Justice for the Fallen
11 Sannarah

The moon was almost full when I followed the Hell Hound through the maze of the little streets. To my surprise, the sorcerer’s lair was not located in the furthest and most desolate part of the slums but barely on the verge of a more decent merchant district.

The creature stopped, pointing his nose toward a lone building at the street’s end. It looked inconspicuous─made of grey stone with support beams and brown roof tiles that might have seen better days. All wooden shutters were closed, giving the impression that the place was not inhabited.

I crouched over the Hound and scratched its ear. “Are you sure he’s here?”

The creature whined and looked at me as if I hurt his pride by asking this question.

I raised my hands placatingly. “Fine, I’m not going to tell you how to do your job. Do you want to come with me? I could use some company.”

The Hound jumped excitedly and barked its confirmation.

“Great, let’s replace our way in then. I don’t want to force my way through the main door.”

I moved to the side of the building. The streets were quiet. Some of the widows from nearby dwellings were lightened by candles, but not many. It was almost midnight, so most of the hardworking folks that lived here were already in bed.

I was glad. I didn’t want anyone caught in the crossfire when I tried to apprehend the sorcerer. I found a window where one of the shutters hung askew on the hinges. I took out my dagger and unbolted them. The window behind it wasn’t fastened, so I pushed it open and slipped inside the house.

All was dark and quiet. I stayed motionless, letting my eyes adjust to the murky surroundings. The area must have been a sitting room. The chaise longues and armchairs looked comfy and must have been quite expensive, considering the fine materials. I cocked my head. I didn’t expect it after seeing a regular and a bit weathered outside of the building. But then again, the services of powerful sorcerers didn’t come cheap, so those who dabbled in dark arts didn’t struggle for coins.

A soft whine shook me off my reverie, and I looked out the window and nodded to my companion. The Hell Hound tensed his muscles and jumped gracefully through the window, landing softly on a plush rug.

The silence was ringing eerily in my ears. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that no one was in the house. But if there was one thing in this world one could trust, it was the Hell Hound’s nose. No matter how many masking spells they used, the creatures never failed to track down their victims.

My companion plastered his snout to the floor and moved out to the dark hallway. I followed, unfurling my whip on the way. The air was stuffy, with all the shutters closed most of the time. There was also something else, barely a fraction, but…

Blood. I smell blood.

The Hell Hound stopped at the slightly ajar door revealing stairs leading to the basement. A whisp of candlelight was dancing at the bottom of it.

As soon as I descended a few steps, a heavy stench of dark magic enveloped me like a thick mist. It must have been masked outside the basement, but here it was so strong I felt my skin crawl. I tightened my grip on the whip handle and let the Hell Hound take the lead.

The basement was unexpectedly vast. It was mainly shrouded in darkness, though my eyes could still distinguish high shelves heavy with all sorts of gadgets and jars at which contents I’d rather not look too closely. A sturdy chair with leather belts hanging loosely in the middle of the room. It stank of dried blood.

The only light came from small candles illuminating a massive desk in the corner. A man sat there, hunching over piles of parchments laid on several wonky stacks haphazardly. His back was broad, and his hair was black with a few grey strands. He wore dark robes with some golden trimmings, which looked fancy and expensive.

Before I could take another step, he spoke in a deep baritone, “I didn’t hear you knock, Wrath Demon.”

The Hell Hound at my side tensed, and a low growl rumbled from his chest. I rested my hand on his withers.

“Would you let me in if I did?”

“Doubtful.”

“So I thought. I don’t like waiting, mortal.”

The sorcerer finished the line he was writing and put the quill back in the inkpot. “And what business do you have with me, demon? I’m pretty sure I did not summon you.”

Oh, so he was one of those. Certain mortals with enough power could summon creatures of the night or even demons to do their bidding for the cost of their souls. Khaneus sold his ages ago, it seemed. The summoning rituals were rare, as they also needed loads of ingredients that were hard to come by. Not to mention illegal. I had no doubt the man performed quite a few in his life but insinuating he could summon a powerful demon like me was insolence.

Kill him. Teach him some respect. Make him suffer.

As my anger rose, I gripped my whip tighter and stepped forward.

But I hit an invisible wall.

My eyes widened, and I looked down. It was hard to see in the dark, but the floor was lined with complex and intricate patterns. I missed them because they were not drawn, as was usually the case. They were carved into the stone floor. My gaze followed the pattern leading right to the bottom of the stairs.

I walked into this protective circle without thinking, and now I was trapped inside.

“Oh, is something wrong?” Khaneus finally turned to me, revealing a face of a middle-aged man that could be handsome if not for the sickly pale skin tone and profound dark circles. His left eyelid kept twitching every so often, and his gaze could not focus. Pale blue eyes kept darting around while he clenched his fists. “Can’t move?”

“You think your flimsy circle can hold me for long?” I growled though it was more bravado than anything else. To break free from here, I would have to let her out first.

The sorcerer smiled in a way that made his face even eerier.

“I think it can as long as you intend to keep your real power in check. I never understood that. Why are you demons doing that? To have all that power and yet refuse to use it.” He rubbed his chin in thought.

I frowned. “You seem like you know your way around dark arts and demons. You know there is no coming back once we let all the power out. The destruction we would bring will get Heaven’s retaliation immediately.”

“Bah! The Heaven again! And the damned Peace Treaty.” He strolled closer to me, stopping barely a foot away from the circle. He knew I couldn’t do a thing about it. His blue eyes glimmered as if he had a fever. “Do you want me to tell you a little secret?” I said nothing, but he continued anyway. “Heaven doesn’t care about peace. The Mighty One just wants a reason to send his angels down and get rid of all the demons and sorcerers alike.”

“Then why hasn’t he done it already? After the war, he could easily destroy every one of us. Why bother with the whole farce, then?”

Khaneus shrugged. “Keeping up pretences of being an all-forgiving and righteous god? The one that should be reverenced and followed for the eternal salvation of the soul and all that nonsense. The best way to keep mortals in check is to give them a bad guy to fear. The Fallen One is still lurking in the dark and waiting to devour your souls, so you better go to your evening sermon if you want to be saved from damnation.

“You know, gods with their infinite divine powers would be nothing without followers. Without mortals who revered them and pledged their souls to feed their mighty appetite for some whimsy promise of salvation and a fraction of that eternity, the gods would starve and disappear. Became nothing but a memory.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

“It’s not that easy,” I said bitterly. Being a servant of a harsh master like the Fallen One, I considered all alternatives to escape servitude. There were none.

“But of course, it is,” Khaneus purred like a cat. “All we need is to purge all those devoted little humans so we can reshape a world ourselves.”

I like that plan, my inner voice chipped in. As much as I would like to deny it outright, it did sound appealing. Humans mainly were troublesome, but they far outnumbered demons and angels, so I don’t think many of our kind considered that option. But Khaneus had a point. It was mortals’ souls that gave the gods their power. Where would that leave us if we could erase it from the equation?

Humans could be cruel and full of hatred, often even more than demons. I thought about children from the orphanage and how they could never dream of an ordinary life, condemned to always keep to the shadows because of what they were. But if there were no humans to shun them away, wouldn’t that be better?

Such a simple and elegant solution.

Unfortunately, it was not. Even though I met plenty of humans rotten to the core, whose lives I would gladly sacrifice without a second thought, I also knew people who were kind and selfless. How could I punish the whole race for the deeds of some? How could I decide who was deemed worthy of living and who wasn’t? I couldn’t. No one could.

“And that’s your plan? Kill everyone and sit at the throne of bones? That will be one small empire to rule. Also, you’re not doing very well. With your current pace, killing a couple of humans in a month, it will take your whole life to purge them all.” I mocked. The sorcerer had a few screws loose, no doubt about that.

Khaneus cackled, and the sound sent chills down my spine and made my skin crawl. He strolled toward the shelves and picked one of the glass jars with some organs floating in formalin. “I know everyone thinks I’m a madman. Especially those pompous pricks from the Association. But I’m not. I’m a visionary. I won’t be able to make my vision a reality by myself. I’m aware of that. Though, I have to admit that my experiments with freshly harvested spell ingredients did give fascinating results─”

“Ewww,” I interrupted him. “Stop it right there. I’m not interested in hearing about what kind of intestines turns you on, freak.”

The sorcerer ignored me, of course, and continued his tirade. “I need everyone to realise that this situation we have is unnatural.” He put back the jar and turned back to me with a rustle of his robe. “Can you believe I was denied when I tried to buy a house in the northern district?”

“I’m surprised you even tried.” I laughed. It was a part of the city where all the nobles lived and was inaccessible to anyone who couldn’t track his family tree back at least four generations.

“Of course I did! I could pay double, or triple even for what they were asking. And still, I couldn’t do it because I didn’t have proper connections!” Suddenly his fist was engulfed in dark flames, and he smashed it into the closest shelf.

The explosion of shattered glass and broken wood rumbled through the basement. The ceiling shook, and dust fell on our heads. The Hell Hound whimpered and cowered behind me with his tail between his legs at the sudden spike of dark magic crackling in the air. All my muscles tensed, and I got ready to fight back.

He is nuts. Kill him already before he does something even more stupid.

For the first time in a long while, I was going to agree with my inner demon. Unfortunately, I would have to unleash her to escape this magic circle.

The unwanted memories flooded my mind.

My vision was getting red.

The feeling of falling deep, deep down the lone and dark hole.

Echoes of terrified screams.

The neverending thirst for revenge.

Losing myself.

Those were good times.

I was not ready for it. I didn’t want ever to go back there.

I took a deep breath and blinked several times to focus on the still rambling sorcerer.

“…but I don’t even need to create it myself. Both demons and angels are already at each other throats. All you need is one firm push, and the war will come down to the Human Realm once more. And then!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “Then those who possess real power will arise and show those puny mortals who is destined to rule!”

“So, you sent a demon to the crime scene to aggravate angels enough to start a war?” I inquired, raising a brow. “I don’t think it would work, even if they believed it was me. They would kill me and be done with the case.”

“Oh yes, I didn’t think it would work, but they insisted.” He shrugged.

“They who?” I narrowed my eyes.

But before he could respond, a loud knock sounded above us. We both looked at the ceiling in awe.

I couldn’t believe he actually knocked at the damned door.

“Were you expecting visitors?” I asked innocently.

Khaneus looked back at me, and his face turned into a scowl. “So the rumours are true. You did team up with angels. Why would you do such a thing?”

“Well, you know… they have pretty eyes?” I shrugged and adjusted my grip on the whip handle.

The knock came again, this time even louder. Golden Boy seriously needed some lesson in breaking into evil sorcerers’ lairs protocol. Because knocking just pissed said sorcerer off, and he would vent that anger on me.

“You will regret it,” Khaneus growled, raising his arms, the dark flames dancing on his fingertips.

I backed away, but I couldn’t leave the circle.

There was nowhere to hide.

But then I felt it. A sudden shift in the air. So far, I could only feel a heavy scent of dark magic. Now it was like a scale shifted. Some other power came to play.

Golden Boy took off his lid.

Khaneus must have sensed it too. He scowled and looked up again. Just in time to see the ceiling cracking with an ear-splitting rumble. The fissures filled with light so bright I had to squint my eyes.

And then, the ceiling collapsed.