Soul Sliver

"Morningstar, Morningstar, Morningstar?" Dearil, The Lord of Ash, stood beside a bookcase, holding a grimoire within his hands. He stroked his chin in with heavy reflection. "I have heard of that name before."

Dearil's brow creased, and he closed his book shut, placing it back down on the shelf that filled the left wall of his study.

"Ah, I remember," he recalled solemnly, tracing his fingers slowly over the bookshelf that smelt of old ink and decay, stoping upon a tattered spine of a grimoire. Pulling it from its shelf, the bitterness of brimstone flared through the air.

Flipping open on its own, like there was a strange force tugging at the pages, revealing an endless stream of indescribable writing written in the Language of the Hells. However, such runes were all but faded due to the passage of time, all except one. Standing untouched by time stood one name that remained perfect for all to read, no matter whether one knew how to read or not.

"Morningstar," Dearil confirmed, paling at the implications. He ran his finger over Morningstar, which sat proudly within the Infernal Scripture.

"Uncle," A soft yet cold voice resounded, startling Dearil more than the name written over the grimoire; Shifting to the source of the voice, a mysterious silver entity faded as an illusion appeared. No feature could be observed, but the glint of recognition shot through the Lord of Ash.

"So it's true, the Silver Devil still lives." He whispered, both torn and cold. Conflicted over the cruel fate forced upon a child, Dearil lowered the Infernal Grimoire and sighed. "You should have stayed dead."

Resting helplessly over the icy ground on Alos, Zariel smiled, willing his Soul Sliver to speak, "A shame, don't you think. Such a thing happened, even after all the help you gave my family and me."

"So you have mastered the manipulation of souls, have you? I saw your body destroyed and your Soul Flame stolen. I am sure it is in pieces. Are you sure splitting your soul to speak with me was wise?" Dearil probed.

"My soul is fine. Thanks for your concern, Uncle Dearil." Zariel politely replied, showing a warmth he rarely revealed. "And I see you have not changed. You are still leaving your castle defenseless in a Higher realm such as this."

"Should Aether dear invade the land governed by the Tribunal once more, the Redwoods will feed once more. I am sure you remember how we took in one of their God Realms, pulling it into our domain to slaughter everything that lived." Dearil casually remarked, licking his lips, recalling the day one of the Twelve Planes', known as Aether, bled.

Chuckling, Zariel shook his head, "How could I forget. You bragged before bedtime as Mother tucked me in."

"Zariel." Dearil hesitantly said, "Titus was not to blame; you do know that, right?"

"have you dared to tell her family then?" The young lord coldly barked, baring a ripple of grievous anger, "Have you dared to tell them how Titus raped her when she was at her lowest and without memory? Have you told them how he abandoned her known her identity? Did you think I would not have found out?"

"My boy, I--"

"No, Dearil. I am not here to ask for your forgiveness. I am furious! You all were used as pawns, and I want vengeance. I want Titus to experience the flames of hell; I want his screams to resound throughout Illuthath. I want him to beg, scream, cry, and regret. I wish to see it all."

Dearil grew cold, losing his familial warmth. His scarlet eyes glistened with a destructive force, "If you stand against the family, you stand against me."

Zariel bellowed in laughter, causing the silver Soul Sliver to turn black, brimming with a corrosive sin; his crackles ran like ghoulish wails. "I would expect nothing less, uncle. We have no choice but to be enemies. I am, after all, Illuthath's greatest killer. No, I am here to make an alliance, to win you the throne. The one thing you have been craving."

"Yuki told you?" The Lord of Ash shockingly said as he had only told a single soul of his ambition.

"Mother was never one to hold secrets from me. She was even willing to help you." Zariel snapped, pulling at the linen tunic drenched in sweat against the icy snow. He growled, allowing the chilling breeze to cool his searing flesh.

"Hate me if you must, but I will not turn on the family,"

The Silver Devil sneered contemptuously as his soul sliver began to fade, "It wasn't up to you. I know you wish for the throne, and I will be sure you take it. Whether we join forces or not, the Weaves of Fate have already begun to spin, Dearil."

Falling into a sea of endless embers fluttering about, Dearil watched bitterly as they faded away, returning to the Astral Sea, known as the Land of Souls.

"Brother, it will seem like your era is coming to an end." Said The Lord of Ash, staring down at the Infernal Grimoire held tightly in his palm." Zariel Snow, your son, and Aurelia Morningstar are coming for you, Titus."

...

...

...

Dashing through the Redwoods, sweat cascaded down Aurelia's cheeks as she glanced to her rear, consumed with over a hundred Cre'von all racing towards them, etching closer with each passing step.

"It's the ninth round," Balder roared, with panic leading the group, with a clear map in hand, filled with names and hand-drawn marking of past predecessors indicating safe zones or traps. "One more round and we are done for the day!"

Glancing at Ella, who trailed behind Balder, followed by Sionn, to guard against the other three following behind, Aurelia took a quick peek at her surroundings with calm precision. Moving at only a third of her speed, compared to the other's whose body was still human, her stamina had not fallen by much.

"Ella. You're in charge; go ahead. I will catch up." The Young Fallen declared as her feet suddenly came to a swift halt.

Startle, Ella turned to see the moment Sionn tossed his Scimitar towards her. Catching it in a swift catch, she smiled and nodded with thanks.

"Run and don't stop," She said as a nightmarish aura began to emanate from her pores. Sucking the life away, the grass began to wither, and the trees started to thin.

"Bitch, who are you to as a woman to lead our lord!" Caldor shouted, but his footsteps did not stop. "Let this be an honor. Die for our lord!'"

Aurelia smiled as a demonic staff materialized within her left hand. Sucking away the light, she turned to the incoming army. "I am going to kill that man when I return."