Chapter 40
Saer convinced Errshek to lie on the small camp bed under his canopy after he wore himself out with crying. He fed more wood into the fire, providing a stronger blaze to facilitate Envy’s healing.
Hours stood between him and sunrise, and his plagued mind wouldn’t allow him to pass any of the time in sleep.
Errshek’s breathing shifted from stilted hiccups to lengthy inhales and exhales, a sure sign he’d left consciousness at last.
Alive.
Everything he’d worked towards, all the endless years he’d held revenge like a bleeding, raw piece of meat between his teeth had, in the span of a few precious hours, turned to rot.
Purpose had existed where sickening decay now settled in.
Previously robust fury against the one he’d hunted turned as brittle as the moment love dies.
Was it all for nothing?
Had his time been wasted and worthless between Neyu’s death and finding Errshek?
Saer dissected his maker’s moves with more scrutiny than he ever had, picking apart the pieces like a thick, encrusted scab.
The struggle to put himself in the mindset of Lucifer ached, and stabbed, and seared all at once.
With the same exertion it took to recall a dream upon waking, pulling it desperately from the back of his reluctant brain, truth materialized.
The notion that, perhaps, Errshek might be a victim as much as Neyu. As much as he.
Which meant...
Lucifer learned from Errshek of Saer and Neyu’s devotion to one another.
Their maker wouldn’t have missed Errshek’s fondness for the Second.
When it became apparent Saer and Errshek were both in love with Neyu, willing to dedicate themselves to her above even their maker, the simplest solution and the greatest lesson was to destroy her.
His stomach lurched.
What better way to do this than to have the lover turn murderer, and the unrequited paramour present to bear witness?
And if he’d refused to destroy Neyu, the rest would have been unmade, leaving Saer alone.
No, not alone.
Leaving Saer with Lucifer. First, and favored.
Saliva flooded his mouth.
In Saer’s travels around the world, removed year over year from Lucifer’s influence, he’d witnessed true leaders, lovers, families, fathers.
Humans showed him the best and worst of each.
He remembered how Neyu made him feel—the rightness.
No matter which angle he looked at It, his maker never invoked the same sensation.
Or rather, It drew an instinctual parody of the sentiment to the surface, but tainted. Compellingly toxic.
Saer craned his neck and swallowed past the sickening reflux fighting against him. Something innate pressed at him, a built-in mental block which manifested in physical discomfort.
If Errshek wasn’t to blame for Neyu’s unmaking, and he knew he didn’t condone the heinous act, it left one possibility.
Lucifer.
Saer bent suddenly to the side and vomited. The First’s retches were blanketed by torrential rain and thunder.
The fallen angel.
Another heave, and Saer fell to the ground on his hands and knees, the pressure in his abdomen shoving so hard it pounded behind his eyeballs.
It killed Neyu.
The contents of his stomach tried to empty a third time, and Saer spit on the ground at the end of it, fighting to catch his breath.
Deceiving, murderous, iniquitous beast.
His head pounded, the ringing thick in his ears.
The more he pointed his internal accusation at his maker and away from Errshek, the more his body rebelled, as though the First’s loyalty had been baked in.
Inherent. Considering going against Lucifer triggered every discomforting sensation in his body, urging—commanding—him to lean another direction.
But his confrontation with Errshek opened his eyes, well and truly. He’d never be able to close them again.
The others—Arek, Alus, Runeak, Errshek, Kalia—all lived under the same veil, didn’t they?
His stomach lurched again, but nothing was left. He groaned and spat on the ground.
None of his kin considered their maker to hold any fault in Neyu’s undoing. Runeak blamed him. The Twins blamed the culmination of events…and him. Kalia didn’t want to blame anyone, yet coaxed him to be better, asked if he even missed Neyu. Lastly, Errshek blamed him…and himself.
To some degree, all pointed their fingers at him. Even he had blamed Errshek. None blamed Lucifer.
Until now. Until him.
Would they ever see?
Saer gasped great lungfuls of air, and dared to whisper the words aloud, “Our maker’s fault.”
His guts spasmed again.
Saer gritted his teeth against it, digging his fingers into the moist dirt under them. “Its fault.”
The nausea resurged, and he tightened his abdominal muscles against the sensation, growling. Saer dared to sit, hands shaking.
He said the words again, battling the inborn allegiance Lucifer used when creating him.
Pride wouldn’t allow himself to be the fool again.
The remainder of the night passed in a wash of rain and rolling thunderclaps. Saer spent the time solidifying his ideals, making it back onto the stump at one point or another.
While not the most relaxing of evenings, it carried a dark satisfaction all the same.
As the sun peeked over the horizon, Saer noted the lightning and thunder dissipating as well. “Does it go away every morning?” he pondered aloud.
“Nearly so.” Errshek’s fatigued mumble came from behind Saer. The younger demon lay on his side, back facing him.
A spike of annoyance pinched at Saer as he glanced over his shoulder at the dozing demon. “So I could have waited until the morning and found you without having to go through all that?” He made a flippant gesture towards the sky.
Envy answered with a groan as he rolled over, rubbing at his face and wincing. “My eyelids are going to be puffy.”
“Pardon?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Though Errshek couldn’t see it, Pride rolled his eyes. Still, he tried to keep the irritation out of his tone of voice. “Let me know when you’re done with your morning routine, then we’ll talk.”
The sentence provoked another groan from Errshek who sat halfway, but flopped back on the camp bed after he heard it. “You’ve always been so damned action-oriented.”
Saer twisted towards Errshek. What he meant to say stopped short when he saw Envy’s face. He paused. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Your eyelids are puffy.”
Releasing a tiny, indignant shriek, Errshek covered his face and yelled behind his hands, “I told you!”
Saer huffed when one of Errshek’s sandals struck his shoulder. “You look much better than last night,” he said and meant it. Errshek’s outward wounds healed for the most part after hours by the fire. “Get up. Come with me down to the water.”
Simple as that, Saer fulfilled his true-name-binding command, and the prior metaphysical weight lifted from Errshek.
Saer stood, brushing off his pants, and stepped out of the clearing.
The lake’s edge boasted a mixture of rocks, dirt, and grass.
Dewdrops clung to the turf in the cool early morning, sunlight glittering off the iridescent water spots.
In sharp contrast to the bright azure of the daytime sky, the body of the lake simmered, alternating between navy and ebony while small waves lapped along the shoreline.
Across the way, Saer spotted a multitude of humans moving at the pool’s edge, alternating between crouching and standing.
Likely his crew mates doing their diligence.
They collected the ‘mystical fluid’ of the lake to bring back with them.
Pride knelt at the shoreline and wet his fingertips on the water.
Just water.
Just a tale.
He felt neither surprise nor disappointment.
The graceless footsteps of Envy sounded at Saer’s back.
“You could have run,” Saer said, though he’d not doubted Errshek would join him next to the water when he released the true-name command.
The footsteps stumbled as they slowed, and Errshek muttered under his breath, “A lot of good that did me last time.” Sidling next to Saer, Errshek went on with his usual self-berating awkwardness, “Can’t even hide properly.”
Saer touched his fingertips together as he nodded to the side in acknowledgment, the water sizzling in microscopic evanescent pops off his skin as he forced a small fraction of extra heat into the flesh.
“To be fair, it’s a clever enough spot.” He lifted his eyes to focus across the body of water, musing, “I might not have found you for quite a bit longer if Kalia hadn’t told me how you two spoke to the Twins about it. ”
Errshek kicked at the rocks at the lake border with a grimace. “She’s such a snitch.”
Saer opened his mouth to correct the younger demon but stopped himself.
He and Kalia’s last moments together played behind his mind’s eye, and he clenched his jaw, dropping his gaze.
A few heartbeats of silence passed before he changed the subject.
“I had a good amount of time to think last night.” Standing, he turned to better face Errshek. “I think it’s time all of us gathered.”
“Us?”
Raising his eyebrows, Saer gave Errshek the full weight of his gaze.
“Us, like, everyone?”
“Yes, Errsheken.”
“Kalia and Runeak and Alu—”
“Everyone.”
Envy scoffed and shook his head. “You can’t be...we haven’t all...in one place?”
“Am I going to have to keep repeating myself?”
“How?” He threw his hands out dramatically. “We’re all scattered to the four winds and you”—Errshek gestured at him with another pronounced flair—“apparently aren’t getting around the fast way anymore. How in the Hells do you suggest we accomplish this?”
Saer answered with calm to match Errshek’s angst. “You’re going to get them, Errsheken.”