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Swann's Light - Part 1
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Swann's Light - Part 1 The kiss of autumn wind on his naked skin was as intimate as the sweep of her hot tongue over his pelvis. The dusky-gold skinned woman kneeling before him in the trash-strewn alley was no professional working the inns and streets of Bahl, but the skill she displayed as her teeth and tongue worked along his growing cock was beyond comparison to the base services such women could provide. Her black silk hair hid the silver eyes that had drawn him to her, those soft crimson lips he had hoped to taste to busy tasting him while still curled with the devilish smile she had first offered. The soft touch of her fingers was a sensual whisper along his tight stomach that drifted up and over his chest, her nails dragging lightly across the large black feather tattooed over his heart. Tilting her head back, the nameless woman flashed him the pert swell of her bosom, fingers lightly working at the darker gold of her nipples before sweeping down to cradle him between her breasts. Seeking his eyes amidst the wild veil of his honeyed brown hair, the woman’s silver gaze soon found that every desire she had was reflected in his sharp green eyes. As the satin soft skin stroked over his hardness he let slip a long and liquid moan of delight, the added sensation of her lips working along the extra length of him offering even more pleasure. Staring down at her playing with his cock he could not help but savor the way his skin seemed just a hint lighter then her own, a little more golden and a little less dust. He also had to savor the effect she was having on his body. The hardness of his shaft surprised even him, but the woman merely purred at the full thickness of him, her breasts slipping away to be replaced by the cool and gentle caress of her fingers. As those crimson lips slid down his shaft and the warmth of her mouth turned his skin red hot he felt the threads of her spell closing around them suddenly. Great black wings formed like smoke from her naked back, the dark feathers spreading wide to block his view of the alley then closing in around him until he floated in mass of darkness and shadow. Her lips moved so slow he thought the heat of it would drive him mad, her power spilling down his shaft and through his body to meet the threads of her spell. Together they leashed his body tightly to her control, the flare of darkness before his eyes filling with phantom colors that swirled and danced in hypnotic patterns. As his mind began to drift towards bliss, the distant sensation of heat like nothing else he had ever felt began to flow up his cock and towards the woman. "Angel" he whispered, just once as he used every ounce of his will to slide his fingers through her silken black tresses. He felt her pull the leash taut at the same moment his hands tightened into fists, but any pain he managed to make her feel was little more then foreplay as her spell reinforced the woman's control. The same phantom colors that swirled and danced in her wings flowed through her hair and up into his arms before they began to chill and numb. "Fallen Angel." her lips whispered as they slid off his shaft and laid a gentle kiss upon the crown "I have sinned, so many times" She said with a sultry edge that, despite knowing she would devour his soul, still managed to make his cock throb. Her head nuzzled against his hands, the strong feel of his fists making her more aroused then was sensible. "Mmmm" one slim hand drifted down her body, gliding between her thighs to work at the swelling need of her clit while the other guiding him back between her soft crimson lips. She sucked hard then as a sudden burst of fire poured up his manhood causing more of his spiritual energy, the very essence of his soul, to spill warm and hot into her waiting mouth. Each slow bob of her head, each suckling pull of her lips drained more of his power, more of his being, but it was the last drop she would save. That final spark of soul needed to be saved. "That's good" he whispered, the note of confidence in his voice taking a few long moments of blissful anguish to register with the fallen angels demanding needs. Her fingers worked faster, the moment of her own ecstasy so achingly close that he felt the threads of her spell weakening as more of his strength returned. Those silver eyes lifted up to meet his gaze, her body shivering as she pulled slowly off his shaft and whispered, "Do you want to help me be bad?" The lyrical innocence in her voice almost confounded him, but as she leaned back to better display her ample breasts and the slickness that had gathered between her dusty gold thighs his hands loosened their hold on those silken black tresses. In a slow teasing motion his fingers traced over her forehead, across her cheeks, brushing her eyes closed as they slid down to trace her lips. A low moan of pleasure slipped form the angel's lips as he pushed one finger between her lips so she might stroke it with her tongue. Her eyes fluttered open, every whispered fantasy and carnal daydream he'd ever had promised to be fulfilled by the lustful silver gaze. His palm spread wide before those eyes, and a flash like a burst of sunlight exploded in the dark and trash strewn alley. Arching her back and wailing in pain as she rolled on the dirty back street, the man with the feather tattoo watched as the wretched creatures true form was revealed in a nightmarish strip tease. The dusty gold skin that had made her seem so exotic began to sallow and shrivel, her lush dark wings and smooth straight back becoming charred and twisted as every layer of magic she used to disguise herself was torn away. Rolling to her knees and crawling blindly towards the far side of the alley, the angel pushed herself up by clawing at the wall for support. Every part of her was shaking, her charred wings casting down a shower of burned feathers as she finally stood and pushed away from the wall to face him. Her limp and sagging breasts hung near her stomach, the diseased color of her skin helping to highlight every pink scar and bringing the black chain connected to her nipples and clit into stark relief. "The light of Avasei shows all things as they truly are,” he whispered, his cock slipping limply into the dark leather of his pants before he tightened them. Anger and disbelief blazed in the blackened silver of the angel's eyes as she studied what he had done to her and began a slow rising shriek, her hands curling into claws as the tormented woman's body tensed. The pair began to circle one another, the angel's fingernails as sharp as any predator's, reminding him that she was still a deadly threat. "What have you done? Who are you?" she shrieked, faking a lunge before pulling back and watching him closely. The Fallen angel was testing his defenses, proving she was no novice to a streetlight, but if she hadn't managed to figure out who he really was by now then he doubted she could finish anything she started. A smirk pulled at his lips, his feet shifting slowly and gracefully through the hunting dance of his opponent. "I want you to take a message to your boss." he said, stopping his movement and staring into the fallen angel's black eyes, thin threads of silver the only hint of the woman he had met not an hour before. She snarled at the mere mention of her boss, but everyone on the streets knew that any Fallen angel that expected to survive in Bahl worked for one man. That snarl told him more then her employer, it also showed him the measure of her dislike for the man called Churchill. That boded well; he doubted the messenger would survive very long after the delivery. "Tell him Swann was here" he smiled warm and genuine, a smile so charming that the Fallen Angel didn't think to close her eyes when another flash of light stole her sight and let him slip easily from the alley. ******************** The gleaming chrome of the elevator had long ago been enchanted to show the true reflection of whoever rode in it. As Churchill stared hard at his reflection, and that of one of the fallen angels who gathered souls for him, he felt his growing sense of revulsion slowly drifting towards rage. As far as he could tell the woman had been broken of her power, which not only drastically affected her appearance but also made her incapable of earning him any income. The urge to merely kill her when she first found him and shared her story had been pushed back out of necessity, but he had already made the decision to terminate her employment at the first opportunity. Assuming it wasn’t done for him. The woman’s reflection was as repulsive as his was beautiful, every inch of him that wasn’t clothed shone like a star. His handsome face seemed sculpted from something to smooth and perfect to be flesh, his body a lean and muscled figure that only whetted the appetite of all those who glimpsed it. He had drawn in more then one angel with his smile, had convinced so many to fall by filling his sky blue eyes with sympathy and passion. They melted down into sin in his arms, and when they surfaced they would do anything to please him. When the elevator reached the top floor of suites and stopped, the door opened to reveal one of his greatest conquests, and his greatest failure. Jessica Winters was the perfection of the female form given flesh, an Archangel whose power was eclipsed only by her beauty. Every part of her was something to be desired, from the long strands of chestnut hair to the slender thighs, her body had long ago meant to be coveted and revered. It had taken him less then an hour to seduce her out of the club he had met her in, it had taken her less then five minutes after that to learn the name of his boss and go over Churchill’s head. “Churchill” she said coldly, her sparkling green eyes shifting from him to the wretched creature in tow. “What is that doing here?” He held up his hand to stall any further judgment, knowing that she had enough power to have them both removed from existence, permanently. “Is he in?” Churchill asked, his head nodding towards the heavy ash wood doors that led to Mr. Kole’s office. He didn’t wait for an answer, mostly because it always irritated her when he did. As he reached for the doors handles he heard the angel cowering behind him let slip a small whimper. For a moment he thought it was due to the man she was about to face, then his gaze settled on the intricate carvings in the door. The coldness in his smile could freeze a mortal’s heart as he turned to face the wretched woman. Captured perfectly within the wood where the faces and figures of thousands of angels, their bodies exquisitely defined, their faces as clear as crystal. To those without magic the door might seem as no more then a macabre but obviously expensive antique. To those with power the door showed so much more. Every angel moved and writhed in carnal ecstasy, every one involved in acts so twisted they could be called torture. And for every angel, for every perfect form, there was a demon administering that brutal sensuality. Igniting their every nerve with pleasure that burned like fire. It was said that the reason every demon had the same face was because the angel’s souls had all been taken by the same one, and every face was said to be a reflection of Mr. Kole. “Every story you’ve heard about it…. they are all true.” He said so gently that it was almost a caress. His smile didn’t fade as he pushed open the doors, nor did he stop to look at the carvings, the three robed figures standing before Mr. Kole’s desk demanded as much attention and as much care as the man they had come to see. They didn’t turn nor did they move out of the way, they didn’t need to. Every one of the robed figures was like a thin black veil, a cloud of ethereal shadow that he could easily see through. The expression on Mr. Kole’s face regarding his interruption made Churchill wish he couldn’t. “Would you excuse us?” Mr. Kole asked. The three figures seemed to nod before fading away like smoke, the look in Mr. Kole’s eyes one of hellish amusement. Those sharp steel eyes flicked like daggers towards the fallen angel, the man’s slender mouth souring as he studied her then brought his gaze back to Churchill. Before Mr. Kole damned them both, Churchill found his voice long enough to whisper “He’s back.” As Ms. Winters entered the office, ushering the twisted angel inside and slowly closing the heavy ash wood doors, Churchill felt the chill of dark and powerful magic caging them in. Mr. Kole pushed away from the desk slowly; his expensive leather wrapped chair gliding away from him as he stepped around his desk and beckoned the young fallen angel closer. “Come here little one.” He whispered, his finger crooking lightly as her head turned and her eyes became soft and dreamy. She seemed to drift across the room on some invisible thread tied to his hand, her body slipping so very close as the angel nuzzled his palm against her cheek. Her lips parted, perhaps to speak, perhaps to utter a romantic sigh, regardless Mr. Kole’s long dark finger pressed softly to her lips as he whispered, “Don’t speak.” The angel let slip a gentle sigh when his finger pulled away, the feeling of her magic twisted in knots within her easing away in a wash of comforting dark energy. Her beauty slowly returned, her body arching in ecstasy as she was led by Mr. Kole’s dark hand into a long and<b> deep kiss. </font></b>As the Fallen Angel’s lush dark wings spread out behind her and she fell into Mr. Kole’s embrace, the others in the room watched quietly while their boss devoured the woman’s soul. Her body stiffened, a lingering scream dying before it began as the dusky gold of her skin darkened and became more ethereal. Then, like taking a slow and deep breath, the woman’s body, her very soul, were drawn into Mr. Kole’s lungs like the smoke from a fine cigar. Neither Churchill nor Ms. Winters needed to look to know that another angel had been carved into the door. Mr. Kole’s eyes fluttered before he exhaled, a soft nod given if only to himself before he turned and move gracefully back to his chair. It glided into him as he sat, his fingers lacing before him as he poured over the angel’s memories. “It would seem you are right Mr. Churchill. Our friend Swann has returned.” “I knew the Maelstrom Brothers couldn’t handle it. There was no way they killed him that easily.” Churchill growled, pacing in front of Mr. Kole’s desk before he finally shifted direction towards the liquor cabinet. He need not ask, instead he poured two glasses of a rare and vintage soul, delivered one to his boss and seated himself before he began sipping on his own. The swirl of the souls light contained within the glass was almost as soothing as the warm innocence it had died with. Mr. Kole didn’t touch his drink, instead he turned his sharp steel eyes to Ms. Winters and spoke in the dark language of Ceor, pronouncing the brothers damnation with a note in his assistant’s ledger. When his damning gaze turned back to Churchill, he tried to choke down the sudden urge to run. He knew better then anyone that he would never make it past the door if he did. “I will reach out to Mistress Black Feather tonight so she might be informed of his return.” Mr. Kole said before lifting his glass. Churchill waited, the scribbling sound of Ms. Winter’s note taking claiming the room for a moment while his boss savored the innocent soul. “Why do we need to tell her at all?” he finally asked when Mr. Kole set his drink back down. “He was working for us, that makes Swann our business.” Mr. Kole nodded, just once, before he spoke. “Yes that is true. However since Swann was first claimed by Mistress Black Feather and is a long standing member of her organization then I am bound by contract to inform her of Swann’s return and my plans for him but nothing more.” Ms. Winters didn’t miss a word. Churchill nodded, knowing enough about the intricate contracts Mr. Kole spoke about to understand the need for a sense of professionalism. Still, Swann had always been a thorn in Churchill’s side and that alone was enough reason for Churchill to ask the next question he had in mind. “Are you going to give me the job this time?” Mr. Kole lifted one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at the proposition. “Can you guarantee that you will not fail me as the brothers have Mr. Churchill?” he said softly “I would hate to lose such a valuable employee.” Churchill could almost feel Ms. Winters smiling as she took her damn notes. “Yes Mr. Kole. I guarantee that I will personally deliver the soul of Joshua Swann.” He said firmly, lifting his glass in salute before downing the rest of the innocent soul within. He rose, feeling the power pulsing through him as Mr. Kole nodded his consent. The bold look in Churchill’s eyes earned him a curious smile from Ms. Winters as he passed her and left the office. *************** The heavy door closed, leaving him alone with his assistant Ms. Winters. The woman who stood before him was a pale imitation of the ArchAngel Wintre, the being she truly was, but the form she had chosen still stirred the blood of mortal and demon alike. Her sharp mind had only served to strengthen all of the holdings he gave her access too, and much of his empire now ran more efficiently after her tireless efforts to control his minions bore fruit. Now there wasn’t a demon in his service that was not at least as terrified of his assistant as they were of the man himself, and because of that he found himself in a position few of the other Demon Lords could boast. “I apologize for not stop him sir, I know how important your meeting was.” Ms. Winters spoke so quietly the man barely heard her, his sharp steel eyes studying her intently as his assistant hung her head low and gazed solely at the tips of her fine leather shoes. “it is of no concern Ms. Winters. The Three had already made their decision before his arrival. All Mr. Churchill did was ensure that they gave him a moment of their attention, a moment to decide his fate.” Mr. Kole said, his deep voice rolling through the room and sending a long shiver down his assistants spine. “Will they kill him?” Ms. Winters asked, a strange note of disappointment evident in her tone. Something Mr. Kole did not miss. “I do not know, even I am unable to command the Three.” Mr. Kole said cryptically. “If I may ask sir, what was their decision regarding your proposal. Shall I suspend the other operations?” Ms. Winters said softly, her head lifting and remaining high as she watched the man she had served for over a decade. “They have chosen to help guide things in my favor, though what outcome they have foreseen is still unclear. They did however warn me to beware the one with white feathers.” He said softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched Ms. Winters mind work through the implication. “They were warning you about Swann.” She whispered. “What does he have to do with your plans?” “The last job I sent Mr. Swann on was meant to bring about his death, the item I wanted him to acquire was so heavily fortified by magical and martial securities that even one of the Demon Lords would not risk trying to steal it. Naturally I assumed he would not survive. When he did and contacted me to arrange the delivery I decided to send the Maelstrom Brothers in to finish Mr. Swann, and the item.” Mr. Kole said with gentle malevolence. His assistant heard the emphasis he had not expressed. “You wanted the item to be destroyed. Not Swann.” She said Mr. Kole nodded and pushed back from his desk, his chair gliding away from him as he rose to his feet and moved through the richly appointed office. It was rare, but for a moment she heard the sweet sound of his laughter, it faded as it always did but it left her warmer for hearing such music. “One of the final security measures woven around the item was a spell that causes the complete destruction of the vault, and the building, that it was housed in.” Mr. Kole said with a smile “The explosion must have been incredible.” Ash wood furniture gleamed with magic, the wood as enchanted as the door, though laced with magics far more subtle and deadly. Here and there curios and rare artifacts were tastefully displayed. The curved grace of a sword older then most of the world rested upon a far wall, while another held a large and detailed map of the world. Mr. Kole moved past centuries of history and secrets, barely looked at the skull of an enemy that most would weep to know was truly dead. Instead he paused at one of three long bookshelfs, the volumes contained within so rare that they could be called unique. It took him only a moment to find the one he wanted and pull it down, his sharp eyes scanning page after page as he walked over to Ms. Winters. The grave seriousness in his eyes made the world stop. For the next moment, nothing mattered to the Archangel Wintre more then what he was about to say. “The Heart of the Sun” he said softly, pointing to a richly detailed illustration on the page. It took his assistant only a moment to read and translate the text, and by the time her eyes met his Mr. Kole knew that she understood the reason for care. “So where is the Heart now?” Ms. Winters asked Closing the book Mr. Kole eyes burned with rage as he said “At home, in my personal vault.” The fury she saw in his sharp steel eyes frightened Ms. Winters more then anything else could ever have “Then what’s wrong?” Mr. Kole’s voice seemed deeper somehow, darker. She felt the chill wind in his soul flowing through the room as he spoke softly “The Heart of the Sun is the only thing that can contain the Light of Avasei.” He could not help but pleased at Ms. Winters quick thinking when she asked “Then how did Swann use the light on that Angel?” *************** In the city of Bahl there were a dozen streets where one could find a place to sate the hungers of the flesh, barter the coins of the soul or draw the dead back to the living realm. Of course all these cost far more then just money, and some debts could never be fully repaid. It was a matter of survival in Bahl, the city that sat proudly in the free lands caught between the Kingdom of the Damned and the Provinces of Heaven. A center for trade from both sides of an unending war, the city had grown into a strange mix of celestial and infernal citizens vying for home and hearth with the last of the human nomads. Strict trade policies and codes of conduct had long ago been instituted within the boundaries of Bahl, laws that were broken as often as they were cited, but much of the city still held to the oldest ideals of both nations. It was here that Joshua Swann had first been born, the of reluctant parents whose lives were spent as much at work as at play. He could remember a few scant hours each day when his parents would both be home, a few hours of tension and anger that melted out the door as darkness settled. He could remember nights alone in one of the many small apartments his parents had dragged him to, nights listening to screams of pain or the growling of his own stomach while his mom and dad drank away what little pay they had earned. It wasn’t long before the streets called to him too, and he learned one of the first real lessons of survival. No one makes it alone. He hadn’t been as foolish as most of the in his neighborhood, hadn’t joined up with the first gang that offered him a spot, didn’t take the first mark offered to him just to have access to that power. It hadn’t made him a lot of friends. He took more the one beating, and lost more then a few dollars, to the other around him for simply refusing to join in their stupidity. He also watched more then one of those die at ages far to young. It had been years before he made his first real friend, and through that friendship had earned the mark he had worn proudly all his life. After that day, the in the neighborhood knew better then to touch him, the thugs on the street knew better then to hassle his dad or leer at his mom. They knew that something in the dark was watching out for him and those closest to him. They knew that he had become part of a family. The Black Feathers had long ago earned a spot as one of the most powerful gangs in the city. Powerful, but highly selective about those they took into their house. The family had a more defined purpose then many of Bahl’s gangs, operating almost exclusively as thieves and spies in the constant struggle between the two nations surrounding them. Their position of neutrality was meant to be a reflection of Bahl’s own neutrality a simple statement that said the family was about business. The small and intimate nature of the Black Feather family had deeply affected Joshua, the early years of his training under the direct guidance of Lady Crow being among the most formative and influential of his life. Her skill with pick and blade, her knowledge of the most obscure and powerful larcenous spells, as well as her many years of experience had all had a hand in shaping him into the Master Thief he had become. She had also taught him another lesson, one much harder to learn then any other. Sometimes one could buy their way out of a family. Lady Crow had called it ‘retirement’, had claimed that after so many years and so many jobs the only challenges left were in training and even that could be better handled by others in the family. He never got the whole story, never quite found out what she paid for her ‘retirement’ plan. Joshua only knew that now just a few years later Lady Crow ran the most distinguished tattoo parlor in town. Bleeding Art Studios. She didn’t look up from her position behind the counter as he pushed through the shaded glass door Lady Crow didn’t need to. He could feel the magic at the doors boundary, the soft veil of her power that washed over him and decided to be his friend. Not for the first time he stopped to wonder what would happen when her spell finally decided he was an enemy. When he caught her warm almond eyes and the amusement in them, he knew Lady Crow was thinking the same thing. He had disappeared rather suddenly. “So you’ve returned.” She said softly before standing and moving around the counter. “Well let us take a look at you then duckling.” He snarled at the old nickname, but didn’t dare disobey her either, instead he stepped forward for Lady Crow’s inspection and did his best not to leer at his ‘older sister’. He cared little for what the rumors and whispers had said when she left, Lady Crow was still a woman very much in her prime. Like him she bore some angel blood, some liaison with the light had touched her bloodline just enough to give her more then the usual bit of power. It made her, oddly, lighter. Much lighter, like him she had the weight of a feather and moved with the greatest of grace. It was a requirement for serious advancement in the family. Speed, stealth, sorcery. The arcane arts had to be as natural to the candidate as breathing, the rest as fluid as water. She had taught him all that, and every ounce of it poured out of her as she stroked her talented fingers along his arms and looked him up and down. He couldn’t resist, not with the sweet scent of whatever she teased her dark auburn hair with filling his senses. Her skin was like pearl, the faintest hint of light ever present in each full sensual curve. In the weeks since she had first left the family Joshua learned a few other secrets about the woman he thought he knew so well. She had kept her full breasts concealed somehow, he had never asked what she did, he just knew that in the weeks after Lady Crow left her bosom doubled in size. The low cut top she wore now displayed them perfectly, tempting him to indulge his senses and lose his concentration. He fought back his urges by wondering what Crow saw when she looked at him, did his old teacher see the young novice still scrawny from lack of food, pale from lack of sleep. Did she see him as he had grown over the years, locking him in some pubescent body and ignoring every part of him that had grown. The question of whether Lady Crow saw the man he was, the well trained body, the firm muscle, the pale moon kissed skin? When his eyes lifted to meet find her fair face Joshua noticed she was still staring at his bare golden chest. “See something you like?” he asked playfully. The concern in her almond eyes made him shiver, the mind this ‘sister’ had never did make it easy for him to deceive her. “Where have you been?” He was shocked, frankly. It was one of the oldest rules amongst the family that when it came to the job, it was business. On rare occasions they would work together, and he knew of at least one piece in her establishment that Lady Crow had stolen so many times over her career she finally decided to buy it herself. But when it came to details of their no one in the family disclosed names, places, or items. It wasn’t done. “You know I can’t tell you that Crow” he said softly, his eyes hardening as he watched her dig in for a fight. “Can’t or won’t?” she said gently. “Fine. I won’t tell you that and you should know why, you were the one who taught me remember?” he asked, his voice growing more heated as he turned around and locked the door to ensure no one walked in one them. Lady Crow let slip a word in the old language that made him want to giggle. He hated when she tried that diversion to get him to open up about something he was hiding. “Why are you being so damned annoying Crow!” he growled at her, slipping around the counter with the familiarity of an old employee and easily finding the bottle of aged Mersian Whiskey he had procured for her last birthday. Skipping the glass resting beside it he took a long swig from the bottle before setting it down on the counter. She walked up to him so very slowly; her eyes downcast as she weighed over something and absently took the bottle for her own quick drink. “I heard you had died. I didn’t believe it of course, not even the Maelstrom brothers could kill Joshua Swann.” Taking another sip from the bottle, Crow handed it over to him and turned around to rest her back against the counter and look at the various tattoo examples hanging in frames on the far wall. “Why is your tattoo White Joshua?” “What?” he asked, his eyes immediately dropping to the black feather tattoo on his chest. The feather that had been colored black this morning. He said nothing, could say nothing. How could he explain it to her anyway? “Where have you been Swann?” she said again, his eyes lifting up in confusion to find her staring at him worriedly. “Gemisal.” He said without thinking, the city deep in the Provinces of Heaven was known for its rich museums and personal collections. It was also a favorite target for the Black Feather family. “Bulcante’s Vault.” “WHAT!” Lady Crow roared, then grabbed the bottle and took a hard drink. When she was done the woman gasped, her eyes watering, but she made a motion for him to go on. “Some old art piece covered in black silk. I didn’t even look at it, what was the point? I just tucked in my satchel and made my exit.” Joshua realized he had just broken the first and most cardinal rule of the Black Feathers. “How did the Maelstrom Brothers find you?” she said then, guessing he had contacted his employer and arranged the drop. The simple question led her to the obvious conclusion about who had set him up, but she wanted to hear him say it. “Mr. Kole” he said softly. The same answer he had come to. It was time for another drink and he took one to match Lady Crow’s last. He coughed once, shook his head then spoke slowly “They came at me just outside the rendezvous point, very casual, very intent on their target.” Lady Crow nodded “I’ve heard some of this, Riel came at you with that burning fucking axe of his while Drafin worked up some kind of spell. I’m told it fell like he was birthing a nightmare for you to play with?” Joshua gave her a curious look then shrugged. “ I don’t know. I brought up a shield spell and pulled my wing blade but when his first fire wave hit me everything exploded around us.” Lady crow nodded “We all heard it, thought it was Drafin’s spell backfiring. I hear he is pushing deeper and deeper into the Chronicles.” Joshua shook his head softly and said again “I really don’t know. I was thrown by the explosion and lost consciousness. When I woke up the satchel was gone and the brothers were nowhere to be seen.” She gave another nod and turned her gaze to the wall, letting her mind wander as Joshua walked out from behind the counter and made his way into one of the parlor’s comfortable leather chairs. “Do you remember anything else?” Crow asked in a whisper. Now Joshua hesitated. This had been the reason he had sought her out. It had been stupid to do so, especially after sending his message to Mr. Kole, but he could think of no one who knew the arcane better then his old teacher. “The Light of Avasei.” “What did you say?” Crow said in a startled voice. “The Light of Avasei shows all things as they truly are.” He whispered again. “Where did you hear that? How could you know that spell?” She asked, her voice growing more frantic. Pushing away from the counter Crow ran over to door set in the far wall the up the stairs hidden behind it. He rose slowly, following as he heard the sound of her digging through something heavily. When he reached the top of the stairs he found Crow at the far wall trailing her finger over a long shelf of books, pulling one down and flipping through it before tossing it to the floor. Usually so careful with the rare and ancient volumes, Joshua felt a surge of guilt at how quickly she had been pulled into this. “I think I should go.” He said. “Sit your ass down Joshua!” Crow yelled, stopping just long enough to give him her hardest stare then turning back to her search. Finally she grunted, a sure sign she had found whatever it was she was looking for. “There is no bloodline, no demon or angel that we know of who still knows the secrets of that spell Swann. Do you understand that?” she asked, handing him a book that had been opened to the page she wanted. He looked at it for a moment, wondering if Crow realized not everyone could instantly translate the old language it was written in, then looked up at her with a mock smile. “You taught it to me Crow.” “WHAT!” she said. “In a dream….we were in the clouds?” he said, his eyes shifting away as he focused on the vague memory. “You said the light of avasei shows all things as they truly are.” “Okay.” Crow whispered softly, accepting for the moment what he was telling her. “Anyway, last night I tracked down one of Churchill’s angels. Got her to take me out back.” He wondered how much to reveal then shrugged softly, knowing Crow knew the hunting tactics of the Fallen Angels. “When she revealed herself I kept hearing it over and over in my head, I just figured I was thinking about you. When the angel tried to take me all the way I made my move, except the first thing that came to mind was the light.” “So you attacked her with it?” Crow asked, then when Joshua nodded she turned away and began tapping her fingers against her soft pink lips as she paced the bedroom. “Avasei is the name of one of the lost gods, the ones who created the human, demon and angel races in the first place. He was ancient and almost forgotten before the rebellion.” Crow said, almost absently, then finally turned and faced him. “You were thinking about me when you were with a Fallen Angel?” she asked, a curious smile growing on her lips. “I..um” he stammered, trying to fight back a blush he knew was growing on his cheeks. “Maybe?” “Mmmm…” she said softly, her finger lingering on her lip as she stared at him. “What does that matter?” he asked hoping to change the subject “How can my tattoo be white now?” “Well.” Crow said gently, her finger stroking her lip before she realized the unconscious action and stopped “I think you absorbed some of the light, since your half angel it wouldn’t be harmful to you.” “Ok. So we just need to find out what it was that I stole in the first place.” Crow gave a gentle nod as her eyes grew distant “I don’t know of any artifacts or books related to Avasei, but I can reach out and see if anyone has heard of something?” “Then if you don’t mind I am going to take a shower and try to get some sleep.” Joshua said with a hopeful smile. Shaking her head with a laugh Crow pointed back towards the bathroom before heading downstairs to reach out to her contacts. |
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