~- When Did I Get so Cold? -~
(Demon Hunters ch. ???)
Code Superbia; we have a Code Superbia! Lucifer’s breached the Gate! Lucas… Lucas has Fallen…
Disbelief had colored Sammy’s voice as the message ripped through the minds of the twelve remaining
cambion and
nephilim; disbelief and horror that they’d all shared. Lucas was the strongest of all of them. That he’d given in, unleashing Lucifer on the world…
The End of Days was fully on them.
The other
cambion had reacted on instinct, bolting as soon as they’d heard the news, but running had been pointless; how the hell did you flee from a demon that could burrow into your mind, sinking their claws in so it was damn near impossible to shake the sonuvabitch’s hold so you could kick its ass to the curb?
You don’t, my son; I thought you were smart enough to realize that?
Eric huddled further into the back corner of his own mind, unable to do much more than that since Mammon, the Archdemon of Greed and his sire, had taken control. It had been six days, six weeks, and six hours since Lucas had Fallen, dragging the other six
cambion down with him. Eric laughed slightly when the time since possession caught up with him, but the sound was dry, weak, and brittle; the short laugh died almost as soon as it had started. Sighing, the blonde buried his face in his arms, his fingers gripping tightly at his skin.
Why? Dammit,
why?! They’d been so close. Lucas had just needed to hold out until his birthday, and they would’ve all been in the clear; the Gates would have closed, and all seven of them would have been safe from their demon sires. Freedom had been so close that Eric could still taste it, a taste that was almost as sweet as a kiss from Sky, in his opinion the most beautiful of the girls on the
nephilim’s side.
Eric didn’t understand all of it, but something had happened the
day before Lucas’ birthday, something that had caused him to lose all hope and give into Lucifer at last. It wasn’t too much of a surprise, in some ways. How long had the rest of the
cambion sensed that Lucas had been cracking under the pressure and stress of trying to keep them all safe? How many times had they been sure he’d reached his breaking point, only for him to shrug off their concerns and carry on like nothing was bothering him, like he wasn’t exhausted beyond human endurance? How many times had they
begged him to release some of his control and let them share the burden of keeping each other safe? Why did Lucas trust the rest of them with his own life, but he didn’t trust himself enough to let them guard each other’s lives as well? Like any of these questions mattered, though.
None of them mattered any longer.
Eric pressed his forehead tighter against his crossed arms, the bones of his wrists pressing into his forehead as he exhaled, trying to find some modicum of distractions from his own despair and the greed ripping through his body as Mammon ran wild. Eric had always watched his money carefully, but the demon of greed was spending it like water, throwing it into whatever he could get his hands on and hoard to his black heart’s content. The teen looked deep, searching for even the smallest flicker of the flame and prickly temper he showed the world.
All he found was cold, weary ice. Ice and snow and guilt and self-loathing and disgust and the ever present, gnawing ache of hunger that even Mammon’s greed couldn’t break through. Despite over six weeks of possession, the teen was still skin and bones, the psychological trauma behind his aversion to food so strong that even the Archdemon of Greed couldn’t force his anorexic son’s body to eat more than a few bites a day. It was a small victory over the demon, but it wasn’t one that Eric could savor, not when the reason behind it was yet another sin against his soul. He railed against Lucas’ lack of trust, but in the end, Eric couldn’t really talk. Not when both of them carried burdens much too heavy for a single person to bear alone, even when they had friends that were willing to share the load.
“Eric?”
A nick cracked a corner of the ice, and Eric’s heart stuttered in his chest as Mammon turned them around. Sky was standing just a few feet away, her hair in a soft golden braid down her back. She was wearing a sleeveless white dress that fluttered just above her knees, a favored pair of dark leggings worn beneath the dress. The neckline was higher, but the back scooped low, revealing much of her upper back to her waist, as well as the two, thin slashes across her shoulder blades that marked where her wings unfurled at her will. The dress was actually rather practical in that sense, by not getting in the way of her wings, but Eric had always loved seeing Sky wear it because it was sweet, but sexy at the same time.
Her surprised stillness lasted just long enough for him to register her dress, then she was a blur of action, her white wings unfolding from her back as a long handled glaive appeared in her grip. She swung, bringing the glaive swinging as his head, but Mammon moved just as quick, blocking the
nephilim girl’s strike with one of the large, polished mirrors strapped to his wrists.
No, Eric thought, the ice taking another stab at his heart as she danced away, readying her blade for another attack.
Get away from here, Little Angel; I’m not worth this!
“He doesn’t want you here,
nephilim. Do you know that? You’re risking your life for someone that doesn’t even want you
near him,” Mammon laughed, twisting Eric’s thoughts to suite his own purposes. The voice spoke, but it was clearly the demon’s; it was too low, too dark and velvety smooth to be Eric’s voice.
“You lie,” Sky said softly, swinging once more for his head. Mammon ducked, easily avoiding the blow, even as the girl continued, “He many not want me here, I can believe that; but not for the reasons you insinuate.”
They stung, the words of that golden haired angel. But what bit even deeper was that Eric felt no relief at knowing of her belief in him. The cold, empty hollow place in his gut had been festering for years, slowly freezing his fire until the flames were little more than a show of heat. As well as she seemed to know him, he just didn’t know…
Shall I find out?
Before Eric could stop him, before he could even articulate his fear to himself, Mammon said, “He’s afraid of you, little girl, did you know that? He’s afraid of what you’d
really think of him if you knew the full truth. Just what has he told you, Daughter of Michael? Has he told you about how his sister was injured? About the ice in his veins? About his
human father?”
Sky threw a shaft of light at Mammon before she whirled away from him, her hands on the glaive ready to attack or defend at the drop of a dime. Mammon threw up his left arm, absorbing the light into the mirror. Raising his right arm, he threw her attack back at her, the reflected light twisted into black shadows that she tossed aside with her glaive. His mental voice small and tired, Eric pleaded uselessly,
Don’t tell her about him, please
…
A dark barrier formed around the blonde
cambion, halting Sky in her tracks as Mammon chuckled. Catching the confusion on her face, the demon talked over Eric’s horror as he laughed, “Oh, that was quite the delicious game Belial and I played that night twenty-one years ago. How the girl
screamed, unable to understand what had come over her brother. His
horror when we finally let him go, and he realized what he’d done to his own sister. He couldn’t stand his guilty conscience for long, you know. I think he jumped through a window soon after Belial and I had finished our fun. It didn’t change the fact that the seed had taken root already, but since you humans are so easy to break when your morals are shattered, does it really matter?”
The ice sunk its claws deep into Eric again, and he buried his face back into his arms. He hadn’t known himself until after the Fall; their mother had been too ashamed to admit the truth to them as they were growing up. He’d sensed her coldness toward them, him more so than toward Delilah, but he’d never understood it. The only picture he’d ever seen of their father, his mother had ripped from his hands, such raw pain on her face as she said it was his uncle that he’d never pressed the matter further, or asked
why he looked identical to that man if he was Eric’s uncle instead of his father.
Knowing the truth now, Eric knew why his mother had always been so icy toward him, an iciness that he’d eventually adopted himself to deal with the demons and the living hell that his existence was. The only good things in his life were Delilah and Sky. Belial had taken his sister away from him, Mammon his freedom, and now, the ugly truth behind his origin was going to drive Sky away, and Eric couldn’t bear to see the disgust in her eyes before she flew away from him for the last time.
“I don’t care.”
Eric’s head snapped up so fast he would have had whiplash if he was still in control of his body. Mammon staggered back a step, his golden eyes wide in shock as he sputtered, “What? How can that mean so little to you? You should despise him, just as his mother did, as the boy loathes himself!"
“It’s not Eric’s fault,” Sky said softly, her voice like a scream in the still night air. Banishing her glaive, the
nephilim started walking forward, folding her wings behind herself like a feathered mantle as her voice rang in the air, holding the demon and the
cambion spellbound. “Did you think I wouldn’t sense it? The wrongness behind what
you had done to him and his family? The strain they grew up with, how his mother was afraid to love him because of how much he looks like his father, the reminder of that night? We aren’t in control of the events that place us on this earth, nor the twists of fate that cast us in the role that we’re born into. What matters is what we do with ourselves and the lives we’re given, what we choose to do with our hand.”
Her words were like a break in the crushing waves for a drowning man. As Mammon recoiled, Eric thought,
But why? I… I don’t know how to love the way you do, Sky. I’m not worth
saving. Why are you risking yourself for me, Angel?
Even though he was certain she couldn’t hear him, when Sky looked at him, Eric was sure she saw
him, not Mammon. A soft sheen was in her eyes as she said, “You’re worth more than you think you are, Eric. It’s time you stopped believing his lies and look at what those closest to you see of you.”
She was on the verge of tears, Eric knew it. Of the seven
nephilim that represented the Virtues, Sky was probably the gentlest of them all after Harmony. The women in her family were descendants of the Archangel Michael for the last three generations, and they knew all sides of charity, or love as most people called it in the modern world. They understood how consuming it could be, the passion, the romance, familial ties and the bonds of friendships. How love could make you crazy, whether it was unrequited, or through guilt or hatred and broken trust. Even so, they worked through it, and Eric had never known anyone as soft spoken, as passionate and tender as Sky. She loved everyone; she always tried her hardest to protect those that she could, and she cried so easily. It was part of what he found so endearing about her.
How old was Eric? Nineteen? Twenty? He’d barely started living his life, and yet he was so broken down, so world-weary and jaded already. His life was lived in icy shades of white and blue, attitude and temper only an act to hide the frost and hunger that lay beneath. The only color that bled into his life came when his sister and Sky were around him. But why? What did Sky see in Eric that was redeemable; what made her believe he was worth saving?
“Devotion,” she said softly. Eric’s eyes were drawn back to Sky’s face, and he saw the barest flicker of green reflect back to him from the blue-violet of her Hunter eyes. Lifting himself up, he drank her words in as she continued, “I see a young man devoted to his sister and his teammates. He messes up from time to time, but he keeps
trying, and that’s what matters. He doesn’t want to see his friends hurting, so he shoulders burdens that are too heavy to bear alone. He takes the blame for his sister’s leg, even though no one could have known what would happen. He bears his pain on his own and keeps carrying on, because he wants to see those he cares about through to a better place than where they are now. Do you want to know another name for devotion, Mammon? You, who have broken and beaten down your own son so much that he was too weary to resist any longer, that you made him unable to see the good in himself?
Caritas; agäpé; charity.”
“Love?” Mammon laughed, a hard glint in his eyes. He pushed forward, disappearing from view, only to reappear right next to Sky. Putting his hand around her throat, he threw her to the ground, his face close to hers as he hissed into her ear, “Do you really think
love has any place in this boy’s soul?
My son, and
my Gate? You’ve lost your mind, child of Michael; and now, you lose your life!”
Mammon raised his hand for the kill strike, but Eric had had enough. Sky’s words had burned a hole through the ice, lighting the dying embers of his fire and turning the spark into a roaring inferno. All at once, he could
see it; he could see the charity, the love and devotion in his being that Sky saw, that kept him close to Delilah and willing to protect her. Even as Mammon’s son, even though he knew his greed would always tempt him, Eric knew, in that moment, that he would never be held prisoner by it again. He would give Mammon no quarter any longer; it was time to serve an eviction notice to a tenant that had spent too f.ucking long where he wasn’t wanted.
“Get out!” the words tore through the night air as Eric screamed at Mammon, his voice both mental and verbal as he fought the Demon of Avarice. Eric reared away from Sky, and she scrambled back from him, though she didn’t go far. He knew she was willing to stay and fight for him, no matter the cost to her; that knowledge was enough to keep him fighting, because he would
never let Mammon hurt her again.
Do you really think you can beat me, boy? Mammon hissed, throwing the full power of his own will at Eric as the demon fought to keep his grip on the
cambion. Stabbing at Eric’s mind again, the demon roared,
The strongest of your number couldn’t resist the siren’s call to the Fall. You are nothing compared to him; nothing
! And you think you can best me?!
If I can’t beat you, why do you sound so damned scared? Eric snapped back. The strain was almost unbearable as he grappled with Mammon, but Eric refused to give up. He felt the slightest slip of the demon’s grip, and Eric wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d broken the bastard’s grip in its entirety.
Do you truly believe her, though? Do you honestly think that she accepts you, even with the truth behind your birth?
Eric faltered, and Mammon shoved back as doubt entered the blonde’s mind. Panic rising up in him, he tried to regain his footing in their mental tussle, but Mammon had the upper hand now. His hands tangling in his hair, Eric screamed, only for Mammon to use his mouth to start laughing a second later.
A soft touch fell on his arm, and Eric’s head snapped to the side to see Sky kneeling next to him. Flashes of gold and green were reflected in her eyes from his own, a reflection of the struggle for dominance that was taking place. Unable to trust his voice, he shook his head a fraction, begging her to get away from him before he lost the battle and Mammon could hurt her.
Tears slid down her face, but Sky remained firm as she shook her head, her words soft as she said, “No. I’m not going anywhere, Eric. I know you can beat him; I have faith in you. Faith in us.” She leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss against his mouth, filling his head with the taste of cherries and summer.
Mammon screamed as Eric came undone. For a moment, the demon’s presence surged forward, but then Sky’s virtue, the charity she’d awakened in Eric, both drove him back, forcing Mammon back into Hell. Eric collapsed, falling into Sky’s arms as she knelt in the spring grass, her voice soft as she whispered even softer words to him.
For a while, they just sat there, Sky talking about nothing as Eric shook in her embrace, exhaustion and relief wracking his body as he sobbed in her arms. It was barely a fraction of the battle, and he didn’t think it would last forever, not with Lucas still under Lucifer’s control; but for the moment, even this small victory had him worn out with relief.
Eric’s trembling eased by slow degrees, and eventually his mind calmed, even though his breathing was still ragged. Sky rocked him back and forth, her own breaths growing uneven as she said, “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I thought I’d lost me, too,” he said; beneath the hoarseness of his words, a soft gravel bit at them, Eric’s own voice coming from his mouth again at last. Reluctantly, he pushed himself up and out of Sky’s embrace, only to decide that he was going to hold her instead. Pulling her tightly against his chest, he said softly, “Thank-you, Angel. I’d still be lost, if it weren’t for you.”
“You just needed to believe in yourself, Eric. You need to see your value for yourself,” she said against him, pulling herself in closer to him.
His hands moved of their own desire, stroking her hair, her shoulders and back after so long of not touching her. Burying his face in her hair, he blew out a soft breath as he said, “But what if I forget again? What if I can’t see the good in me tomorrow, and I go back to hating myself? How can I love you the way I want to if I can’t love myself?”
Pulling herself around so she was sitting in his lap, Sky wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly as she countered, “Then I’ll just have to love you enough for both of us until you can believe it again.”
Putting his hands behind her back, Eric returned her embrace, just drinking in her presence. After a moment, however, he pulled back, his emerald eyes widening slightly as he said, “That’s it.”
Sky looked up at him as he scrambled to his feet, confusion on her face as she said, “What is?”
Eric reached down, pulling Sky up to meet him as he said, “How to save the others. Call Sammy, Sky; we need him and his kindness to get Delilah back.”