In the far northern reaches of the wasteland, all was still and silent beneath a permanent blanket of snow. The only blemish on the endless white came from a castle protruding like a broken hand from the peak of the highest glacier.
The wind gusted through the open windows, filling the halls with its plaintive moan. Nowhere was it colder than the castle's central chamber, its walls so heavily frosted it was difficult to tell where ice ended and stone began.
This was the way General Serac preferred it. He faced the four giant mirrors lining the walls with his arms folded and head held high. Made of ice, the mirrors gleamed like the surface of a frozen lake.
Serac himself might have been carved from ice. Even the hair falling down his back glimmered the same pale blue as the glacier, and his tall, slender horns were nearly transparent. His underlings liked to claim they had never seen him twitch so much as an eyebrow.
Certainly, his expression betrayed none of his annoyance. If he'd had his way, he would have been surveying his domain from the castle ramparts as he did every morning. Unfortunately, even a Grand General of the Infernal Legion answered to something greater than himself.
Just then, Levia bloomed in the air. It was cold too, but in a different way from Serac's – heavy and dark, it smothered all other Levia in its wake. Serac watched impassively as a diagram spread spidery lines across the rightmost mirror, flooding the entire surface black.
The pressure of the Levia deepened, until even Serac had trouble drawing breath. Then it relaxed, just a fraction, but enough. The darkness retreated, revealing a figure within the mirror.
Not Serac's reflection. Instead it was a statuesque woman whose broad, swooping horns dripped with piercings. As she met Serac's gaze, her mouth spread in a grin that revealed razor-sharp teeth.
"Good to see you, General Serac."
Her throaty voice drifted through the mirror, tinny and echoing, but Serac couldn't care less about her greeting. No, he stared in dismay at the rotting corpse in the woman's arms, its half-defleshed head lolling against her shoulder at angle that gave him a perfect view of its frozen grimace.
"That is absolutely foul, General Grave!" Serac snapped. "I know you have your...interests...but could you kindly not inflict them on the rest of us?"
"Oh, Serac." Grand General Grave pursed her lips. "Must you be so rude to my new husband?"
She pressed the corpse to her chest, not seeming to mind the way its arms flopped about, attached to its shoulders only by ragged flaps of skin and sinew.
The corner of Serac's lip curled – about the closest he would allow himself to a sneer. "Did you not have a 'new husband' the last time we spoke? Exactly how fast do you go through those things?"
"There you go again, so tactless," Grave sighed, nuzzling the bare top of the corpse's skull. "You just don't understand our love."
"Oh, you're correct that I don't. At the very least, if you wouldn't mind putting it away for the duration of this council – "
"You would separate a newlywed couple?" Grave squeezed the corpse tighter, heedless of the ominous creaks it emitted. "Forget tact, what you need is a heart!"
Serac sighed inside. Why did he even bother?
A reprieve arrived when the heavy dark Levia deepened again, and a diagram spread across the leftmost mirror. Before long, a new figure appeared within the ice. Hunchbacked and draped in a black cloak, this demon seemed altogether unassuming. What little he could see of her face was carved with deep wrinkles.
Of course, Serac knew not to underestimate the eldest of the Grand Generals. So he inclined his head and said, "Welcome, General Ninox."
General Ninox wheezed out a cackle. "Polite as ever, my boy. Oh, how long has it been?"
"Polite? You wouldn't say that if you knew what sort of names he called my husband," Grave groused.
"Oh, really?" Horror of horrors, Ninox shook a gnarled finger at him. "Now, now, Serac, I thought you were better behaved than that."
Serac ground his back teeth. The sooner he could get this over with, the better. "We're all present, so let's begin."
All present, save for the two mirrors that remained conspicuously empty. Serac had no way of knowing whether the Infernal Lord would deign to appear, and as for the last Grand General...well, his absence was the very reason for this council.
"Already?" Ninox shook her head. "And I wanted to catch up for a little longer."
"Unfortunately, we all have our commitments," Serac said. "You know how difficult it is to coordinate councils in the first place. And with one of us fallen, the rest are left even busier picking up the pieces."
A momentary hush fell, during which Serac only heard the wind howling outside. Grave's shoulders stiffened, while Ninox lifted her chin a fraction.
"Oh, poor Hellebore," Ninox sighed, clasping her hands. "Gone so young. It's such a tragedy."
"More like good riddance," Grave sneered. "That boor treated my husbands even worse than Serac."
"He was a fellow Grand General," Serac said sharply. "Not to mention the one who held the largest command. That even he has fallen is a serious cause for concern."
So he said, but privately he rather had to agree with Grave. The youngest of the Grand Generals couldn't have possessed more than two neurons to rub together. As far as Serac could tell, he never thought about anything that didn't involve fighting or rutting. He would hardly be missed.
"How so? It sounds like it was all his fault," Grave said. "He used extracted Levia without authorization and attempted to command a nature spirit, of all things. I'd say he well and truly got what he deserved. Don't you agree, darling?"
Grabbing the corpse's jaw, she bobbed its head up and down. It was all Serac could do not to roll his eyes.
"I won't deny General Hellebore displayed a stunning lack of judgment," he said. "Still, the facts of the situation remain. Prince Darian has defeated a Grand General. We have suffered our share of losses to her, I will confess, but nothing so great as this."
"Oh, Serac. You worry so much." Ninox even had the temerity to giggle.
Serac opened his mouth, ready to retort that she and Grave were just as worried considering they had agreed to the council in the first place. But before he could, the heavy dark Levia gripped his bones again. Indeed, it struck with such force that all the breath fled his lungs. All he could do was watch as the central mirror turned so black he felt like it was sucking away all the light in the chamber.
After too long, the darkness finally lightened – but it didn't go away entirely. Instead, it resolved into a hulking, formless silhouette.
Well-honed instinct reacted for Serac. He sank to one knee, fist to his chest. Judging by the thuds that echoed through the chamber, the other two generals had done the same.
"My Lord," Serac murmured to the floor.
"My, this is a surprise." Ninox sounded cheerful as ever, but Serac didn't miss the taut edge to her voice. "You didn't need to take the time out of your schedule, my Lord. I would've gladly given a report."
"I am aware, General Ninox." The Infernal Lord's voice rumbled across the chamber, almost as deep as his Levia. "Nonetheless, I wish to say my piece."
Serac remained silent, as did the other two. None would question their Lord.
"General Hellebore has fallen. That is true. But while Prince Darian may have defeated one of us, she cannot defeat us all. Now more than ever, we must unite and face her as one. And no matter what, we will stop her."
"Yes, my Lord," all three chorused. Unite as one. It wasn't the way of the Infernal Legion; each Grand General acted with autonomy, commanding their own regions and pursuing their own projects. Indeed, the very thought of having to work together with Grave made Serac feel ill.
Still, he would hardly dream of defying the Infernal Lord's order. And...though he didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, he couldn't help but remember the moment he had first learned of Hellebore's defeat. Intellectually he could tell himself the idiot had earned it, but all the same...a prickle of dread had run down his spine anyway.
As a Grand General, he feared only the Infernal Lord. And he would very much like to keep it that way.
~*~
After the other two left the council, General Ninox remained in front of her mirror. The dark form within it stirred, slowly facing her.
"There is one last mission I entrust only to you."
Ninox lifted her head. "Why, of course. I'm honored."
"The boy. The homunculus knight's wizard. I had him in my hands, but it was not long enough. Still, I confirmed my suspicions. He does possess Sarieva's Levia."
Ninox breathed in, but didn't react otherwise. "I'll bring him to you in no time."
"I await the good news." Though flatly stated, the words held an echo of warmth.
Ninox grinned in response. Coming from anyone else, even a Grand General, the Infernal Lord might have seen it as unforgivable rudeness. But just as she expected, he didn't utter a word of complaint.