Late night in the old ruins was black and cold, a combination a young woman abhorred, to put it lightly. What the moon- and lamp-light lit up brilliantly in the city was now dragged down into a vortex of darkness in this place. Asiona would never be used to the chill that crept up her spine on the first step into the ‘desolate’ district, as she thought of it. Desolate of life, with only howling wind and crumbling stones to its name. And monsters. Monsters she had glimpsed in the shadows but who had never approached her. Monsters which perhaps had a new member in their ranks, an act of her own doing…
At the thought she tugged at the shawl draped over her shoulders. Under her long-skirted flower-patterned dress she wore thick wooly stockings. The pattern of flowers was tastefully colored in subdued tones and matched the baby doll cut of her dress. In one hand she held a canvas bag filled with carefully wrapped, raw eat. In her other hand there was a thick tome, frayed on the edges with a worn spine. Its pages were folded and notes stuck out from them every which-way, most in someone else’s hand but hers. Most older than even Mr. David’s.
Asiona stepped carefully through the rubble and stray foliage, peering around corners and over walls lest a beast jump out and consume her. She hurried while trying to be as quiet as possible, which made her trip up a number of times. And each time she thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, or thought the howling of the wind was a banshee’s cry, she wished someone like Railtus could be here to vanquish the darkness. Someone who was bright enough to overcome the heavy dread around this place.
A knight in shining armor. She was coming here for him.
Up ahead as she crept along, the tower she had claimed rose over the other decrepit buildings. Chunks were missing from its walls and it leaned on one side. What used to be arrow-slit windows were now formless holes. And there was a light shining on the top floor. She stepped into one of the carved out chunks that was once a doorway but had been destroyed by some long forgotten war—of humans or nature she had no clue. Stairs wound up along the walls, most of them missing from their rightful place and now resting on the floor, overeaten by moss and vines sprouting somehow from the dirt floor. Up the girl climbed, jumping over chasms and testing each new stair. Crumbs of dirt and stone scattered down. Above there was silence and a flickering light.
On the highest platform, sitting beside the spell construct that summoned him here, was Lateus. He turned from hovering over the single burning candle when she entered. “I lit this for you,” he said, his voice deep and dry like the gravel around him. It was the same voice that lingered inside her mind. It was comforting to hear again. His wild amber hair, almost a light orange or brown, fell over part of his face and scattered on the back of his neck and shoulder-blades. It cried for a haircut. Pointed ears stuck out from the mess, and black tattoos peeked out from his tattered clothing. Asiona met his eyes, green meeting orange.
“Thank you,” she replied brightly and approached him. Lightly alighting on her knees and opening the canvas bag she retrieved the meat and handed it to him. Greed shone in his eyes and he took it, smelling the death emanating from the packages. And the blood that soaked the wrappings. He unfolded it like a birthday present and ripped into it with his strangely pointed teeth. Asiona watched him silently a moment, ponderous, then went to the spell construct on the floor.
The candle the demon had lit for her was part of the 8--pointed star symbol. Every vertex and apex had one, though unlit. The construct was self-made from scraps of piping and old candelabras or candleholders, the pipes forming the lines and fitting into cutouts at the bottom of the candleholders. She began to yank them out and pile them into her canvas bag, then the candles and their holders. She left the lit candle where it was and sat down again by Lateus, this time Indian-style.
He paused in his chewing to look at her and say, “I know your thoughts. And who they stem from. It’s because of this Railtus that you’re thinking of me that way…” He trailed off and took another bite. Silence but for the sound of his devouring filled the tower. Wind howled through the gaping windows for a moment. When it was done, Asiona said quietly, “I don’t know what you are. You never told me. But I think my soul knows as I feel you…go through me…” She trailed off too. They seemed to be sharing thoughts as well as words. Her tone was argumentative.
He shook his head, a little amused. “You mean ‘inside me’. Feel me inside you. It’s not my fault you weren’t good enough to bring me here completely and make me sovereign.”
“You can’t be sovereign, and you know that already. The bind spell was the only way or you would have faded once the construct stopped working.”
“It’s flimsy at best,” he muttered.
“I know. But I think it’ll do for the angel anyway.”
“I can’t believe you’re going through with that. You don’t even know this man. He could be trying to kill one and steal its powers or something.”
“That sounds like something you would do,” she growled, angry now. “You saw him, too. You know he wouldn’t do that.”
Lateus muttered, “He’s a very good actor, I’ll give him that.”
“Shut up,” she muttered back.
“You’re naïve, Asiona. Mostly I’ve glad for that or I wouldn’t be here. But I’m telling you, you can’t do this. Not without my help. And I refuse to help!”
Asiona sat sullenly now, hunched shoulders and pouty lips. She said quietly, “You’re just afraid of the temptation to…consume, aren’t you?”
He flinched at the accusation. The last bite of meat was put in his mouth and he chewed slowly. “I didn’t mean to think that,” he protested when it was done.
“Lateus!” Asiona encouraged, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I believe in you! You aren’t so horrible as you seem to want to be. You’re partly ‘humane’ now.”
He growled back, rumbling like a lion, “I’m a…I’m a…Not a…” Despite his threatening voice he couldn’t get the words out. It weakened his argument.
“A demon,” she finished, a bit brighter than one would expect. “I figured it out. I told you, you lied to me. I forgive you.”
“And you’re asking me to stop acting like what I am!” he cried, galled. His brows drew down and he shook his head. The candle caught his attention and he began to run his hand through it. Asiona didn’t try to stop him, though she wanted to. Right now he didn’t seem to be able to stand being babied.
“I’m doing this with or without you. Now, I’m running out of time. Come with me or stay here, your choice.” She sat up, dignified, or a dominating parent over their stubborn two-year-old.
“Why do I have to come?” he whined, not unlike the metaphor.
“Because the book says so. We’re stronger when we’re closer together. So to do this I’ll need you near me.”
“Fine. But I warned you. There’ll be trouble. Lots of it,” he griped, seeming to almost relish the fact, a little smug. She shook her head and got up. He blew out the candle, watched the smoke in an amazed way, then followed it with his eyes into her bag. They both went down the stairs much the same way Asiona had climbed them, except now with more confidence. Gravel still tumbled down, and their crunching footsteps and the howling wind became the only sound they heard.
With him by her side, she didn’t need to check the shadows for lurking monsters. She didn’t creep around corners and look over her shoulder constantly. Looking up at his wild features and solemn expression she found he was like a big brother or a good friend, his presence bringing security and comfort. He felt it too, and avoided her gaze. She felt better about her ‘mistake’ while with him, wondering less if she had created a monster. Whether that was good or not…
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