Runeak swept her palm over the bleeding laceration at her thigh, then flung her arm in an arc, splattering crimson liquid at the enemy troops.
Just as he attempted to swallow past a strained throat, Saer saw it.
Pieces of skin and armor burst with divine, white light.Present for a blink, then gone.The emanation depicted a scrawling of unusual but deliberate patterns.Words glowed upon contact with Runeak’s blood, then faded to nothing.Saer held knowledge of many languages, but the flashes proved too quick and far away for him to determine if he could read them or not—disappearing like a stain of breath upon a mirror, the enemy left untouched.
The torches closest to Runeak flickered, faded, then snuffed out.She shouted guttural commands to her soldiers, and more poured in from multiple sides.Saer thought she pulled the torch blazes into herself, then realized most were extinguished before she had the chance.Between the dancing light of remaining flames and intermittent flickering of mysterious silvery words, it took him many seconds to recognize another force dispensing the fire, and he only sussed it out when he pivoted to his heat sense.
The battlefield exuded chaos.Bodies scrambled and sparred in the low light.Runeak burnt brightest with inner fire, the remaining torch blazes a close second.Startling and surprising to Saer, every so often a sudden explosion of cold appeared out of nowhere, many times swallowing one or more torches next to the demoness, and sometimes striking her directly.The iciness flashed with the same bright, worded patterns, though tinted azure from the icicles they left behind.
‘They have means of attacking and defending which are not weapons or armor.’
“The Hells.”Emotional discomfort forgotten, Saer squinted his eyes, leaned forward in his mare’s saddle, and drank in the scene before him.Someone or something attacked with…ice?Cold?
The humans, despite this mystifying new skill, never stood a chance against Wrath and her entourage.The tents burnt with screams of agony contrasted by blood-thirsty cheers.As the war waged on, soul energy coalesced, some dispersing away.Others—those dedicated to Runeak—remained, observing, then faded from Saer’s sight.
Just as Ruki had been dedicated and only visible to him all those years prior, so the same held true for Runeak’s promised souls.
Saer stayed until the sky glowed with pre-dawn light and the victor of the scrimmage declared herself.
Runeak’s soldiers gathered the remainder of the opposition in front of her panting, bloodied, and magnificent form.They would be given the chance to join her or be slaughtered.She would take the dedicated souls back to Lucifer, then return.Thus, the cycle would continue.
Witnessing a harvest had never unsettled Pride, and yet the thought of staying this time made him jerk his gaze away.
Their time had come to an end.
Saer turned his horse around and dug his heels into her flanks.
27
Saerspentthenextyear scouring coastlines of the continents, staying long enough to determine whether the Twins had been through nearby human settlements before moving on.He traveled by boat, sometimes by mount.
On sailing ships, Saer learned the very basics of operating rigs.He pulled and tied ropes, adjusted lines, heaved anchors, set rudders, all while falling into a companionable alliance with the crew mates and captains of each.It was just as the fallen angel told Its First the last time It spoke to him—Saer could be very good at following orders.
He marveled when his human hands grew the toughest calluses he’d ever experienced, his already-chiseled forearms toned further, and his body learned to move fluidly with the rise and fall of a boat.Losing himself in the work rather than dwelling on his maker’s words, or the instant It gleaned him through the doomed human’s eyes in Runeak’s tent.
Tall and craggy shorelines swelled from water deep and dark, broken up so often by rough, white-capped waves.He toured lengthy stretches of warm, pearlescent coasts with sand so fine, the silk-like texture implored him to dig his toes deeper.In these hotter climates, Saer soaked in the hue of the ocean, often a teal to sapphire ombre shift.Neyu’s eyes existed in their cerulean depths.Saer had yet to meet a human or other creature with the shade’s equal, but in the sea’s simmering abyss, shadows of his beloved lived.
Beaches of every color found themselves under Saer’s feet: bleached white, tan, muddy brown, maroon, desolate gray, even crystal ebony.
He interrogated the locals wherever their ships happened to dock, inquiring about the Twins, but also Errshek.Arek and Alus tended to draw more attention, memorable to those who met them.In a few instances, he noted a spark of recognition in his description of the Third and FourthDaemoenica, though always, they’d moved on.Never did he witness this reaction when it came to the very forgettable Envy.
The crew spotted land after a month of sailing west from Saer’s prior port.A beautiful stretch of peninsula with a grand, pale rock arch served as a landmark to the crew who had been to this part of the world before.In a smaller ship, they could have sailed under and through the structure.Lazy sea lions perched on rocky structures off the coastline, basking in the heat of midday and barking at one another.
Smaller fishing boats zigged and zagged around their vessel.Once as close to the dock as they could manage, the captain shouted orders to drop anchor and ready the skiffs.From afar, the shoreline reflected a pristine ivory with humble adobes dotting the land further up from the sea.Palm trees swung as cool, salty wind flowed up and off the ocean.
Saer leaned forward off the bow of the ship and extended his heat sense into the village.The task humored his routine, though he didn’t expect fruit to be borne through the effort.
The sea lions nearest the boat flared under his scrutiny.Further on, he disregarded the blips of sea birds, large and small, as they circled fishing boats for an easy meal.Human heat signatures glowed with the most familiarity, and as Saer scanned every skiff, beach gathering, and adobe, he prepared himself for the usual disappointment.
Nothing.
Of course there wasn’t—
Wait.
His hands tightened on the ship railing, and he frowned, brow lowered.
There.
