An Angel’s Road to Hell

Zara Dawnheart

“You stupid whore,” he growled in my ear while his fingers dug ever deeper into my neck. My breath was choked off, tiny stars erupted in my vision and I felt his long nails tear through my skin. Crimson blood and hot tears wetted the linen as I tried to struggle free, to squirm out from underneath the suffocating weight but he only redouble his grip. “I’ve had enough,” he hissed. “You’re a bigger pain to deal with than those ancient cowards in the council. I’d rather deal with them than spend another day pretending.” His fingers loosened and I managed a single, rattling breath before his fists came raining down. My ribs broke, I convulsed when he hit my stomach and darkness claimed my world when he flipped me over and pressed my face into the pillows.

“You would have survived, you know,” he continued quietly, even though I could barely hear him over my own, thundering heartbeat and the creaking of the mattress. “But now even my father understands that you’re too stubborn to be kept alive. The only reason why you haven’t been buried yet is your magic. Tell me, what did you do? How did you break the familiar’s bond? It shouldn’t be possible, especially for a child like you. Tell me the truth and all of this will be over. Tell me what you did and the pain will stop.” To emphasise his point he grabbed my left wrist and pulled until the joint in my shoulder jumped from the socket.

A strangled, muffled scream tore from my throat but the soft silk turned it into a pathetic whimper. I could almost picture his cruel sneer as he wrapped his arm around my neck and forcefully arched my back. Numbness raced through my legs and I could hear my tendons groan. “Tell me whom you turned to, tell me who helped you and I’ll make it quick. Or you can keep resisting. Please do, the night is still young and I’ve got a whole plethora of ideas what I could do to you.”

Snivelling I tried to wriggle my legs into a less torturous position but as soon as I moved he bit my ear and tore the upper part clean off. Another trail of blood trickled down my face, joining the crimson streaks, dripping from a myriad of lacerations. I was so fucked. I had thought, I had believed that they’d come for me. I had offered everything I had, I had pledged myself to a dream come true and now I was alone, alone and forsaken and at the mercy of a monster in elven skin. It was too late. I wouldn’t survive the night and there wasn’t much of a point in prolonging my suffering. But still… a stubborn, unyielding voice in my head kept insisting, kept pushing. Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes and it’d be alright.

Ever since I had bonded with a creature of light and flame I had felt her warmth on my back, radiating out from the centre of the slave tattoo that had been forced onto me, and she wasn’t prepared to let me go. I knew it was futile, they, both of them, they weren’t here. The week was almost up but I wouldn’t make it to the end. I would die in this room, either as a mutilated, broken piece of meat or with my dignity intact. At least that was what our so called prince wanted me to believe. Unfortunately I didn’t. Once I’d have told him what I knew he would lose every bit of restraint. My only chance was to hold on long enough to pass out but with his magic healing the worst of my injuries that was just a pipe dream, about as likely to come true as me walking out of here alive. I was hurting too badly to become enraged but I promised myself to keep my mouth shut, whatever he’d do to me. The agony shouldn’t have been bearable but every time I recalled the day of my engagement I found another speck of courage, the lifeless, empty expressions of my family, as their intestines slowly dripped from their mouths, a rallying call that allowed me to push through another wave of searing pain.

“Fine,” he whispered in my ear. “Have it your way. You think you can last?” His slim fingers travelled down my side almost caressingly until they found the delicate protrusions of my broken ribs. “Think again.” I screamed, blood and spittle a disgusting pink foam in the corners of my mouth, as his nails dug deep and his grip tightened around the fractured bones.

I lost consciousness for a moment, the tide of torturous agony too much for me to cope with, but when I opened my eyes again blearily, blinking away bloody tears, my chest was whole again. Only the faint tickling of spent energy and the slightly red look of newly grown skin remained as a reminder of where he had torn me open like a butchered pig. He was straddling me, his cold eyes only a handspan away from my face, an insane fire burning in their fathomless depths. “Oh, not yet, Zara,” he cooed, “we aren’t finished and you haven’t told me what I need to know. Who? Who would dare come into my palace and undo my own work?” For the first time since he had stormed into my chambers ten minutes ago I answered, even though my voice was slurred and barely louder than a broken whisper:

“You… you don’t want… to know. Should she see… what you’ve done… she’ll make you pay… for every little thing…” I couldn’t go on, a punch to the liver silenced me as effectively as a gag.

“Make me pay,” he snarled. “Here? In my own home? You’re delusional. You couldn’t even put up more of a fight than a scared kitten and you’re from one of our strongest lines. Even if there was someone stronger than me… no one can reach me here, no one can even come close to me…”

“Can’t they? I’d be more careful when it comes to courting death. Not that it matters. Not anymore.” We froze, entwined upon the bed, almost like lovers in a caring embrace, as a wave of heat surged through the room and crimson light illuminated my chambers. I still couldn’t move, his weight held me in place like shackles of flesh and blood, but over his paling face I saw the first sparks and tiny flames gnawing at the ceiling. While his expression quickly cycled through disbelief, anger and just a hint of fear I felt… safe. The very same feeling that had come over me when I had invited a goddess of ages past into my life engulfed me again and despite my injuries, despite my pain I smiled. I couldn’t see her but the warming, pulsing feather on my back told me exactly who had appeared in my darkest hour, who had come for me when the Grim Reaper had already extended his cold, bare hand.

The very next moment the pressure vanished and my tormentor was flung through the room, slim, fragile fingers wrapped around his ankle. Blood welled up around her grip and joined the rivers from his nose and ears, which had started gushing as soon as his head had collided with the floor. A resounding thunderclap shook the room, an explosion of light blinded me and when I had blinked away the crimson stars, the scene had changed. Just like I had been pinned down, he sprawled on the ground, his back arched, his neck held in the vice like grip of an elegant hand.

A creature of fire and might towered above him, her face hidden behind a veil of scintillating flames. Two pairs of wings, one larger, one smaller, covered her back and a flood of tails surged around her legs. Without a care in the world, without an ounce of pity, she straightened her back, exerting ever more pressure on the writhing monster at her feet. Bones creaked, muscles tore and an inhumane, animalistic cry thundered through the night, the cry of a beast who was confronted with its own mortality for the first time in a wasted, degenerate life.

Panting I watched in silent astonishment as she lowered her head, the wreathing fires setting his hair ablaze and devouring his skin. “Me,” she whispered, her ethereal voice silencing his tormented scream. “It was me she called and I don’t forsake my people. I don’t punish, I don’t exact revenge, but I protect what’s mine for all eternity.” She had become quieter with every syllable but when the last word wafted through the flames she lit up like the sun, the light coalescing around her tails. From one moment to the next a new one appeared, slithering through the air like an enraged snake. “Would you look at that,” she commented, ignoring his boiling face. “New tools when you need them. This is going to be fun.”

A wave of mana exploded from her, sealing the room more hermetically than the great vaults of the royal family. “Now no one will come to interrupt.” The fires receded and revealed her face, drawn into a stern, uncaring expression that emphasised her divine appearance. I gulped, torn between joy, hope and a new, different kind of fear. That… being was all I had seen. All of it and more and I could only pray that she wouldn’t lose herself to the burning anger in her veins I felt as a palpable pressure, even though it wasn’t directed at me.

With an almost imperceivable movement of her hand she conjured ropes of coiling flames that bound my abusive wannabe husband in searing heat. I had never thought of myself as a vindictive or overly cruel person. Even after my family had been murdered I had never really imagined the excruciating death of those responsible, their suffering prolonged far beyond elven endurance, but when my saviour, my angel, pinned him against the wall, her flames an agonising caress, when his flesh started to char and his eyes turned into empty holes filled with the fires of retribution, I longed for his suffering to continue. I longed… for the chance to inflict on him some of the pain he had subjected me to. But it never came.

Despite the incomprehensible power that bore down on him, his death came quietly, almost like a whimper. One second he was still struggling, his burning legs thrashing, his face contorted and the next he slumped down, broken and discarded like a doll. Silence returned to the room, even the smell of blood and pain was gone, burned away in a hellfire of vengeance. Only ash remained, swirling around six tails as they slowly ceased their endless dance. Haltingly, as if opposed by another will, she straightened and turned around, the flames in her eyes gone, except for a smouldering fire at the very bottom, ready to roar back to life at any moment. And then… a pinched smile formed on her face as the charred body finally came to rest with a dull thud.

“You must be Zara,” she said, the oppressing force in her voice gone, turned into a soft, velvety cadence. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you but I’d never have imagined that I’d be the first to meet you. Not after you summoned my fiancée. I’m Ahri, another… how did that book put it, great spirit. I’m sure there’s an explanation why I’m suddenly finding myself on the Emerald Island with your life in my hands. I’d love to hear it and we’ve got the time to spare.”

She sauntered over to my table and dropped elegantly into one of the chairs. She closed her eyes and tilted her head as if she was listening to someone I couldn’t see before she said: “If you could stop staring at me and start talking we might be able to get to the bottom of this mess. That… boy was the source of your troubles, wasn’t he?” I tried, I really did, but no words came out. I gasped like a fish on dry land, unable to tear my eyes away from her. It wasn’t just her beauty but the unearthly swaths of power that still surrounded her like a nimbus of crimson light. They made any reply I could think of wither in my throat.

“You’re cute,” she continued, “but we really don’t have the time to be dallying. In a short while someone will be knocking on that door and by then we should better have an explanation. So… why are you bound to me, what happened since Cassy left you and why was a powerful mage in your room, screaming bloody murder? I’d really like to give you the time to grasp what just happened, but I’m afraid others won’t be as considerate. Considering I’m about half a world from where I was a few moments ago I think you could at least provide an explanation. Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you. Cassandra, maybe, she really should have hurried up.” She paused, again seemingly enraptured by words I couldn’t hear and her smile became more pronounced before she nodded, once.

With an Herculean effort I finally managed a strangled reply. “Thank you.” That wasn’t what I had wanted to say but the words just came. “Thank you so…” she raised her hand to cut me off.

“You’re welcome. Could we skip that part? I don’t even know what you did but you’re mine, in ways I can’t even understand. There really is no need. I’d be much more helpful if you could tell me why and how. But before that…” she closed her eyes and a warming spark ignited in her still raised hand. Before I could react it lazily travelled through the air and melted into my skin, just above my heart. My aches and bruises vanished, even the tip of my ear grew back, and I took a deep, liberating breath. Grinning like a child she added: “how I’ve missed my magic. Now, my questions. You can answer them, can’t you?” I nodded and rallied my courage. Over the next few minutes I told her everything I knew, from how I had found out that my family had been slain so that the royals could take control of our assets, to my desperate summoning, and finally how my life had become a grotesque nightmare ever since. I could hardly suppress my tears when I told her about the familiar’s bond and my brief encounter with our world’s spirit. I even had to close my eyes when I recalled what had happened upon my return, the last minutes still alive and well in my memory, even though the abomination of an elf was but a dark smear on the ground.

I jerked when I felt warm, fluffy tails circled around my waist. At one point she had joined me on the bed and wrapped me up in a gentle embrace I hadn’t felt in ages. After that, there was no way in all hells that’d I’d be able to stop my tears from falling freely. I cried in her arms like a child but still continued my story. It was liberating, almost like I managed to spit out all the anger, all the fear I had carried with me. She didn’t say a word but simply held me until the tears ran dry and my choked voice finally broke. On impulse I snuggled up against her and leaned my head against her shoulder. She didn’t seem to mind and even caressed my head. Her skin was hot to the touch.

“Oh boy,” I felt her voice rumbling through me, “out of the frying pan and into the fire. This has been one damned long night already and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to be over any time soon.” Close as we were I felt a tendril of her magic turn inwards and this time I knew she was talking to someone else. The other… angel I had summoned, presumably.

Barely a second later she sighed. “Zara, I don’t think I can take you away from here. Not without fighting my way through half your capital. We are in your capital, aren’t we?” I nodded.

“In the middle of it. We’re in the academy. It’s been built on a gargantuan flying stone and tethered down closed to the palace.”

“Hmm… that might even make things simpler, but I don’t think I can get you out of here without a lot of bloodshed. Then again, as soon as someone realises I’ve just turned their prince into a barbecue, bloodshed will become unavoidable either way. Best to get it started on our own terms, then. We could…” I didn’t listen, my overstimulated mind was wandering, conjuring up images and ideas with every word she uttered and one of them didn’t even seem that bad to me.

“No one knows, do they,” I interrupted her quietly. Surprise was clearly written in the crease of her eyebrows but she indulged me and replied:

“They shouldn’t. All anyone outside should have been able to see was a tremendous spike of mana and maybe a crimson sheen in the windows. Why?” I collected my thoughts before I asked:

“Who’s to say he died? Everyone expected him to walk out of here and leave behind my corpse. Who’s to say he didn’t succeed?” I felt her tense slightly, confusion and incredulity slowly turning into understanding.

“It might work,” she mumbled, still wrestling with the idea. “An illusion wouldn’t cut it, but you’re from the same race… maybe I could change your appearance. We’ll have to try, won’t we?”