"Gone." Said Caine.
"Where?"
"What does it matter?"
"He saved my life!"
"He?" questioned Caine, as if he had struck him across the face. "That thing is not a person."
"Okay, let's calm down." Said Kalou. "Stolas, are you alright?" Stolas assessed himself, and just now realised bandages wrapped around ninety percent of his body. His hair stopped at his chest, burnt at the ends. Dots of blood sprung through his dressings from his wounds and stained his nightshirt. I look terrible, he thought. He sighed. "I'm alright. Although, I cannot say the same for those boys." Rook and Icarus jumped as he addressed them. "Why does Rook stand crooked, and Icarus have a bruise around his neck?" Said Stolas, his voice ice cold. Both averted their eyes. "Am I going to get any answers from you?" The tension fogged the room as it settled in an ugly, awkward silence. "Rook, tell me what happened."
"I uh," he hesitated, "I don't know if I-"
"Tell him." said Kalou with his head in his hands.
Stolas's face dropped - and turned to disgust - as Rook told of how his brother had treated them in his grief. On top of his murderous actions in the auditorium, the person his brother revealed himself to be in this incident Stolas truly resented.
"When I woke up, everyone peered over the edge of the ravine. The angel, it-he was climbing with you over his shoulder. Everything was on fire, your hair, even his robes. Then the dragons started circling. The angel struggled, he couldn't climb and defend at the same time, so their flames kept scathing past as he tried to dodge. The whole time he shouted something at you in another language, but it was too unclear to make out." Stolas grit his teeth, his eyebrows knitted together. Fiddling with the burnt ends of his hair, he strayed to wonder how the angel fared. It would be a shame, he thought, for his long fair hair to have been cut short.
"How did we reach the top?" asked Stolas.
"I stole Caine's bow and shot down the dragons that got too close." Kalou interjected. His expression sorrowful, as if begging for a slither of redemption in his brother's eyes. "I'm not a perfect archer, but it helped. Éirean and the twins rained down rocks to drive them away. After that, it took the angel seconds to reach the top. He flew over the edge and rolled to a stop, extinguishing the flames that had almost entirely consumed his outer robes. You lay in his arms, blood streaming from your eyes and covered in ash. I…" he choked up. "I was so happy to see you alive."
"What happened to the angel? Where is he?" Stolas let desperation seep into his voice a little.
"Why do you care so much about whether that beast lives or dies?" said Caine, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Do you not understand how useful he could be? He can communicate, he is expressive. We can gain so much information about their kind and their motives behind all this. I mean shit, we don't even know where they are based! They could be anywhere in Kraeta." Stolas threw up his hands. "We need him, and he has been nothing but good to me. I know he will not harm me."
"How could you possibly know that?" Caine spat.
"Because he jumped into a pit of dragon fire to save me! He braced the boulders on his back so I would not be crushed in the debris, defended me against dragons and carried me back to safety. How can you be so prejudiced towards their race? They may not all be as terrible as you believe."
"How would you feel if an angel killed your brother?" Caine's face fell flat, his voice monotone. Stolas recoiled, whiplashed by his words. The muscle in Caine's jaw twitched, and he turned to leave. "It is injured," he said without turning back. "But alive." Leaving the brothers astonished, he swiftly vanished outside.
They remained fixed on the doorway minutes after he left. This is the first real thing I know about him, thought Stolas. He pictured his father, shaken to the core in front of that claw. Both witnessed whatever befell Caine's brother, and it traumatised them.
"Kalou, do you know who Caine's brother is?"
"Not a clue," he said with a tragic expression. "I understand him. When I thought I lost you, I felt that pain and it sucks you dry, fills you with rage. It is no wonder he harbours resentment."
"Hey! Is it true that he is awake?" Éirean burst into the room and beamed the moment he set eyes on Stolas. "Hey are you okay? We thought you were dead, your royal highness- ah, I mean Stolas," he laughed. "Can I get you anything?"
"No thank you, in fact, would all of you leave me? I have a lot to think about."
"Stolas-" He shot Kalou down with but a glance. Kalou bit his lip and peeled himself off the bed, lingering for a little longer than needed before exiting the room with everyone else.
"By the way." Stolas yelled. Kalou's hand halted around the handle. "Graer died. When the glass fell." The door slammed shut.
"Tch," Stolas sighed, running his hands down his face. As he let everything settle, the headache that he had ignored since awakening spread around the back of his head and squeezed. His skin crawled and his body pulsed, every injury in the most painful state of healing where slight movements would tear everything open again. "What a mess," he groaned, leaning back on the bed.
Stolas flinched as a gleam of silver twinkled and blinded his right eye. Refracting moonlight from between the swaying curtains, he spied the curved blade he implanted into the Virtue's shoulder resting on his bedside table. The corners of his mouth crept up. "I knew I would see you again." He whispered to himself, picking it up. An idea raised an inquisitive brow. There is no way he is still here, is there? The window to the balcony remained half open, and the longer he observed it, the more the compulsion to check grew. Burying the pain of his injuries, he shifted out of bed. As he put weight on his feet, his legs fell out from under him, and he grasped at the nightstand for support. With laboured breath and determination, Stolas pulled himself back up and stumbled over to the balcony, just taking hold of the bannister before he fell once again. The wind removed his hair from his eyes, and the dramatic view of the town below greeted him. From high in the master's chambers of Lord Solomon's castle, Stolas witnessed Jünden from above.
The wind carried the smoke from the fiery pit across the town, cloaking it in a dark veil. Thick air choked the small lights shining from the windows and street lanterns. An already gothic city plunged into further darkness; the atmosphere weighed heavy on his heart. Stolas spun the dagger between his fingers, his brow creasing into a concerned frown. "What am I doing?" He muttered into his hand. A traitor to his own motive, Stolas awoke to the fact he left on this journey for selfish reasons. The exhilarating curiosity that consumed him the moment that angel attacked him in his bed, the thirst for knowledge on something so austere and unknown. That is what drives me, he thought. I care not for the people, only the beings that captured them. Stolas launched his brother's dagger far into the distance. "I'm no better than you are, Kalou." he slumped back against the wall.
Stolas remained outside for a time, letting frost form on his lashes and bite his fingers. Blocking out the pain focusing on the scent of smoke curling underneath his nose, he hid in his void, and curled up in his metaphorical corner, waiting and trying to remember. As he divorced from reality, long metallic talons curled over the stone bannister and gripped. The Virtue landed in front of the prince without a sound, like a falling flower at the turn of spring. Without his outer robe, his arms and shoulders lay bare the elements, enveloped only by stray strands of pale hair and a bandage over his shoulder. He stood over him, peering down at Stolas and keeping his measured gaze fixed on him. Like a cat awaiting the mouse to move, he crouched down, inching closer as he gaged Stolas' level of consciousness. Tilting his head, he slipped off a silver gauntlet revealing long white fingers fading into black at the tips. His elegant brow creased with concern behind his mask as he pressed the back of his hand to Stolas' forehead.
"Hm." The angel sighed, extending his gentle touch under Stolas' chin and tilting his jaw to the side. A thumb kept him in place and two fingers measured his pulse. "Ol lava, apila, balit el."
"It didn't heal!" Stolas cried as he woke. His breath slowed, summoning a grin from ear to ear. "It didn't heal." The prince threw aside his covers and staggered his way to the door slamming it open. "Caine! Come here! Help me!" Stolas ran his hand back through his hair with laughter. "Oh my god. This is not-" his speeding train of thought grated to a halt as he lay eyes on his bed. Bed? But I fell asleep outside… his eyes widened even further as two scattered items on his sheets left him dumbfounded. One he previously disregarded for the third time, and another foreign object next to it. For the first time in his life too much information swirled through his brain, and it ceased to function. "What?" He shouted, clutching his head.
"What is all the noise for, are you dying?" Said Caine huffing against the doorframe.
"No no no you don't understand, everything just became so confusing and… and so so much easier. You don't get it-"
Caine smacked his hand to Stolas' forehead.
"Not a fever, have you finally gone mad?"
"No, I have not. Caine," he lowered his voice to an enticing whisper. "I have just become your most effective weapon."
Downstairs, the group gathered around the fire for breakfast. All sat in a tense circle waiting for the update on whatever it was that sparked Stolas' early morning revelation, all grievances tossed aside for the time being. The maids danced around them, delegating fine dishes laden with rich fried meats and dairy products before seeing themselves out. Stolas settled for Caine's soup, having loaned the kitchen staff his scroll.
"Tell them what you told me." Said Caine.
"I can kill them." He said. Kalou and Éirean simultaneously raised their eyebrows.
"Huh?" They said in unison.
"I can kill angels without the blade! I was too distracted to notice before, but in the fire pit I grazed the angel's cheek with one of my bone spears-"
"One of your what?" Kalou somehow took on an even stronger aghast expression.
"-and it never healed. Something like that would disappear almost instantly for them. And he looked so shocked. I stabbed him in the shoulder back on the road and he instantly forgot about Caine's barrage of arrows. I can kill them with my own two hands. Do you know what this means?" Caine grinned. "I can kill Belial. I am excited, yet I understand less about myself and him now than ever."
"How so? Surely this helps you?" Asked Éirean.
"Not at all." Stolas gripped his chair. "As for myself, the angels seemed as surprised as I am, which means I am a mystery to everyone involved and with the Virtue well… If I have been hurting him this whole time, if I am such a threat why does he help me? Did you know he carried me to bed last night?"
"Excuse me?" Caine screamed.
"I tried to lure him in, but I got too involved in my own head to notice when he showed up." Grumbled Stolas. "He seems hellbent on returning the dagger you gave me." He gestured to Kalou. "So, I threw it from the balcony. I wake up the next day and there it is on my bed next to me." Stolas reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial. "Next to this."
"What is that?" Said the three men.
"I have absolutely no idea." The vial contained a sheening liquid that reflected blue light and smoked up the bottle in a glittering mist, like nothing anyone on this plane had ever seen before. A silence filled the room. "Do you suppose I should drink it?"
"You really have lost your mind." Caine tutted.
"I will test it." Kalou rose from his chair, sending the cutlery clattering over the table. Even without his full armour, his brother is a huge man, and without any sense of spatial awareness outside of combat. "Hand it over." He said snatching it from him. Kalou popped the cork with one thumb and brought the vial to his lips. Just as the cool glass grazed over his bottom lip it fell from between his fingers. Éirean swatted his hand sending it flying and caught the falling bottle before a drop could be spilt. "Éirean, what are you doing?"
"Come on Kalou, if this is some kind of poison it would make the most sense for me to die out of the four of us. I'm nobody." He said, matter of fact.
"You are my right-hand man. Let someone else do it. I forbid you." Éirean smiled.
"Sorry my prince, I am going to have to go against your orders just this one time, okay?" Éirean threw his head back and took a gulp. Everyone looked on, wide eyed and afraid to blink. Éirean screwed up his face. "That tasted odd."
"How do you feel?" Asked Stolas. Éirean paused, assessing himself.
"No, I-I feel fine." he hesitated. "Shit, do you think that we weren't meant to drink i-" The soldier doubled over as he choked on his screams.
"Éirean!" Kalou vaulted over the table to catch his friend that collapsed in pain, a gargling mess. "No, no, no Stolas! Stolas what was in that bottle, what is wrong with him?" He cried. Stolas froze, appalled.
"I don't know…" he mumbled, white as a sheet. As Éirean thrashed in pain Caine launched into action, holding him down.
"Hey there soldier boy, come on, calm down. I can't deal with these two on my own you know." Éirean opened his mouth so wide he could dislocate his jaw and unleashed an inhuman, retching scream of concentrated agony. Both hands shot to claw at his chest and ripped the fabric of his shirt. With all his effort he could only shout one mangled word.
"Scar!"
"What did he just say?" Asked Caine. It clicked.
"Look at his scar. Kalou look at his scar!" His brother ripped the rest of Éirean's clothing from his chest. Smoke sizzled from his chest following the borders of the scar. Travelling down his abdomen and leaving behind it pure unblemished skin. Healing. Stolas watched his skin as its tone evened in the opposite direction of his affliction. "It's as if he is reliving the injury, in reverse." Éirean's screams turned to sobs as the process slowed.
"Kalou, make it stop, please!" He cried in his delirium.
"It's nearly over, just bear with it a little longer. You're fine." Kalou wiped the sweat from his friend's head with a shaking hand, yet a smile grew on his face. Stolas' eyes drifted to the vial half spilled onto the table.
"He wanted to heal me." Stolas trailed off. He dived for the vial…and fell like a sack of bricks to the floor. Caine flattened him.
"That felt good." Said Caine, massaging his knuckles.
"Treason." Éirean mumbled.
"Why did you knock him out?" Said Kalou as he hoisted Éirean up to a chair, the final tendrils of smoke dissipating into the air. "Here have some water."
"He should drink it." Said Éirean into his glass as he downed it.
"Éirean take a look at yourself, you have tears streaming down your face-"
"And an unblemished body. Even the soreness of my throat from crying is healed. Do I sound raspy to you?"
"Am I the only one who saw what just happened?" Said Caine throwing his arms in the air.
"Yes, well thanks to you, he is knocked clean out on the floor and won't feel a damn thing. Stolas is covered in injuries and since we have been throwing that vial about there is only a small amount left. I am his brother and I hold authority here. That is the end of it."
"Kalou-"
"Do you want your angel killer or not?" He snapped.
"I really am fine. I've honestly never felt better." Chimed Éirean.
"I do not know how you people changed your tune so quickly. You were both screaming less than a minute ago."
"Yeah, when I thought I was dying. Now the worst part is mild trauma and that I need a new wardrobe."
"Fine. Let him drink it. But I need to amend my contract of responsibility to exclude Stolas after this." Said Caine, pinching his nose. "You are all too much of a headache."
"Wow you were looking out for one brother and not the other. That sounds like favouritism to me."
"Keep talking and that body will not remain unblemished for long."
"Wow, are you coming into me master Caine? I knew you were up to something when you made us wear those disguises." Éirean laughed. "Oh, do you think I'm a virgin again now, since it healed everything? Maybe my soul is brighter."
"You weren't a virgin to begin with?" Kalou grinned.
"Who could resist this?"
"Whatever cry-baby." Kalou jeered. Éirean's jaw dropped in offence.
"I'm leaving, have a good day." Caine shouted as he left the room. "Lord save me from my own mistake."