"So, care to tell me what group is after my Knight?" Zariel uttered, pausing his step in the middle of the hall.
An eerie silence followed, for Vincent was plagued with indecisiveness. Unsure whether he should speak of the order that held eyes and ears everywhere.
Zariel frowned and pulled closer to Vincent. "Is it some secret, or is it fear of crossing them?"
Shaking his head, Vincent took a step back, a little uncomfortable at the young Lord's intensity, "Forgive me, but it's not my place to say. I am bound till my Kings speaks of it."
"Typical politics." The Lord mentioned waving off Vincent's indiscretions.
Finding a bitter smile, Vincent pressed ahead and approached a large chamber door. Opening on their own, Zariel's gaze skimmed past the decorative throne room and onto Cyrus with two large bags under his eyes.
"Did I wake you up?"
Twitching his brow, King Cyrus gritted his teeth struggling not to curse. "You did."
"That sucks."
"I know." He said, growing angrier by the second. "What is it?"
Approaching his King, Vincent lowered his head and bowed, "He wishes to know who is after Aurelia Morningstar, your grace."
Wide eye in shock, a cruel grimace marred the King's face, "Bloody hell, and here I thought you would have forgotten about such a discretion after so long."
"Killing what's mine, how could I forget? I always repay my dues. So tell me, King Cyrus. which idiot wishes to kill my knight?"
Lost for words, Cyrus held his tongue. Glancing around, the doors to this throne room closed on their own as he spoke, "Vincent, a barrier."
"Halt thy noise, oh winds of time, and brand this throne with silence," Vincent swiftly chanted, with his right hand slightly arched. "
Filling the throne room in a domain of silence, Zariel chuckled with surprise, "A reverse silence spell, it keeps the noise within the domain but stops noise from escaping. Quite creative."
"It's an honor to be praised by one such as yourself, "Said Vincent, with a smug grin.
"The one who attacked you, as you know, was following the orders of--"
"I want the one who gave him the order. Not some irrelevant knight." Duke blackwater addressed, folding his arms over one another.
Hanging his lips low, at the blatant dismissal of his words, Cyrus continued, "The Order is known as The Blade of Azalea. They are a church of fanatics that has influence over many regions across Alos our's included—dating back to before my late grandfather's time.
"Blade of Azalea. I have never heard of such a woman before. Does she grant boons, answer prayers?"
Arching his brow, Vincent turned to the King, who nodded in turn, "Yes. For her Chosen, she grants the ability to cast tier-three spells instantly: No cast time required or ingredients needed."
'So she is an arcane mage. That makes things more complicated. I may need to apply a more comprehensive Wards that can stop scrying.' Zariel grimly muttered beneath his breath.
"Where are they stationed? I would think--"
"We want no blood spilled upon our kingdom Zireael." King Cyrus shouted, rising from his throne, cutting off the Young Lord. "We are gathering power to fight a war; we cannot afford a civil war."
Narrowing his cold, calculating gaze, the Young Lord smirked, "Are you going to stop me?" he asked with a veil of contempt.
"If we must." The King coldly reasoned, standing his ground. "This is our kingdom. Even if it means angering you, I rule this kingdom."
Somewhat amused, Zariel drew close to the King. Vincent grew on guard, sensing a budding pressure crushing down upon his heart like a waterfall.
Sweat poured from their brow, and a fear they kept in check began to leak. Wails of the dead started to ring like horrid screams of nightmares within their souls.
"I could simply kill every man and child of this kingdom, leaving nothing but ash. It would not be the first time, you know." The Duke mentioned, glancing up at the King who towered over him. "You wouldn't want such a thing, would you? King?"
Cyrus gulped, recalling their first meeting and the years of life he lost; his legs and heart quivered as Zariel continued after a moment of silence, shaking his head, he suddenly backed away with a cheeky smile,
"Just kidding, maybe. But if you feel such away, I will take it slow. Although, I'm not leaving without a location. I would like to see my enemy."
"No blood?" Said Vincent, hiding the relief in his heart.
"Not this night or the following, but you do know, my patience has a limit. I will give you all a year. One year. decide whose side you will stand on."
"North-west, of Seigram, you shall find a cathedral. As of right now, it's hidden under a veil of Arcana. However, a man of your power and Knowledge should have no problem in identifying it." Vincent hastily informed, only to see a furious gleam rise like fire from the King's eye.
"Vincent!" Shouted the King, "You should know your place! Speak out of term again, and I will have your head!"
Confused by the rising tension, Zariel scrunched his brow and shrugged, "Thanks.... I know the way out. See you soon." He said awkwardly, backing away.
Leaving through the halls, a devil whisper rang within the Young Lords heart, "Not your best exit, you came in all strong but left like a weeb."
"Weeb?"
"Means a bitch!" Said Mephisto solemnly.
Rolling his eyes, Zariel sighed, stepping through the halls of the King's Palace. "I was testing them. I wanted to know how indecisive they were. If it were before the blood Moon, I would have killed everyone here and be done with the mess, but things are different."
"You think they will betray you?" The Fallen asked, wrapping his arms around the Lord's shoulder.
"I think everyone will betray me. Those two clowns are Aurelia's problem; I will let her handle it."
Letting loose a fiendish laugh that chilled Zariels empty heart, Mephisto spoke, "Which brings me to you today. Now that Aurelia has her core, don't you think it's time?"
"Time?" The Lord muttered, halting his steps. He eyed the Devil on his shoulder.
Rolling his lazy scarlet eyes upon his devilishly handsome face, The trickster smirked."Time she begins, learning about her heritage."
"And who would teach her? You? A monster I cannot even trust?" Zariel mocked, disgusted by the very thought of this Devil laying his hands upon what was his.
"I am her uncle. Her father Lucifer would not mind; why should you." The Devil replied, cracking up with laughter. "Come on; you can stand there and watch.
"I hate history. I always find that it will repeat itself in the most destructive ways. And when it involves a monster like you from a realm I cannot even fathom, I find myself not wishing to know."
Mephisto released his hold around Zariels shoulder and stepped in front of him, "Knowledge is power, even if it's history. Just as Cyrus must pick, you too must do the same. Will it be Lucifer or me?"
"Why the sudden interest in me, Mephisto? It could not be my sin. No. I am sure you have a higher kill count than I. Is it due to my innate power? Why keep appearing?" Inquried Zariel, unable to find any solid reason to be pestered by this Fallen.
"Now, that is the question to ask. Why not make a deal to find out?"