An Angel’s Road to Hell

Cassandra Pendragon

For the next half hour we managed to retreat into our own little world without any worries of what might be and had breakfast in bed. We talked about insignificant things like the armour Aspera had worn and if its style might be suitable for either of us and we laughed a lot when we imagined Xorlosh wearing it instead. Not until we had finished with the meal and were comfortably sipping on mildly spiced tea did we get around to talk about more serious topics. While I was smiling contently and snuggled deeper into the cushions, Ahri suddenly touched my arm gently and spoke in a much heavier tone than before:

“Now that we have a quiet moment, I’d like to tell you my story and what I know about the Arete family and my past. Would you like to hear it?” I sat up straight.

“Of course. But why do you sound like you’re on edge?” She gave me a coy smile.

“You’ll know soon enough. Well, here it goes…” she spoke passionately, at first, about the small colony of kitsune far to the north and the little valley they called home. She told me about her fateful first hunt and what her grandmother had said about their origins afterwards. Most of it I already knew but I still listened closely, eager to get to know a side of her she had always kept hidden.

Her voice became strained when she told me how she had left her home in search for me, without looking back and I had to keep my temper in check when she described how she had developed her fourth tail. It didn’t get any better from there.

Ahri Arete

About 7 years ago

It had been two weeks since I had left my home and headed south. The other passenger on the air ship were friendly enough but I mostly stayed to myself, occupied with thoughts of what I had left behind, where I was heading to and whom I had accepted as my charge without ever meeting her in person. I felt homesick more often than not but every time I was on the verge of disembarking and looking for a passage back home, a cute face with fluffy ears appeared before my eyes and I couldn’t get myself to abandon her.

My cabin was close to the bow, the chutes from the furnaces ran below and made it cozily warm but also filled it with the low rumbling of moving air. The sound and low vibrations lulled me to sleep most nights and despite my anxieties I usually didn’t wake up until the sun poked in through the porthole. This night was different.

When I rose from my slumber I wasn’t sure what had woken me at first. Nothing seemed off and the cold light of a new moon shone through the window. Tired and disorientated I rolled around with the intention of going back to sleep. The ship was sailing through the night steadily and no alarm had been sounded. There was nothing to worry about. When my eyes closed and my consciousness drifted away I heard it again. A strangled cry followed by a quiet thud and the even quieter scraping of something heavy being dragged along the deck.

I was alert in an instant and quickly headed for my clothes and dagger. Should I scream and try to wake everyone? Probably for the best, if it was a false alarm, I’d apologise later. While I was shrugging into my pants I already wailed like a banshee: “intruders, wake up, enemies on board!” After I was dressed I snatched my dagger and quietly left my cabin. The corridor outside ran along the whole length of the ship with a set of stairs on both ends that allowed access to the deck and the two floors below the passenger area. Muffled sound could already be heard form most of the cabins as the occupants groggily got up. Fuzzy “What’s up?”s and “Who’s attacking?”s could be heard but no door opened yet. Form the deck, on the other hand, I could now clearly hear the clatter of soft-soled feet and quietly issued commands my kitsune hearing allowed me to understand: “seal the entrances. Use the gas. We’ll wait until they are down and take the valuables and everyone worth the trouble. Throw the dead overboard.” I suppressed a curse and quickly headed back to my room and towards the porthole. With the back of my dagger I smashed in the reinforced glass, which tumbled down towards the raging sea like a shower of stars.

Small and flexible like I was I easily pulled my body through the hole and sunk my claws into the hull. Not all kitsune were born with retractable claws, only a scarce few still retained the trait, but it was bloody useful. Together with my tails I was as agile as a monkey and scaled the ship’s side effortlessly.

From my new vantage point I could see a second air ship above ours with deep red sails and a black flag depicting a skull and crossed bones. Pirates! I knew they were a problem in the south, or at least I had gathered as much from the conversations of the other passengers, but I had never imagined I’d meet them myself.

Long ropes were dangling from their ship and they had already gained control of our deck, I counted 9 shadowy figures that moved through the darkness. Of the guards on watch I saw nothing but bloody smears on the planks. A tiny part of my brain wondered why I wasn’t terrified but most of my concentration was used to calculate how I might possibly get them off of our ship. We were on board a two-masted vessel, the deck filled with cables, crates, bags and spare parts for the rigging. Close to the bow and heck two small structures sported arbalests on top and the huge doors that lead down below. The doors had been barred with planks and crates that had been pushed in front and two pirates stood guard close by. The remaining five used light signals to communicate with their vessel and guide a large crate down from above onto our deck. That was probably the machine they’d use to deploy the gas.

Reverberating knocks and muffled shouts started to come from behind the barricaded doors and the pirates started to shuffle their feet nervously while the carte was getting ever closer. Whatever I was going to do, I’d have to do it now. I had two objectives, the most important one was to open one of the doors, preferably the one in the bow as the knocks coming from there were much stronger and even made the improvised blockade tremble. Secondly, if possible, I’d have to stop the crate, preferably in a way that would distract the pirates long enough for whoever was hammering in the door to get through.

As I surveyed the scene, clinging to the hull just below the railing, a small smile formed on my face. One of the pirates was already inspecting the crates and bags, in spite of the ruckus and had involuntarily moved away from his comrades. A large bow and a full quiver hung from his back. I had an insane idea. If I managed to kill him silently I’d have a chance to at least get one or two shots off before the rest would notice me. If I could shoot one of the ropes the crate was anchored with and then the other I’d be able to roughly control in which direction it would fall. If it crashed into the fortification in front of the door, I’d be rather confident that the flimsy barricade would crumble. All I had to do was get the weapon and hit two hard shots. It still seemed more appealing than any form of open conflict against 9 grown men.

As stealthy as I could I crept along the outer railing towards the point closest to the straggler. I waited until a stiff breeze made the crate above tumble in the wind and an especially loud bang on the door made the pirates flinch. Quick as a thought and just as silent a dashed over the side and rushed towards my target. He wouldn’t have the time to react and I had already positioned my dagger to enter his left side and pierce the lung and heart when I’d crash into him. I didn’t get that far. I didn’t know if he had heard something or if it was just bad luck but when I was about three meters away from him her turned around.

His face froze for an instant before a lecherous grin spread across his features and a deft movement brought a hidden blade from his sleeve to his hand. I was much too close to dodge and with his longer reach he easily brushed away my dagger and imbedded his weapon in my stomach. Pain rushed through my body as the icy thorn scraped against my lower rips and blood gushed form the wound. I gasped and stumbled into his waiting arms. “Don’t worry, we won’t waste your last hours before sepsis gets ya, my sweet,” he hissed into my ear. As his words got through to me and I imagined what the next hours would bring, I crumbled. For a moment I was a 12 year old again and I was scared, scared to death.

But when his calloused hand grabbed the back of my neck and he called over to his friends something within me changed. A dam broke and power flooded through my veins. My fear turned to anger and then hatred and I thought I heard a silky voice whisper: “so soon…”. I felt a crushing force behind the flow of energy, ready to tear me apart but it was kept at bay by an invisible barrier and instead it ignited my magic. It didn’t matter much to me. My wound closed and I felt a prickly feeling on my lower back but all I cared for was the strength that flowed through my limps and the power at the tips of my fingers. With a shrug I broke the grip of my assailant, grabbed him around the hip and threw him over board. With a blood curdling scream he soared the 5 meters through the air before he vanished below the railing and his cries became more distant by the second. The other ruffians didn’t hesitated and charged me, which turned out to be the last mistake they’d ever make. Information on different fighting styles and offensive spells flooded my mind. I slaughtered them all. I was faster, stronger, magic streamed from my lips and my movements were perfect. 15 bloody seconds later I was alone on the deck, bathed in gore.

With a snap the crate came rushing down, the straps cut and I could smell the smoke as the furnaces of the pirate vessel warmed up and they quickly gained hight, leaving their dead behind. For a moment I thought about going for one of the ropes still dangling below it, a wind disc would get me there quickly. I might manage to reach the ship and put an end to the whole crew for good, but it was risky and I couldn’t imagine that they’d bother us, or anyone else for that matter, any time soon. The surge of energy was already dissipating so I hurried to move some crates and open the door. A bunch of other passengers tumbled through, weapons drawn. When they saw the massacre on deck and the blood spatters on my clothes they bombarded me with questions. I couldn’t answer much, I wasn’t sure what had happened myself, but a rather well performed lie about a malfunctioning artefact and dumb luck got them off my case for now. I didn’t think they believed me completely, but I also didn’t really care.

After they had grilled me, everybody busied themselves with the corpses, checking if anyone was still breathing, which no one was, the pirate ship had long since disappeared behind a cloud. I approached the body of the one I thought had been the leader and quickly went through his possessions. I also took a moment to closely scrutinise his face and the myriad of tattoos that covered his body.

And there, on the back of his head, hidden under his greasy hair and within his pirate tattoos was a small mark. Inconspicuous and lifeless, now that the supporting heart wasn’t beating anymore. I didn’t pay too much attention to it but I also didn’t know yet how much pain the small glyph, formed like a red crown, would cause me seven years later.

About seven years later

With a sigh I looked back up from the pillow I had been playing with. Cassy’s eyes were glowing stronger than I had seen since she woke up, she emitted a faint pressure and I could smell ozone as if her wings were on the verge of materialising. But her gaze was soft and understanding, she had curled her tails around me sometime during my story and her voice was compassionate when she said: “you couldn’t have know. Ahri, do you hear me? You couldn’t have possibly known,” I couldn’t meet her eyes anymore and dropped my gaze back down onto the pillow. “Yeah, but it’s also not the part I’m nervous to tell you about. Like I said, I dreamed when I fell unconscious after the battle for Boseiju…”

I didn’t need to breath but I still felt like I was suffocating. Glass cracked under my heavy boots when I shuffled uncomfortably and allowed my gaze to leave the crater I was standing in. Thick swaths of smoke and charged clouds of plasma obscured my view and hid me from the stars above. Good, I didn’t want to be seen like this, a herald of destruction in the middle of her despicable harvest. Was I doing the right thing? Can you be on the right path if you don’t want witnesses to your actions? With at thought my wings of fire pierced the heavy air and carried me into the sky, leaving behind nothing but the burned desolation of a thriving civilisation.

When I had passed above the crater’s walls I slowed down and took in the devastation all around. Until the curve of the horizon obscured my view, all I could see was ash. Ash and black lumps of glass that grew from the earth like the accusing fingers of the dead. Nothing had survived my blast, no building, no skeleton, no artefact. Heavenly judgement was swift and without compromise and distinction, it was absolute. I felt a tear trickle down my face and brushed it away energetically. It had had to be done. I had promised. But then, why did I feel like a traitor? It wasn’t the first time I had taken lives on this scale, so that couldn’t be it. Was it because I had done it for something they were going to do and not a deed already committed? Or was it because I knew what Lucifer would do to me if he ever found out? Damned by all the demons, I couldn’t go on like this.

Another surge of red fire crashed against the mutilated husk of a planet as I channeled enough energy into my wings to carry me to another place in a different universe.

The Star of Glass was an anomaly. It was the only place in the multiverse that was created solely from transcendent energies and it looked the part. Orbiting the largest black hole I had ever seen was a perfect globe of dark obsidian. It was maybe 100 kms in radius and nearly indiscernible in the few rays of light that managed to escape the black hole’s pull in the shadow of the fortress. There were only a handful of beings in existence who knew about this place and only three of them could reach it. It was Amazeroth’s stronghold, the castle of the mirror king and the largest library in all the multiverse and a place I had hoped I’d never have to visit again.

With a though I turned into a red ray of fire and sped towards the fortress, the gravitational forces no more than a mild irritant. I passed through the outer walls easily, their transcendent enchantments proved as much of an obstacle to me as a wooden palisade would to a battle tank and materialised in the antechamber of the great library. Going further without an invitation would be as rude as kicking in the door. I was in an opulently decorated room, golden chandeliers with crystallised flames illuminated the chamber, emphasising the mosaics of gems along the walls with their colourful light. The ceiling was high above and showed an abstract depiction I was sure I had seen before but couldn’t place. It showed a demon in front of a huge tree with different sentient races all along the branches. I thought I even saw some intricately carved animal faces within the canopy but it was too far away to make out every detail.