Chương 120: Destiny
Covering his body in a protective bobble of Arcana, Lord Zariel squinted his hazy eyes. A little shaken by Aurelia's power, he waited for the dust to settle.
Seated on one knee, he saw the young Aurelia gasping for air. Using her sword as a stand, the two halves of the Ghast stood on her left and right.
" I did it," she stammered to say, struggling to fill her lungs with air.
"That you did," he said calmly, staring hard at the emerald essence stretching over the Ghast. Expanding till it covered its body, the physical form of the Ghast slowly melted into a pool of foreboding emerald green essence.
Letting her catch her breath, Lord Zariel approached and clapped his hands together, "Congrats." he said ruefully, a little annoyed she passed. "A deal is a deal. When we return, my archives shall be yours."
"Truly!" She expressed blissfully.
A faint smile traced over the Young Master, "Would I lie?"
"Yes." Said Aurelia sharply. She had still remembered Mephistos words. She would not forget Zariels ploy.
The Young Master's brow twitched, but he shrugged off her comment without issue, "Let's take a long rest."
Slipping back down to her knees, Aurelia fell unconscious, surprising Zariel where he stood. Shaking his head, the Young Master took her into his arm and placed her on his back. Shooting her broken sword a long stare, then the eldritch staff that had vanished into a puff of smoke vanishing from sight, he picked up the azure candle and headed through the entrance the Ghast had appeared.
"Awe, this is so sweet, but we had a deal, Mr. Snow." Said an evil voice that slipped into the Young Lords' soul. "Your soul was a little too weak to have me pry, but now is as good as a time. Would you not agree?"
Appearing like a ghost in front of Zariel, Mephisto held his hands behind his back, carrying a deep frown of impatience.
"Indeed, but could we do it when I am not in mortal danger? Do not tell me you are not curious as to what occurred in this temple?" Said the Young Master peacefully.
"not in the least. My only concern is your first birth. Nothing else." Said Mephisto sharply, then glanced at Aurelia resting peacefully and sighed. "Fine, you have till the end of this Temple."
"You think an accident happened in the formation of my soul?" Lord Zariel asked, stepping around Mephisto, who in turn shrugged and slipped his arms between Zariel and Aurelia. Snuggling close to the Young Master, he chuckled, switching faces instantly.
"But of course. That power you hold, not even the highest of angels, carry. It's so strong; even I fear its embryo state." he claimed, releasing a bitter air, "We should get a drink together sometime. Lucifer is always brooding. I need some positive energy in my life."
"Go away," Zariel coldly snapped, sipping out of the strange Fallen on his shoulder.
"Pesky little brat," said the Trickster rolling his eyes happily. "Till we meet again. O and you will find I always get what I want, Mr. Snow."
Leaving a cold sensation pouring into his pours, Zariel grunted in annoyance and moved forward. He was not in the least interested in being friends with the likes of Mephisto or anyone from the Hells. He clitted his tongue, unafraid of the underlining threat.
Feeling the calm breathing of the little warrior on his back, he hoisted her up a little more and continued forth.
Recalling his time in the hells, a grim, almost ghastly light touched his eyes. His skin began to turn the color of ash, and the silver in his eyes began to fade, turning a deep color of blood. He pulled at his leather jerkin, feeling his throat dry and his body beginning to crave the smooth sensation of blood cascading down his skin.
"I will kill em all. Every last devil and demon to walk the Exalted Wheel." He barked, moving forward in the darkness. Seething with a burning hatred, the glow in his eyes grew stronger as he continued through the Castle of Sorrow.
Moving at his own pace, the sounds of moans reached his ears. But the Young Lord was far too gone in his own world to notice, the hollow eyes watching him from the shadows as he made his way towards the library.
Pushing his way towards the only set of doors in his path, the glint of azure light shot towards the young master. Zariel was not surprised, he had already sensed the presence, but he had not bothered to do anything. Cold and indifferent, the warding on his clothing lit up, swallowing the light without issue.
"Filthy scum," He snarled, not even bothering to draw his sword. Lord Zariel slowly stepped through the threshold and peered up at the hundreds of undead on the upper floors of the spiraling library. In no mood for games, a glint of carnage willed itself into his now scarlet eyes.
Hovering off the ground, the Young Master's body seemed to become transparent as he appeared on the second floor, behind one of the undead mages. Slapping the back of its head, the image of brain matter splatting through the air, killing it instantly filled his sights.
"How I have grown tired of this little game." Said the Young master as he danced around the library, reaping the lives of the undead in a matter of an eye blink.
He lifted his head towards the center of the library where a surge of essence lay hidden, burning with a seething rage, causing the very tower to shake at his presence; Young Master Zariel spoke, not bothering to hide his discontent. "You will reveal yourself now, or I will cleave this castle in twain, leaving nothing behind but your broken dreams."
Silence descended, and a mysterious voice sounded, "I-I have heard of you. The fallen child of House Lazarus. It's an honor if one should be had."
Zariel took a deep breath to appease his fury and narrowed his eyes, waiting for this mysterious voice to continue, "I don't have much time, and neither do you. The Black Hand is on the move."
Not surprised by this information, irritation continued to build in his heart. "You will get to the point. Why did you take what is mine?"
The man hidden behind the aura shivered, and his heart felt an invisible pressure arise. He was sure the young boy could not see him. But here he was shaking, at the cold nature of this child.
"We felt the aura of Tiamat and foresaw that girls rise. The Seer saw wings of gold and black, gripping a sword of the brightest dawn, shimming gold around the sea of chaos. She saw war and chaos, but in that chaos held an order, that seemed to carve the will of gods, and lords."
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