Ablood mage. By Osurehm, Amma was followinga blood mageright out of the Ebon Sanctum Mallor and back toward the monstrous city of Aszath Koth. She thought they were only legends, as removed from the world as direct descendants of dominions were, and that no one could truly be born of a demon and exist on earth rather than on the infernal plane.
Existence was broken into six planes, everyone knew, even Amma who paid little attention in theology. Planes were actually not arranged in any kind of order, they all existed at the same time in all of space, on top of, inside, and around one another, but if theywerestacked up, as so often they were depicted in art, Empyrea would be at the top. The home of the one hundred and seventeen gods of light and love, Empyrea had no means of ingress or egress. It had not always been that way, but after The Expulsion, the gods had seen fit to abstain from earthly interaction. Below Empyrea would lay the celestial plane, home of the dominions and servants of the gods from which exit could be achieved by mortal summoning. Dominions were largely considered good, and when they walked the earth their deeds were also typically kind, but pissing one off was not recommended.
There would then be some disagreement on whether earth or the Everdarque came next, an argument of absolutely zero consequence as, again, the planes were not layered in any way. However, the plane of mortal beings, on which Amma had resided her whole existence, was more frequently considered just below the celestial plane, likely because those who made up the charts felt a sort of affinity to being placed as high and close to godliness as possible themselves. The center of the imaginary layers was usually followed by the fae realm of the Everdarque, home to immortal beings whose magic only flourished within their plane, so if one could avoid ever going there, one was safe from the dangers spoken of fae. Though there were some who would claim the Everdarque didn’t exist at all and was only a fairytale—that is, a made-up tale told by the very creatures who supposedly did not exist.
But there was no argument that below all of these was the infernal plane, home of the demons and their ilk. Like the dominions of the celestial plane, demons could only leave when they were summoned, which was a mad and difficult thing to do, but obviously, if someone like Damien existed, it could be done. Finally, below every other plane, lay the Abyss at the deepest level of level-less existence. The Abyss was known only as a hollow pit of nothing forever, into which the twenty-five dark gods had been cast during The Expulsion where they remained imprisoned and could never escape.
Though almost no one ever crossed planes, their existence was confirmed by the reality of magic. All arcana was a gift, Amma knew, even the darkest kinds, from planes beyond vision and reach, but none of it manifested directly from earth. Of course, she had seen and experienced magic, and she knew all too well that evil certainly existed, but this man, this Damien Mal-whatever-thorn, claimed to be one of the most feared and powerful beings in and out of the realm. And he was, what, a glum and self-absorbed twenty-something, living up in the Infernal Mountains and prowling the dirty streets of Aszath Koth to heal wounded kittens?
She had so many questions, and all of them should have struck fear right into her soul, but her heart didn’t pound like she knew it should, and she wasn’t sweating half as much as she expected, all of which likely had something to do with that word he’d used on her in a language she didn’t know and the two significantly more infuriating ones in Key:calm down. Never had anyone actually calmed down when ordered to, she was sure of it, and yet there she was, feeling calm.
Amma glanced skyward when they passed out of the Sanctum. There were two moons over Eiren, one called Lo that remained static, shining brightly every night, and a second called Ero that waxed and waned while arcing through the sky every twenty-eight days. They were named after a pair of goddesses who were said to be linked in deep friendship but broken by The Expulsion. Lo currently resided in Empyrea, and was a stalwart beacon of consistent goodness, but Ero had fallen, one of the Abyss-cast, and in retribution, her namesake moon would blot out Lo’s whenever it got the chance. There was, of course, an astronomical element to that, and Amma’s schooling may well have covered it, but she hadn’t paid attention—a thing she currently regretted as she could remember only one thing: the moons had a distinct influence on magic in Eiren. She knew how the seasons affected the natural world and how fickle magical things could be, and she was especially aware how the twain of the two took very special care, but never had she been under a spell, and perhaps if she’d paid more attention, she could figure out how to…not be.
Her shoulders sagged. No, that wasn’t likely—Amma might have been familiar with the tiniest sliver of magic, but she couldn’t cast it, and even if she could, she’d be no match for a blood mage.
Amma’s eyes fell onto the back of him in the moonlight, a slightly darker shadow against the dusk of the way ahead. Perhaps she could just bolt—he wasn’t even paying attention—but she only knew one way back into town, the way they were going, and the empty outskirts of Aszath Koth were even more frightening in the dark. The kalsephrus trees looked like gnarled, clawed hands, reaching out to grab her, and the ruins ahead loomed against the sky like giants that might enjoy munching on humans.
“So, this is where you live?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet as she remained as close to him as she dared.
“What?” The man called Damien glanced over his shoulder. “No. Well, not righthere.”
“But in Aszath Koth? There aren’t a lot of other humans there.”
“I told you, I’m not human.”
“But you look like one.” Her eyes darted from the long shadow of one ruin to another, searching for anything hidden within. “And all the lizard people and the goblins don’t really seem to like humans much. It must be lonely.”
He scoffed, picking up his pace.
“Do you have a family, or—” Amma gasped at a sound out in the orchard behind them.
Damien did not react. “You’re beginning to feel fear again?”
Before she could respond, a shifting in the nearby brush made her wince and fall still with terror. “What was that?”
“Interesting.” He looked her over, turning to walk backward and watch her as he went. “Well, let’s try something else then, hmm?Sanguinisui, follow me, and don’t speak.”
Amma’s feet moved on their own, propelling her forward whether she wanted to or not. The skin of her neck itched and words in her throat were immediately strangled back, a rush of anxiety flooding her at even the thought of speaking, yet the intense desire to do so fighting back. The sensation was nothing short of terrible.
He waited a moment, and when she said nothing, turned away and kept going. Amma was compelled to follow right after. Through the ruins, there were plenty of other sourceless noises and figures flickering in the twilight at the corners of her eyes, but her reactions remained silent and her feet never stopped as they trekked back to the city.
When they reached the edges of Aszath Koth, Amma wished she had her cowl and hood still to pull up, but they’d been left abandoned in the Sanctum. Damien, however, walked around with his own hood back, shoulders set and taking long strides she had to jog to keep up with as if they were not entering a city full of monsters.
He was swathed in a long, black cloak though, and the rest of his clothing was black as well, the leather armor strapped over his torso, the bracers around his forearms, his boots, even his tunic and pants, so he at least looked the part of menacing human. She was an abundance of color in comparison with her own tawny breeches and over-sized, once-white-now-stained tunic, belted at the waist with a green sash, and her light hair pulled into a knot at the back of her head. Cloakless now, it was more difficult to blend in, and even in the darkness of late evening, the creatures still lurking about took notice.
Whether the arcane urge not to speak was beginning to wane or not, the practical influence of the city did well to keep her mouth shut. When the streets had widened with heavier foot traffic, Amma hurried to stay behind Damien more out of fear of everything else rather than compulsion. Eyes on his back, she continued forward until a scaled tendril swept down through the air and cut her off.
Amma opened her mouth, but the yelp that was instinctive to what appeared to be a giant snake falling before her was strangled in her throat. Her feet attempted to continue forward, taking her closer to it as her eyes cast up the length of the thick appendage, serpentine and scaled in dismal yellow and a color that would have been turquoise if it hadn’t been mud-caked.
At the side of the road, the tendril was connected to a vaguely human torso that was leaning up against a building’s post. Clad in a tattered vest, the pallid skin beneath was marked with brighter patches of scales, including a spattering across the noseless but otherwise human face. The half-human creature lurched off the post and toward her with a smile she was sure wasn’t nearly as friendly as it purported to be.
Amma averted her gaze, feet still moving, and focused on the way forward, but the tail was just in front of her, and then it was behind her too, and in a moment its full length was wrapped around her waist. She grabbed onto the scaled hide, as much for balance as for an attempt to escape, feet scuffing as she again opened her mouth to scream. Nothing came out as she was dragged away from the road.
Then there was a sizzle in the air and a snap. A long gash tore through the serpent tail just below Amma’s hands, spattering hot, thick blood. She stumbled back as the squeeze around her middle relented, even her sounds of disgust silenced as she held out arms sprayed with blood. Her aggressor, however, was not silent, letting out a howl, eyes flashing angrily at her as if she had somehow injured him.
A hand wrapped around Amma’s arm, jerking her backward over the now-lax tail. “What are you doing?” Damien’s voice spat.
She pointed to herself and then to the snake man who hissed back in response, lunging forward.
