Words of Power

The car was stuffy. Even with the windows open, the heat from the rising sun was blistering. Foiros, of course, didn't mind. Sat in the passengers seat looking out into the Nevadan desert, he was deep in thought. It didn't help that Gabriel had seemed to get the hang of the communication between the two of them, and he was much less cautious about when he used it. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭? 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘯𝘰𝘵. Over and over he'd repeat the same words. Echoing the deepest fears of Foiros himself. Meanwhile, Dowling was driving the car, consulting the very out of date map that the God of Order had provided. It failed to account for several changes to the area they drove through, and on one occasion failed to account for a whole town. Much to Dowling's dismay he insisted they follow his map as it required precision. Jane spent her time thinking over her meeting with Gabriel, pushing herself forward on his cut off last words. For nearly a whole day: Foiros thinking, Dowling annoyed, and Jane reminiscing. They did make one stop in Nashville. Per Foiros' request. He disappeared into a pharmacy for almost an hour before emerging empty handed. Giving no information to Jane or Dowling for his reasoning.

However, despite all his secrecy the reason was blatant to anyone who knew the slightest thing about Foiros.

𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚, 4 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒈𝒐…

𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘰𝘥'𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯, 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 '𝘈𝘸ọ𝘯 𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘯ṣẹ 𝘵𝘪 𝘉𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯' 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘖𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘖𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘖𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘍𝘰𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺. 𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴…𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥.

𝘚𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘎𝘰𝘥. 𝘍𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘍𝘰𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘚𝘦𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘍𝘰𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘈𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘈 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘮. 𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘌𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘢, 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘰𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘴' 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

𝘍𝘰𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘢. 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦, 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

When they finally arrived at their destination. A cemetery in Texas. Foiros would get out the car quickly walking over to the locked gate and simply pulling the lock off the gates. "Murder, breaking and entering, what's next defiling a grave?" Dowling would say exasperated, as he followed Foiros through the now open gate. "Yes." Was all the reply he would receive as he exchanged a disapproving look with Jane. "So what are we doing here? I thought we were going to Hell, shouldn't we be at a big pentagram by now?" Jane would say as she followed the two of them, she did so checking her weapon at the same time before rebolstering it. The sight of which prompted Dowling to do the same and Foiros to simply smile. "That's a bit cliché Captain, the King of Hell loves his subtle hints." He would say stopping by a gravestone. One which was by far the simplest of all around the cemetery. Whilst others had huge statues, and assortments of flowers. This was a simple headstone with a name on it. No date of death, and an unkept grave. "What do you make of the name?" Foiros would say turning to the two with him, eager to see if they were clever in any capacity. "Chetole Mellow? What kind of name is that?" Dowling would say looking over at Jane who kept her eyes on the name.

"It's not. It's an anagram. For 'Welcome to Hell'. Bit on the nose" Jane would say finally, eliciting a bigger smile from the God of Order, "You haven't seen anything yet," He would bring up his hand a knife forming between his fingers as he did so. This caused both Dowling and Jane to draw their weapons on him, Foiros would raise his hands up, slowly moving the knife to his other hand and cutting it. The knife would then disappear and he'd make a gesture as if to say 'Can i continue?' in response the guns were lowered and Foiros nodded. He knelt down beside the grave and formed a fist with his cut hand, placing it above the grave. "By old blood, by sacred right, by invitation the Lord of Order commands you open" He would say as gold blood dripped onto the earth below him. There would be a slight groan of the earth before black smoke flew out of the ground, forming into a giant figure, pale in colour and holding a giant battle-axe with one hand. "By sacred right, by sacred right, you've come to fight, you've come to fight, Hell is closed, to all be one, enter now and be reposed," The thing would say, it's voice dark and gloomy, Jane and Dowling peered over at Foiros for his reaction to the very clear threat. "Oh piss off," He'd say flicking his hand causing flames to rise on the gravestone, the thing on it didn't seem to care. The flames rose higher and higher, and it just sat there. Barely scorched. "A fight, a fight, what a pleasant sight."

The thing would stand up, towering over Foiros by nearly a whole metre, before back handing him and causing him to be thrown back several feet and crash into a gravestone. As the rubble from it began to settle a bronze blade flew out from beneath it. Jane recognised it as Gabriel's only slightly different in colour, as it struck the thing, which she now assumed was a demon in the torso. He grunted pulling the blade out and dropping it beside him. "You think im normal demon, but in truth i'm Daemon. Half man half hell, no blade can stop me" The Daemon would say as he began walking to the rubble from which Foiros had risen. He managed to narrowly avoid the battle-axe as it swung above his head and he managed to kick the Daemon in the chest, flinging him back. As Foiros moved forward his green eyes were set aflame, a raging fire born within them. He picked up the blade nonetheless and lunged forward exchanging deafening blows with the Daemon. Jane stood by unsure of what to do in this situation, but the Mason was already getting to work gathering certain flowers he had spotted around them. He motioned Jane to follow him and she did. When she got to him he was cutting up the flowers into small parts. "Daemons are the strongest of the lower circle of Hell, immune to angelic and mundane weaponry alike, but they have one single weakness, which I'm not sure Foiros is aware of" Dowling would look up.

The Lord of Order maintained his attacks, attempting to burn and pummel the Daemon to submission. Both his and the Daemons punches, although connecting with the target, did absolutely nothing as both were using their powers to maintain a position. He managed to get the Daemon on the defensive as he used the battle-axe to propel himself upwards and place a kick to the Daemons arm, causing the weapon to be dropped. As he continued to pressure the Daemon he looked over at Dowling, "I swear if you don't hurry up I'll kill you myself!" He'd shout right before getting brutally hit in the face causing a small amount of blood to trickle from his nose.

Dowling nodded as he finished cutting up the flowers, "Okay, ready?" He would say to Jane who nodded, picking up some of the flower bits and running towards Foiros. As she got within range she threw the flower pieces in the air, shouting "Now!" as she did. Foiros pushed the Daemon back, igniting the flowers with a flick of his wrist before aiming his hand at the Daemon. "I command thee, unclean spirit, infernal adversary, Daemon. Tell me your names!" As he said this the burning flowers surrounded the Daemon and froze it in place.

"I am Callaghan"

"I am Sastore"

The Daemon spoke with two voices, the flowers surrounding him burning to ash as he regained control of his body he lunged forward grabbing Jane in his hand picking her up above his head. "Word twister, you will stop if you wish to assist her" He would growl towards Foiros who stared at him. 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳. A voice from his left would say, he'd turn his head, Gabriel standing there. 𝘛𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺. Foiros raised an eyebrow as he thought about what Gabriel could be suggesting. After a moment he realised and nodded his head. The power of the fallen angels began cursing through his veins. He motioned to Dowling to come to him and as he did, he put his hand behind his back, palm up. Dowling understood, pouring his portion of the flowers over. "Alright, you win Sastore-Callaghan," Foiros would say moving forward, a smile on his face. "Words of power, yet no flower," Sastore-Callaghan would say laughing as he threw Jane into the air with all his force, causing a scream to exit her lungs as she was thrown into the air. Foiros acted quickly, summoning Gabriel's wings and flying up after her dropping the flowers above Sastore-Callaghan as he did. "Now detective!"

As Foiros flew upwards the flaming wings ignited the flowers above the Daemon, and by the time he had stopped laughing and noticed Dowling was Infront of him, hand pointing at the Daemon, "I command thee, unclean spirit, infernal adversary, Sastore!" Dowling would shout, the being in front of him being bound by the invisible force of the flowers, started twitching, and cursing. "I command thee, release the mortal coiled within, as your life ends, let his begin!" A deep scream would echo out of the Daemon as the words of power were said. Meanwhile, about a mile up Foiros caught up with Jane grabbing her up from beneath, her hands which were covering her face wrapped around his neck as he did. "Thank you," She said, clearing her throat slightly, "I wasn't sure you would help"

Foiros looked over at her nodding, before divebombing back towards the ground, once again Jane screamed as they neared the ground ever faster. The Daemon and Dowling coming into few, suddenly Foiros would reposition them into an upright position, Jane now piggybacking him as he drew the fallen blade. It would set alight as they flew to the ground before the God of Order impaled the back of the Daemon with it, pulling it all the way down as they finally landed. The large cut along the Daemon's back cauterised quickly. The being screaming in agony as his body slowly transformed: his form halved in size, his skin became tanned. After a few moments a middle aged man lay naked, quivering on the floor. Hiding his face with his hands as the others looked down on him.

"Rosemary and Sage. They have certain supernatural uses if you know the right words and language. Good job Detective." Foiros would say as he watched the man writhing on the floor, "Come, the gate awaits" he turned and began walking back towards the gravestone when he realised neither of them moved. "Well we I have can't just leave him!" Jane would say defensively causing the Lord of Order to roll his eyes before clicking his fingers. "There you are, hospital.Now come the gate awaits." This time they followed him back to the gravestone at which he stopped and looked back at them. "So, who's going to do it this time? Clearly it didn't like me."

Jane stepped forward extending her hand, to which Foiros placed in the knife. As she knelt down beside the gravestone she looked up at him. "Now this is very important. The words you say, they have no power without belief, you must utterly believe what you say will happen." The God of Order would say seriously, "Yeah but, I don't know the language you used" Jane would retort, to which Foiros smiled. "The language doesn't matter in this case, your belief does." After saying this he'd walk over to Dowling crossing his arms and watching Jane. The Captain would cut her palm slightly, forming a fist and raising it over the grave. "By the name of a fallen angel, I command you, by the blood of the atrial, I command you," She'd pause a moment, watching her blood drip down and the earth churn, almost waiting for her to finish what she was saying. Like a password that needed to be uttered. "Gabriel"

The ground beneath her feet shuddered, and split open. Cracks forming out from the gravestone, a blue light shining from within them before they joined in the form of a pentagram and created a crater in the ground. Easily hundreds of feet in depth. There was no defences triggered. Nothing stopping them. Such a pure intention, one from the heart and solidified with love, was something Hell was not prepared for.