Architecti
Over our time together, Gellara taught me much about her world, the seven devils, the demon ranking and how their society functions. Including the fact they get their magic from deals. Which is why I am heading to find one demon in particular.
“He has an ego the size of the realm and he’s hungry. I’ve no doubt he’ll become the archdevil at some point,” Gellara said one morning.
We’d spent the night making love, and then I’d gotten curious about the leadership of her culture and why she couldn’t simply push her campaign through.
I was missing home, frustrated that I’d yet to find a way back and curious about how her world worked. So she explained how she needed approval and that it had to go through the ranks.
Gellara pulled me closer, running her fingers up and down my waist. “I think it’s so adorable you’re interested in our world.”
“I’m interested in you. Everything about you, including the world you come from.”
She sighed as if this is the most boring thing. But everything that came out of her mouth was fascinating. She could be recounting the terms and conditions of the most inane contract and I’d still be riveted.
She tiptoed her fingers over my ribs and began again.
“Ignatius Corvine is his name. Handsome fellow, but my gods does he have the heart of a bastard. He’s the most ambitious demon I’ve ever met.
Can’t imagine what it’s doing to him being second in command.
He’ll have centuries to wait before Arcadius even considers retiring. ”
I blink, and the memory dissolves. I harden knowing that this is it. What happens tonight will determine the course of history. I will need a few decades or so, I imagine. Interitus’s moth has had a lifetime with her.
But when I rise again, I will come for Interitus and end this once and for all.
I use cloud cover to fly. Nightfall is a must. Since the events that led to Gellara’s death, my face has been plastered across this city. Interitus vanished. I’ve not seen her, no doubt she’s crawled into a hole somewhere to recover. She won’t stay down for long, the parasite.
I have no home now. Banished from the Celestial Realm for a sin I did not commit and hated by the mortal realm for sins I willingly perpetrated.
Perhaps what will come tonight is a kind of justice after all.
I land in the middle of a regal campus. Stately, and composed of a plethora of sandstone brickwork and ivy that clings to the walls like clothing. One enormous tower stands in the middle of the campus. It pierces the night sky and lances the heavens.
Finis.
As I stare at the peak of the tower high in the sky, my mouth pinches at the thought of the Celestial City and a home I’ll never see again.
My body aches for it. Yearns for the comfort of a familiarity I’ll never have again. For weather-worn paths that I could walk in my dreams.
All of it stolen.
Like Gellara.
I will spend eternity pining for a touch that will never warm me again.
How cruel that I should have known it at all.
There are moments where I wish we’d never met.
That it is a fate crueller than death to have known her softness.
To have learnt of her dreams of a better world for mortals.
To have witnessed the way delight made her eyes sparkle and felt the press of her lips to my skin.
Even now, it seems hard to grasp onto those memories, as if her death is making them fade too.
Tonight I ache in places I cannot reach. But it is thanks to Gellara that I have a plan.
I’m going to give a demon everything he could want… at least for now.
I push open the doors to Ignatius’s office. It’s quiet, he works by a dim gas-lit lamp and has his head buried in contract scrolls.
“Ignatius Corvine?” I ask.
He raises his head, brows furrowed. He can’t have heard me come in.
“Can I h—” He stops mid-sentence, his expression widening as he realises who I am. “Architecti?”
“How would you like to become the archdevil?” I ask.
He puts his quill down. Folds his arms and stares at me. “I don’t believe Arcadius is planning to step down anytime soon. I respect his reign.”
“Oh please, an ambitious demon like you? Wouldn’t you like to be a devil at least? You’re still a demon, are you not?”
His neck goes taut, veins standing out as he tries to suppress his emotions. He tilts his head at me, moves the quill and scroll around the desk and clears his throat.
“Why are you really here? Tell me why I shouldn’t call security and have you arrested. You decimated an area the size of a large town and killed hundreds of mortals this week. By rights you should be tried, imprisoned, and executed.”
His lip curls at the notion of execution.
Vicious demon. I meander around his room; he has many trinkets and treasures on the shelves.
His office is very much that of a studious professor.
His accolades fill the wall behind his desk.
Leather tomes on all the shelves and contract scrolls are scattered across every available surface.
“By rights, certainly. But then how will that benefit you? I’m offering you a gift…”
He raises a single eyebrow at me.
“A deal, you mean?”
“I prefer covenant…”
“I’m listening.”
“Let me tell you the story of the angel and the demon who made a promise… the demon imprisoned the angel and saved the city and lived forevermore as the hero… He was praised with gratitude and made a devil and then finally, the archdevil…”
His mouth twitches.
“And the price?”
I smile. There’s always a price and I fear he won’t like this one.
“Twofold.”
His eyes narrow at me, probably thinking this is an unfair deal.
“One. You become a father. In order to imprison me, it will take a feat of unimaginable power. And you will have to do just that, trap me. Because while I go willingly tonight, no one wants to spend eternity imprisoned.”
“And the second?”
“It is the consequence of what we create. In order to harness sufficient power to actually hold me, it will need to be held inside a vessel.”
“A mortal?”
I shake my head. “No, a child born of us. Or perhaps more accurate would be to say made from us.”
“And you’re just happy to be imprisoned for the rest of your exceptionally long life? You’re not going to screw me on this?” he says.
I smile. “Happy? No. But I will go willingly tonight.”
Of course, I carefully avoid answering his questions.
Demons are renowned for trickery, and I have no intention of sticking to our agreement.
At least not forever. I just need enough time.
My hope is that his arrogance makes him sloppy.
So I continue my train of thought and distract him from the question he asked.
“This child will be powerful beyond anything we have seen before. She will have the ability to rewrite fate itself. There is a reason demons and angels do not mix…”
“And how do you propose a mere demon and a fallen angel create that?”
“Simple, we give the purest pieces of ourselves and we stitch them together.”
“A piece of your soul, and my crystalline heart?” he breathes.
I nod.
He slaps the desk as he takes in the significance.
“Demons and angels aren’t supposed to merge their magic like that.”
I nod. “No, they aren’t. A being with access to raw forms of both magic would be… unstoppable. But that is what it will take to trap me.”
He scratches a hand over his beard. “The child will need to be controlled. No one should possess that much power. If it were to find out… it could ruin both our realms. Control all three, even.”
I nod. “That will be on you. I will have no influence once I am imprisoned. Does that appeal to you?”
“The fact a being stronger than both of us will be under my influence? Yeah, Architecti, it makes me feel a lot fucking better.”
“Good. Then let us begin.”
“Wait…” Ignatius says and tilts his head at me, scanning my features. “What’s in it for you?”
I knew this would come, that I’d have to justify myself. He is a sensible demon, after all. I sigh.
“A family spat. A feud, if you like. Trapping me will render my sister powerless, a freedom I will willingly give if it results in her pain.”
That makes his lip curl and a glimmer appear in his eye.
“I’ll need proof,” he says. “If you’re avoiding a public trial, then I’ll need evidence that it’s actually you I’ve trapped.”
I nod. Ignatius may be ambitious, but he’s also not a fool. I stretch my hand out and take the feather that killed Gellara from my pocket, then slice my hand between my knuckle and my little finger.
The severed digit falls to the ground making a tiny thud, followed by the pitter patter of blood drops.
Ignatius’s eyes widen. “You really are deadly serious about this, aren’t you?”
“With every celestial cell in my body. Now, we must hurry, it needs to be done tonight.”
He bends to collect the finger, picking it up with the edge of his thumb and index finger and deposits it on his desk.
“No catches? You’re not messing with me?”
“I’m an angel, Ignatius, not a demon. My motives are pure.”
His eyes narrow as he scans my face, searching. Perhaps for the lie his gut tells him I’m weaving.
“Now, shall we make you a devil?” I say, slicking my words with charm and allure.
And just like that, his arrogance pushes his doubts away and we create a prison fit for an angel.