, muddling the world, and Lucifer hissed in his mind with devastating heartache, My First, my immaculate, exquisite First, how could you—
Neyu’s voice broke through, “How can we right this wrong, Mas—” The question ended with a gagging cough as Errshek’s claw tightened its grip around her neck.
The snarl snapped to an expression of curiosity. Neyu struggled, desperate for breath. We. Lucifer’s voice parodied Neyu’s, tasting the word. Those black eyes shifted from Neyu, back to Saer. ‘We,’ she says, Saerkhanum. Do you hear her?
“Yes, for the sake of the Hells, yes!” Saer’s strained reply rose pained, urgent.
Lucifer smiled with Errshek’s muzzle, the expression neither kind nor reassuring. The claws buried in Saer’s chest withdrew with a wet tearing and the fingers around Neyu’s throat loosened. The First and Second coughed and gasped in turn, rolling towards one another to collect themselves.
Simple enough. Their maker’s voice reverberated in their minds. I’ll unmake you both. Or— A bloody finger rose and tapped against Errshek’s lips. Envy’s tongue darted forward and tasted, an absent-minded gesture. Or one of you. Just one. Yes, I think that’s better.
Saer didn’t comprehend through the pain of his broken ribs, panting.
But which, Lucifer mused.
“Which?” Saer wheezed, eyes blinking to clear the flash of bright lights behind his lids.
Yes, Saerkhanum. Which lives, and which is destroyed. You’re welcome to partake in this decision.
Neyu stood before the fallen angel finished, her voice raw. “Me, Master.”
“No!” Saer choked on the denial as realization dawned. He struggled to stand, blood trickling down his chest and torso.
“Yes, Saer,” Neyu hissed.
“Like Hells,” he snarled, the words gravelly and breathless. He’d be unmade a million times to save her.
Lucifer’s laughter sparkled bright in their minds, but the expression Errshek’s body wore didn’t match the amusement. Enough arguments. My decision is made. Errshek’s head tilted, his gaze shifting to the First. You’ll do it.
Saer coughed again, ribs seizing. “What?”
You’ll destroy Neyuukhan. After all, she cannot do the same in turn. It seems fitting to establish your position over her. Over—Lucifer used Errshek’s body to gesture to itself—all of your kin, Saerkhanum.
Saer’s jaw slackened, blood draining from his face.
“Master, there has to be another way.” He staggered to Errshek and fell to his knees.
Throat tightening, Pride shoved away his core instincts, the sin he’d been molded from, and pulled instead upon surging desperation.
“I’m begging you, Master. She’s been loyal, she’s returned to you when summoned, she’s done everything you’ve asked.
Our best ideas, our greatest conquests have been hers!
Why would you keep me when you can have her?
Please…take me.” Saer’s voice rose as he made his case, desperation dripping off each syllable.
“Saer, don’t—” Neyu whimpered, but Saer thrust an arm out to silence her. Me! Focus on me.
Errshek’s legs crouched. His blood-stained claw reached forward and pushed Saer’s hair away from his face while Lucifer’s voice hissed in his mind, Say ‘please’ again, Saerkhanum.
Voice catching, fighting unimaginable terror, Saer begged, “Please, Master. Please, I’ll be unmade to save her.”
The voice sighed. Errshek’s eyes fluttered closed and a faint smile graced his face, like he took a bite of the ripest and sweetest fruit. Truth.
Those void-like eyes opened again and locked with Saer’s. You’ll destroy her, Saerkhanum, or I’ll unmake her—and the rest.
Frigid realization poured through Saer’s veins, his lungs seizing. Neyu—and the rest? And the rest?! A lie. It had to be a lie.
Errshek’s head tipped, the movement like a slow-motion mockery. All your kin suffer unmaking if you deny me.
Some high-pitched noise keened in Saer’s ears. All…?
You’ll live, It whispered, drawing out the words like a long, indulgent pour of sweet wine. With their destruction on your shoulders.
“No!” Panic took over and Saer lurched towards Errshek’s face. Neyu lunged at the same time, locking both arms around his elbow.
“Saer! Stop. Stop.” Somehow, she turned Saer and wrapped her arms around him tight enough to steal his breath.
Didn’t she understand? They had to scrape, and claw, and twist, and fight—
“Dearest,” she whispered, breathless.
The word halted him. He clamped his arms around Neyu. Squeezing for all he was worth, his eyes fixed over her shoulder and on their impassive maker.
Neyu shook, but she whispered with stoic resignation, “I’m unmade, no matter what.” She leaned back. “Look at me.”
Saer’s eyes snapped down. All savagery crumbled to the steel in Neyu’s gaze, despite how her eyes swam with tears. She looked exactly the same when he’d said goodbye to her after their first night together. Fractured and fierce.
No. No!
“I can’t,” he growled, though an edge of a whine slipped through. “I can’t do this without you.”
Neyu slid her arms between them, resting her palms over his heart. Fear seeped into her voice, though her gaze held steady. “You have to.”
“We’ll run—”
A scoff rose in their minds and Saer winced. He glanced over Neyu’s head at the still and observant entity behind them. Lucifer watched them through Errshek’s eyes. Studying.
Absorbing.
Icicle knives roiled inside his stomach, carving and churning. Wherever they ran, their maker would find them. It would work Its way through each Daemoenic to get to them. He knew it. Neyu knew it.
Lucifer would ascertain it.
“The others need you,” Neyu urged, drawing his attention back.
“Our maker lies,” Saer whispered, a plea of denial more than an assurance.
Then by all means, test me, my Saerkhanum.
No scenario existed where Lucifer allowed Neyu to live. A cavern of hopelessness yawned wide and all-consuming.
The immeasurable essence of the ocean shined in Neyu’s eyes as it always had, but somehow deeper. “I need you to save them. I need you all to see and experience beyond me—”
“I can’t.” Saer rejected the notion as soon as she uttered it, a sense of disconnect settling between himself and his body. Only emotions remained.
Standing on her toes, Neyu pressed herself close and kissed his cheek, grounding him. She spoke with quiet urgency into his ear, her voice steady despite all. “I won’t accept the unmaking of our kin alongside mine. I won’t let you be alone. Please.”
No, no, no, no.
“You need them,” Neyu whispered against Saer’s neck as though she could read his thoughts.
Please, no.
His voice thinned. “Don’t make me.”
Leaning back to view him, the Second pleaded, “I want it to be you.” Neyu barely breathed the words, and Saer’s umbrage broke as he soaked in the implications. She asked for him to be the one to unmake her—not the fallen angel.
Will you not honor her final request, Saerkhanum? Lucifer’s abrasive and beautiful voice floated into their minds, and Saer flinched. Amused. Their maker sounded amused.
“I can’t.” The desperate whisper left him so subdued, he barely heard it himself.
“Dearest.” Neyu’s loving touch on his cheekbone coerced Saer’s broken attention back to her. “There’s no other way.”
“We’ll both—”
“For them.”
Saer’s throat clogged.
If he refused, she’d be unmade alongside the rest of the Daemoenica. Could he live with that knowledge? That he’d condemned them?
Or his other choice—unmake Neyu, and only Neyu, himself. Destroyed at his hand, by her request.
From the beginning, he’d been unable to deny her.
“When?” He choked on the question, eyes still locked with Neyu’s.
Now, of course, Lucifer answered.
The pit in his stomach dropped further, grew wider. “Command me by my true name.” His voice shuddered, one last request to remove his will, to save himself. A selfish prayer.
Lucifer’s hushed, cruel chuckle reverberated in his mind while It simultaneously hissed between Errshek’s razored canines, “No.”
No choice. No way out. No other path. A quiet sound left him, an animal shoved into a corner.
He tightened his grip on Neyu and bent his head to smell her neck. Lavender and roses. “Neyu,” he whispered. What else could he say?
Somehow, she knew. His love always knew. Closing his eyes so tight that stars swam behind the lids, he felt more than heard her whimper against his chest, the answer to a request he couldn’t bear to speak. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
She trembled. Or was it him? Perhaps both. Her shuddering kiss touched his shoulder, and her whisper seemed to come from outside their bodies. “I’m ready.”
Words Neyu uttered to him, so long ago, crossed his memory. I won’t harm you unless it’s commanded of me, Dearest. All I want is the same reassurance from you.
Dearest, she called him. And had since then.
He kept his promise and hadn’t used this ability on Neyu, nor any of his kin since he made the vow to her.
Yet unlocking the hierarchical talent was seamless, the latch still well-oiled, the key shiny and new.
Saer didn’t think about what the end would bring, because thinking it and doing it would have been too at-odds inside his gut, his brain, his heart.
The innate Daemoenic ability ignited at the core of everything Neyu was, and grew. She didn’t utter a sound until steam rose from her body, and then made the barest whimper. Her shudders intensified.
Goodbye, Neyuukhanickhraul. Lucifer’s voice in their minds, an odd mixture between pleasure and sorrow. Saer wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Neyu’s frame stiffened further.
He couldn’t let it be the last thing she heard.
Kissing her temple, Saer growled into her ear, “I love you, Neyu. Hold onto me.” He refused to tell her goodbye, but pushed more power into the blaze which burnt her from the inside out. It must have been agony, but she relaxed in his embrace.
She never cried out. Even when flames spontaneously erupted from her pores.
As the flames engulfed the Second, his body pulled the fiery tendrils into himself with instinct, soaking up her essence.
The wounds on his body healed in a flash.
Metaphysically, he swallowed everything which made Neyu, Neyu.
Her vitality spiraled through him, her own power merging with his.
That which made her Lust wove through his own essence of Pride, and he couldn’t hold back the sudden piercing cry rippling up from his toes, through his teeth, and out into the night.
He roared not only from pain, nor from his loss of Neyu, or from the anguish of what he was forced to do.
He screamed because—in the recesses of his heart-razed body and mind—it felt so horrifyingly good.
For a flicker, he couldn’t tell where she ended and he began, until at last, with a dismal huff, the fire consuming Neyu snuffed out.
Saer stood in darkness, blind from the abrupt cessation of light.
He exhaled, and with that breath, the body which once housed Neyu crumbled. Clutching at it, his arms passed straight through her ashes in a billowing cloud.
Even though his body vibrated with energy, the First collapsed to his knees, palms buried in the dust which had, moments ago, been his beloved.