Chapter XI

The ground had gone dry since the last snow, and signs of her passage were sparse. A snapped branch here, pressed grass there. Dario was convinced that were he not a justicar he would never have been able to track this murderer. Yet, here he was, approaching in the late hours of the night, as his target awoke near her campfire.

But she was not alone. Dario caught his breath when he saw them shimmering in the starlight. Three angels surrounded the camp, and a fourth one stood in the middle, speaking to the woman who had murdered the old man in Nox.

His grey-steel sword was indestructible, but as far as he knew even its edge could not harm an angel's body. So, Dario found a hiding spot in the bushes, sat down, and prayed to the Father. “Holy Father, I face an impossible task. I have been charged with bringing a cold-blooded murderer to justice, but she is protected by servants of a false God. I ask you for the power I need in order to defeat them. I will swear any oath you wish me to swear if you will but grant me the power to do what is right.”

Dario closed his eyes and tried to quiet his mind. It was understood that when one's mind was at peace one could hear the Father's voice. Justicars and acolytes had made special oaths to the Father for centuries in exchange for unique magic, and Dario was sure that all he needed to do was tap into that ancient tradition.

Of course, rarely was what the Father asked of his followers easy. A vision of Azalea, dressed in her ceremonial redeemer robes, appeared before Dario's eyes, and his heart sank. He knew what this meant. The Father demanded that Dario swear to fall out of live with Azalea at any cost. In order to gain the Father's blessing he would have to give up the way he felt. Dario ground his teeth. He desperately wanted to do the Father's will, but the more he thought about never seeing Azalea again, which is what it would take to put an end to their love affair, the more he could not bring himself to swear that oath.

“No...please...anything else! Have I not already abandoned my search for my sister for you? Have I not already turned my back on my family for this? I was the heir of house Linnaeus! Have I not sacrificed enough to deserve to keep that?”

His questions were arrogant, and Dario knew it. The vision before his mind's eye did not change. Azalea still stood before him, clad in her ceremonial robes. Dario could feel his heart sink deeper and deeper with every passing moment. To never again hear her laugh. To never again touch her skin. To never again hold her in his arms. To never again even see her smile and know that with her all things are at peace. Dario couldn't bear it.

“I will give you what you want.” The voice was the same one that Dario had heard in his dreams. He fell backward in fright, and one of the angels looked up in his direction as the bush crackled. “You need not swear any oath. I will grant you this blessing free of conditions. All you need do is accept my gift. Do you?”

The angel who had heard Dario fall advanced towards him, both of its hands clenched in fists. The other three watched the first angel as he went to investigate the sound. Dario knew now that if he tried to run the angel would be after him immediately, and with those wings would surely catch him. If he was to survive he would have to fight. But without some divine aid he wouldn't survive the fight either.

“It's your choice, Dario. If you swear to never see Azalea again I have no doubt that the Father will grant you the power you need to slay your enemies. But I would give you that power without cost. I want nothing from you in return, except that you survive. You said it yourself, you have given the Father enough, and for very little in return. The power he's given you? It is merely so that you can fulfill HIS will. I will give you power to fulfill your own will. All you need do is accept my gift.”

The angel was now within an arm's reach, and would surely see him. “I accept your gift!” No sooner had Dario said it then he felt a terrible pain in his wrist. A wound opened up in his flesh, as if it had been cut open from the inside, and red mist flew from his arm and surrounded his blade. Once this was done, the wound sealed up again.

“You have the power you need. Slay your enemy.”

Dario erupted from the bush with a roar and pushed his blade through the angel's stomach. The blade slipped through as if the angel were made of butter rather than crystal, and cracks spread from the wound. All the while, the red mist encircled Dario's blade, and seeped into the cracks in the angel's body. The angel looked down at the wound, surprised, and then brought the back of its hand across Dario's face. Dario's body left the ground and flew off in the direction of the angel's strike.

But he held fast to the sword, and it went with him. The blade cut across the angel's mid-section, and more cracks spread across its body.

When Dario hit the ground he could feel all of the little broken bones in his jaw mending back together. “Get up and fight!” the voice practically screamed in his head. Dario pushed himself to his feet and held his sword with both hands. By now the red mist not only encompassed Dario's blade, but also surrounded his body.

The wounded angel stepped away from Dario. Another angel rushed to the side of the first one and placed a hand over the wounds, which instantly began to heal.

The third of the angels who'd been standing watch ran at Dario, its wings cutting down the trees in its path. Dario steeled himself for the impact and dug his heels into the ground. The angel twisted its body and brought one of its wings around like a blade at Dario, but Dario blocked the wing with his sword.

Grey-steel would never lose its edge, and whatever the voice had given Dario actually allowed him to cut deep into the angel's wing.

The angel groaned and brought around its other wing at Dario. With his sword still lodged in the first wing Dario could not block. Reflexively, he raised his armored left arm, only realizing a second later that his armor would never block that angel's wing.

But, apparently, the red mist could. Red mist gathered around Dario's left arm and formed a bracer, which stopped the wing before it could cut him in two.

Dario twisted the blade in his hand and yanked it from the angel's wing. The cut was deep, and the angel was furious.

Dario looked away from the wings just in time to see the angel's fist rapidly approaching his face. Dario held the edge of his sword in the way. The angel's hand was split between the middle two knuckles. Right up the forearm, and to its elbow.

Dario swelled with pride at the feeling of power that flowed through him. While the angel stared in shock at its wounded limbs, Dario brought his blade across its neck and severed the head from its body.

No sooner had this angel dropped dead than Dario saw sparkling dust encircle his body. The dust kept its distance from the red mist floating all about him, but it nevertheless whipped about him like a cyclone. Dario made a few hopeless stabs at the dust, but nothing noteworthy happened. Until the dust flew behind him and did not circle around to the front again. Dario tried to turn in time to defend himself, but the angel's fist cracked into his back, denting his armor, and sending him sprawling onto the ground again.

He was dizzy. His vision blurred, and he heard a ringing in his ear. He could tell the angel was still after him, but he could not see or hear it. “Get up!” the voice shouted.

In mere seconds Dario could feel the soreness in his muscles and bones dissipating. The ringing went away, and his vision cleared up again, just in time to see the angel bringing one of its bladed wings down upon him.

With a shout Dario swung out his blade with all of his might at the angel's wing. The sword cut right through, severing the angel's wing completely. The armor was heavy, but Dario still managed to push himself off of the ground and pierce the angel's chest with his blade. The sword ran right through, down to the hilt. Dario wrenched the sword side to side and cut the angel to pieces.

He now stood over the crumbled bodies of two angels. Power coursed all around him, and strength flowed through his arms. Yet, when he turned his attention back to his prey, he discovered that she, along with the other two angels, were long gone.

“Damn it!” Dario kicked the dirt and shouted in frustration. The girl had run away during all of the fighting. He'd gained the power to fight her protectors, but lost sight of her in the process. Now next time he caught up to her she would be expecting him.

“What does it matter? Tell me truly, Dario, what does it matter that she has escaped. There will always be murderers in this world for you to chase. Is that truly what you want? To waste your life chasing after those who do evil?” Azalea appeared to Dario in his mind's eye again, this time dressed in a noblewoman's clothes and holding a baby in her arms. “Or is this what you desire? You are the heir of house Linnaeus. Take Azalea as your wife, make her a noble lady. Is this not what you truly want? I will even help you to find your sister. The family you want united together at last. Isn't that what you truly desire? This is my gift to you if you will forsake the Father.”

Dario so deeply wished to take up the voice on this offer. He wanted so badly to be together with Azalea, to be her husband and call her his wife. He missed his sister too. He'd always wondered what had become of her, and desperately wanted to bring her home safely. It was the Cult of the Father and the order of the justicars that made him abandon this quest in favor of working to end the whole of the slave trade.

“The slave trade is not your problem,” said the voice. “You must look after your own, what you want. What good would it be to put an end to slavery but never see your sister again? Think carefully on this, Dario.”

“No!” Dario said it out loud, though there was no need to. “Away from me! I will not forsake the Father! I am a justicar. My only father is THE Father. My only mother is THE Mother. Every man is my brother. Every woman is my sister, and we are all their beloved children! Away! Now! Leave me!”

There was a moment of silence, with only the sound of the whispering trees filling the night. Then the voice spoke to Dario again. “To reject me is to reject my blessings. Understand that. I will leave you now, though you will regret that I did.”

The mist that surrounded Dario dissipated, and Dario doubled over in pain. He could feel it, his bones were broken in several places. Even his jaw was broken again. His ribs were cracked, and the cartilage torn. Dario collapsed on the ground, the whole world going dark around him.

. . .

Further off into the woods, Yashen finally stopped running, and Sandalphon reappeared before her. She held onto both of her knees with her hands and gasped for air. The night air was cold and stung the back of her throat, and she hacked and coughed.

“Do you know who that was who attacked?” asked Sandalphon.

Unable to speak just yet, Yashen shook her head.

“That was a justicar, a warrior of a cult dedicated to the false god they call The Father. Undoubtedly, he is pursuing you because of the old man you killed back in Nox.”

“It was...an...accident...” Yashen said between gasps.

“I don't think he knows or cares,” said Sandalphon. “Justicars are obsessed with justice, and for the crime of murder death is the only just sentence in store for you.”

Yashen looked up at Sandalphon, unable to voice the betrayal she felt at his words. She wanted to call him a traitor for turning on her so quickly, but she had not the breath.

“I am not obsessed with justice,” said Sandalphon. “There is always a chance for redemption, and you have already taken your first steps towards redemption. For this reason I will protect you, and you will not come to harm. Even this man, with his twisted magic, will not capture you.”

“Where...can I go...that's...safe...” Yashen gasped out.

“There is an abandoned old watch-tower not far from here. This place shall be your home for now. It will be easier to defend, should the justicar come after you again.”