“Are you coming with me or not?” Aziel asked, sounding harsher than he intended.
Entirely unbothered, Trio stepped into the inner circle of the sigil and glared at his friend. “Teigh is never going to let you hear the end of it.” He looked down at the runes and sighed.
“That’s not important at the moment.” Aziel grumbled. He closed his eyes, placing a hand on Trio’s shoulder. The world around them blurred and shifted, the veil between their plane of existence and the next growing incredibly thin. Trio braced himself for the wave of nausea that usually followed, his hands tightening to fists at the sudden dropping sensation he felt in his stomach.
Everything around them turned bright, the chilly spring air turning warm and comfortable. Trio blinked in the light, his eyes scanning the horizon. The realm of wandering souls was one that always had a tendency to make him feel uneasy, especially when he happened upon people he once knew very well.
Like Owen.
Aside from Aziel and themselves, Owen had been the only other Mystic child they knew in the kingdom. They were friends—a close-knit group of savages that Dorid absolutely detested. For a small amount of time, before Aziel was cast into the pit and then sent away, they reveled in Dorid’s discomfort.
But now, Owen was nowhere to be found. He was not watching as souls passed through the silver waters of the afterlife, there wasn’t even smoke coming from the small cabin along the river of souls. Which usually meant he was either checking on his family or with Nymiria. He took one final glance at the lonely cabin and turned on his heel, following Aziel towards the sharp and jagged mountains in the distance.
The sunlight from the realm of wandering souls vanished, as if walking through a door to another room. Black clouds loomed over the sharp peaks, the slopes steep and unforgiving. At the base of the mountain was a large opening, a cavern with stalagmites and a fine drapery of stalactites growing along the inside that gave the impression of a gaping maw belonging to a ferocious beast. Aziel wove through the spaces between them, his form stiff and straight.
Trio had never been further in the pits—Aziel would never take him, refused to subject him to the torture that could be seen there. But if it was anything remotely similar to how Aziel delivered justice on the corporeal plane, Trio could understand. He was methodical and precise, cruel and unforgiving. His practices would be considered inhumane by a jury, but there was no jury that would ever choose to cross the Forest Demon.
They turned away from the darkness that would lead to the pits, moving towards something that looked like a small corridor with a set of stairs.
Odd,but Trio liked to pretend that there was no use in questioning Aziel’s affinity for oddities, such as his collection of stones and gems—or, for instance, a perfectly masoned setof stairs in the Otherworld. So, he followed close behind, brow furrowing at the distant sound of barks and howls that appeared to be getting closer.
Yes, those were dogs he was hearing.
“Aziel?” Trio called. The god grunted in response. In Aziel’s language, at that specific octave, meant to continue. “I don’t think this is the sort of situation that calls for puppies.”
Aziel said nothing. He merely took that final step towards a door with a dragon’s eye at the center. The stone within was the size of Trio’s head and warring with shimmering colors of red, purple, and blue. He’d seen that eye before. It’d been years, but he specifically remembered his mother wearing a medallion around her neck with that eye on it.
One swipe of Aziel’s palm across the metal eye and the door clicked and whirred from within, lasting only seconds before it opened. The room was large, its architecture mimicking that of the cathedrals scattered throughout Yaar. Dark and ominous, with curved walls that looked to be windows that’d been bricked closed behind them. There was very little light, only a faint orange glow casting long shadows onto the black stone flooring from the three stone pillars that were strategically placed in various parts of the room.
Trio heard the barking and growls grow closer, still. Until three large figures appeared from the opening at the far right end of the room.
Hounds.
He expected as much, but he never would have guessed that they would look quite like this. Their skin was red, stretched over their bodies in ways that seemed unnatural and uncomfortable, their bones seemingly one swift movement away from breaking the surface. Their snouts were mostly bone, giving way to skeletal jaws and sharp teeth that made Trio believe they could be evil and dangerous.
He was proven to be incredibly wrong.
These hounds approached Aziel with their sharp tails cutting through the air behind them, letting out whimpers and whines as they nuzzled Aziel’s legs and hands. The god patted their bellies when they rolled onto their backs, tongue and tails wagging. There was nothing for Trio to do other than stand there and watch in both awe and horror. Perhaps slight confusion, as well.
“This is Cumhaill,” Aziel ruffled the ears of one of the hounds, the one with no eyes. He reached for the second, this one looked as if it’d had a large chunk taken out its ribs. “Dumhall. And this one…” He was now tugging at a piece of cloth in the largest hound’s mouth. “Is Brian.”
“Brian?” Trio snorted.
Aziel turned to him and nodded. “It’s a nickname.”
“What’s hisrealname?”
“Brianghaemadra.” A voice sounded from behind them, deep and riddled with fatigue. Aziel and Trio turned to where the large iron gate on the left wall was now closing. A man with hair black as night stood before them, his dark eyes flickering a warm golden hue. His hands and arms were covered in blood. He was shirtless, much to Trio’s pleasure, revealing a lean frame and rippling muscles that were covered in runes. They weren’t carved into him or tattooed onto his skin. They were painted on. Presumably by the same blood that drenched his hands. “He doesn’t respond well to that, though.”
Trio remembered him. Vaguely. A distant memory of a drunken night—Aziel’s eyes filling with a sense of alertness right before he dragged him to this horrifying place and confronted a man trying to bring his lover’s dead brother back to life. Aziel, the hopeless romantic he was, had allowed it.
Even so, all of the gentleness he had for the animals was gone when Aziel raised to his full height. His features were hard ashe walked towards the man and extended his hand. “Cyrus.” He gave a stiff nod, the two men exchanging a formal handshake. “It’s been a while.”
“Not long enough, if I do say so myself.” The man chuckled. “Everything alright?”
“Not exactly. How is your son?”
Cyrus dipped his head, a soft gleam of pride twinkling in his eyes. “He’s well.”
