Shadow of the Abyss

"Morr? You good?" Altair asked, noticing the way she stood there for a blank second or two. He sauntered over to her and frowned at the way her face seemed to pale and then at the letter that magically appeared in her hand the instant her eyes came back into focus.

"What happened?"

"I…" She stopped biting her lip. Unsure what to say, she stared deep into his crimson eyes, which seemed to glow beneath the darkness of this realm. Perhaps it was the lighting, but they seemed as cold as a steel edge.

After a moment, Altair said, "Is it for me?" he looked at the letter, snatching it away before Morrigan could stop him. She flushed but held her tongue, figuring it was better he found out now than later. He tore it open and fell into a deeper silence. Altair might have read the letter seven times before it ignited into black flames.

"So this is the way you want to play it," Altair lightly mentioned. He turned without another word and sauntered away without another sound. He walked until he was alone before the tremors began to jolt across his shoulders, and the rage that came from his blood lit the world aflame. A roar that could be perceived as a dragon's roar opened the earth beneath his feet.

He could see it all. The look of scorn Azura held as she pushed the letter to Morrigan.

'A tool that doesn't know its place isn't useful. Don't you think?' echoed Azura's cold words across his mind.

He laughed, cupping his face with his callus palm, trying to smolder the sin of wrath held by his father's blood, resonating with his lineage.

[Shadowfell Lineage Detected]

Altair did not seem to notice the message as he stared blankly into space. He was cold. Growing colder by the second until any sort of warmth seemed to escape his being.

"Luvar Al'Gore," He said, shattering space with Dimensional Rift, reemerging within the Palace of Stygian. He smiled when he felt his Omniscience explain that not even Azura could pierce the veil Zero had set up to block the eyes of gods.

He said nothing, walking into the office to make a single call.

"Altair! My man, what can I do for you?" came Zelos' smooth voice on the other end. "How've you been?"

"I need information," Altair tried to say with a calm voice, but his efforts were for not.

Zelos saw right through him. "Give me a name."

"Is this line secure?"

"In the Archeons Name, I assure you it's secured," Zelos comforted. "Tell me the name."

"Luvar Al'Gore"

"Al'Gore?" Zelos was smiling. "I don't know Luvar, but I know Al'Gore. His family belongs to the Archoeon of the First Tower, Advent. They act as advisors. For each generation, however long the first tower has been around, the Al'Gores have been around. House Dawn has quite a few business contracts with them."

"Anything of substance?" Altair asked.

"Nothing that would make me turn down the contract. Do you want him dead?"

"No." Altair shook his head. "I want him brought to me, caged like a rat."

Zelos laughed. "It'll not be cheap."

"I'm not a poor man."

"No. Unfortunately for me. Your first one is free."

Altair might have felt grateful were the situation not so grave. "How long will it take?"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"As I said, our consortium has quite a few businesses with them. Give me a week. Two at the most."

Altair was about to hang up when he said," If you are caught… tell the Archeon that the Mark of Cain binds them."

Zelos's expression contorted on his end as he stood up. He'd wanted to inquire more but failed as Altair ended the call.

"Well, shit…" He muttered, garnering attention from one of the Peltast standing guard. A mistake for his head fell the moment they could be lowered. He snapped a finger, calling for one of his maids, whose inhumane eyes seemed to trace the pool of blood on the floor, slowly landing on the Young Master before her.

She bowed. "Young Master. Shall I clean this mess?"

"No. What is my father doing right now?" Zelos calmly asked.

"Dining with your mother, Young Master. It's the eve of their anniversary. And he's asked that he not be bothered."

Zelos smile blossomed. "Inform my Father, there has been news that might earn him land on Advent." He lifted his eyes to House Dawns very much owe Homunculus, ensuring their eternal loyalty. "Keep this from any Peltast whose loyalty can be tested."

She bowed, disbursing into a mist.

"What a gift." Zelos mused. And he thought, aware that the luxury of privacy doesn't quite exist to anything outside his body. 'If we can get rid of the Al'Gores, my father will have no choice but to award me…" he chuckled, clasping his hands behind his back as his maid returned.

"The Archeon will see you now."

***

"Your back," Syris asked, sauntering into his office, noticing the way not even the aspect of light permeated the room. She frowned, finding Altair with his head bowed.

"Art…" she said softly, approaching him. She didn't say anything afterward, pulling up a chair to rest beside him. When he didn't say anything after an hour, she had powerful whisky delivered to her.

Altair did not refuse a drink, nearly swallowing the glass whole to Syris's amusement. She patted his back and poured him another drink before he finally said, "Azura is trying to put me in check." His face reddened a bit, swallowing his eighth glass. "she wants you to marry some bastard."

"Pfft," a small laugh escaped her. The very thought of marrying anyone else besides Altair made her feel as if she was covered in bile. It was a disgusting thought that brought on her scorn. "Art… you know I'll not marry anyone but you, right?"

"It might not be up to you," Altair said, lowering his head slowly. He explained what he had Zelos do. By then, the decanter of whisky was practically empty, leaving only a half-drunken man.

"What are you going to do? To this Luvar Al'Gore." Syris asked.

"This entire palace was built around a furnace," Altair whispered, growing silent, leaving Syris's thoughts to wonder. She gulped, almost finding a smile, as her fingers ran through her lover's hair. She didn't pour him a drink or anything else but helped him to his feet.

"Let's take a bath. The hot springs, a little bit of wine, and a few movies ought to help you unwind."

"I don't want to bathe."

Syris tried to not laugh, but Altair sounded so much like a boy, refusing to shower that she had laughed, jerking him along into the hot springs.

"You smell a bit love. Relax. The third floor isn't going anywhere. A shower, a movie, and a snack, and you can return to your madness."

Reluctantly falling into the springs after Syris had stripped him down, Altair sighed, blowing bubbles in the water. He was still angry but couldn't find it in him to snap at Syris, of all people. He couldn't understand why she wasn't more furious.

He surely was.

"Why aren't you angry," he finally asked as his thoughts began to unravel.

"Did you know there is a song called Unravel? I found it in the Earth archives. It has a nice ring. Want to listen."

"Syris…"

"It really does sound nice."

"Syris," Altair said, unable to hold back his frustrations, and glared at her.

"Fine." Syris relented. "I'm not worried about it because you're taking care of it. And because I'm your Saintess, now."

"Your fate in me will get you killed," Altair muttered, returning to childishly blowing bubbles in the hot springs.

"I beg to differ. If my man cannot protect me, then perhaps you don't deserve to be my man."

Altair glared even harder. He wanted to snap back but found that there wasn't anything he could retort. She was right.

With a mournful sigh. "You really are a handful."

"Ah, the price of getting to fuck me," Syris teased, swaying into her lover's arms. "It's alright, Art. I'm sure you'll figure it out. And if it helps, I'll be by your side the entire time."

"What other side is there to be on?"

She laughed, kissing his cheek, whispering something in his ear that brought a smile to his lips.

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****

"Damn that Mephisto!" Lord Arsene Snow snapped, glaring at the foreign weaponry aimed at him.

Beside him, Zariel Snow and his wife Aurelia Morningstar both carried strange expressions, lifting their arms at the squad of Fell Gods moving to surround them. They hadn't recognized the race but felt an incredible amount of pure energy radiating from their being.

Lilith, who stood with her arms wrapped around Arsene, spoke first, "Does anyone here have a pregnancy test?"

"That's what you want to ask?" Aurelia blurted.

"Why not? You should get one yourself. The Silver Devil there has been putting it down."

Aurelia blushed. "I'm not pregnant, silly!"

"Enough!" said a cold voice as an aged man sauntered forward. Tall, with tendrils of azure light trailing up his arms, stopping at his cheek, he was handsome—or at least he once was, given his current appearance filled with wrinkles.

"Who are you? And how did you escape Pandora's Box?" the man damned.

The four exchanged glances before Zariel curiously asked, "You recognize the box?"

"Of course, we recognize it. We were sealed in it for nearly an Eternity!"

Arsene's expression shifted as he said, " You're… you're the Ilvarian's. The ancient race that predated the High Humans. The Almighty One's a little mistake."

"The Almighty doesn't make mistakes. Do not believe what you hear from that damnd Serpent Mephisto!"