First Star

Back in Salem, neither Zariel nor Aurelia had much contact with those around her age. And while Zariel couldn't be bothered to show much interest, Aurelia was thrilled. She jumped in joy, skipping about with Zyile in her arms at all the students walking about the halls. 

Zariel wasn't having it, forcing Selene to direct him toward his chambers first. He wrote something on Aurelia's naked palm and closed the door to their faces. 

He ignored the decor, finding the Arcane Stones he'd ordered on his bed. Stacked neatly in a circle, he plucked them from off his bed with a slashing of his Astral Qi. And spent the remainder of the day drawing the runes necessary to create the complex array of circuits and runes necessary to invoke a teleportation portal. By the time midnight approached, he had completed it. 

The entire wall was consumed in a weave of complex symbols. 

Zariel was left breathless, gasping for air, drenched in perspiration; he felt his mind spinning from the constant use of his Spirit to manipulate the Arcana. His chest ached, and his limbs felt dead. Still, he didn't relent; giving his finger a snap, he smiled as the portal hummed to life. Arcana enriched the air in a dense mist of droplets.

He stared at the swirling vortex of mana and didn't hesitate to step inside. He chuckled, feeling a slight disturbance pass through his body. A slight tugging at his gut made worse by his already fatigued state, Zariel nearly puked as he fell to a knee. 

"It's hard being so weak and a genius." He smiled. "But it's better this way. Before my body… Before, my body wasn't necessarily equipped to handle the Weave. " Zariel staggered to his feet, walked from out his lab cellar, and opened his Sprit Domain. 

Through his Minds Eye, he found the sleeping Genny in the serpent's quarters. He chuckled, shaking his head, noticing her haggard state, quickly casting a cleansing spell upon her before his attention was pulled to something else. 

His eyes grew sharp, and the sword that hung on his back was drawn. He moved like a shadow cutting through the manor into Aurelia's room without a sound. He smelt it then. The pungent scent of brimstone. 

Zariel's expression couldn't have darkened more. And his Spirit domain expanded from fifty meters to nearly a hundred in the blink of an eye. The zenith of his current state. He saw not with his eyes but the soul, arriving in front of her mirror, stained red with lettering. 

The marking was written in Infernal and read, "Zariel… who is your friend?" 

Bloodlust sprang through the Silver Devil's eyes, tainting it to red. He glanced around, staring at the many objects on Aurelia's dressing table.

Whatever manner of creature had invaded his home without setting off the alarms had touched everything. From the small shards of Arcane Stone that had once caught Aurelia's eyes in passing to the small souvenirs she'd collected. A blood print had entered his eyes and, with it… a hilt. 

A sword hilt. 

Zariel tilted his head, not recognizing the hilt. He tried lifting it with his Astral Qi, but the hilt remained unmoved. 

"Oh?" He lifted a brow before peering through it with the Weave, finding something strange. There was nothing. Not a string or nodes. All that existed before him was a simple hilt without a blade. 

Curious, he lifted the blade after a moment of deliberation. It was light, much like a feather, yet the weight was extremely proportioned. 

"A swordsman or any sort of weapon master would have noticed almost instantly. So whatever manner demon or devil that followed me must be either weak or lacking when it comes to hand-to-hand combat." He determined. "Is this what that fool Castilan wanted?" 

Zariel pocketed the hilt and reemerged in his cellar. He snapped a finger at a particular frequency set to the same frequency as his soul, and his entire lab swirled with arcane light. Activated by his unique password, several monitors appeared one by one, revealing a picture-perfect recording of the events these past few weeks. 

He hadn't much hope, seeing his opponent was either a demon or, worse, a devil. But as the recording skimmed across his eyes, he was as silent as the dead. From day one to the tenth day, he watched for about an hour before stopping upon a strange creature. Shrouded by a vale of mist, seeking to mask itself within the darkness. Three red iridescent light shone from its head, signifying its possibly three eyes. 

The creature was tall, nearly six feet, and was quite light of foot. No sound echoed from his step. No vibration whatsoever. 

"A mage, perhaps?"He persisted for another hour but saw nothing more then. "He never entered my Lab. I was able to ward it better than most of the castle. Still… Oh right. Did he find Jon?"

Hurrying down into the dungeon, the echoes of screams skimmed across the young boy's ears as he hurried over to the cell that housed his toy. 

Jon was howling; his lips and skin cracked like leather, blistering with puss and blood. He didn't seem much like a man or a boy now. Just a broken doll. Muscles that once protruded from his flesh were gone, eaten away by the many weeks without food or water.

"Jon," said the Silver Devil, opening his cell. He walked inside, ignoring the various needles delivering much-needed nutrients to keep him alive. He stepped in closer, glancing at the small Soul Flame, barely touching the Arcane Lamp billowing a warm heat before turning it off. "Jon? Are you still in there? Jon, it's me, Master." 

The bloodshot eyes that had sunken far into his skull snapped to meet his tormentor. Fear or perhaps untold horror pooled like a great pyre of bodies through his eyes. 

"M-A-S-T-E-R," Jon spelled out. 

'Ah, so it seems that was just enough. Jon hasn't broken to the point where he forgot words,' Zariel thought. And said, "I like your ashen hair. I must have really done you in. Good on you. Will you be good now?" 

Jon, the Slave, nodded. A part of him so broke he seemed beyond recognition. He smiled a crooked smile, revealing his missing teeth. 

Severing the chains with his tattered sword, Zariel said, "Go get yourself cleaned up. And recover your lost strength. Genny will help you. Oh… and if you touch her inappropriately, I'll make this torment seem like a wet dream." 

He left after that, walking through the portal to meet the many faces of unfamiliar men and women in his room. He tilted a head, spotting Augustine Wright, the Headmaster. 

"What are you doing?"

"Us!" Professor Vortis snapped. "Did you make this?! In your room! Are you mad? What if it becomes destabilized? What if it explodes? It'll kill us all!" 

"Kill you? Well, it might transport you to the Astral Sea, but you'll most definitely live… at least for a few seconds," The boy mouthed. 

Vortis nearly struck him. He felt the anger run to his face when an arm was placed on his shoulder. The headmaster shook his head, about to speak, when he saw an emerald light lash out from Zariel's fingertip, cutting through the teleportation rune. 

Life and death practically flashed through the eyes of everyone present as they closed their eyes, screaming. When the impact never arrived, one by one, eyes opened. 

"See? It's fine. I don't make things unstable. I'm not an idiot. Now get out of my room. I'm tired." he turned back towards the shattered Teleportation portal slowly repairing itself and nodded before floating above the heads of everyone towards his bedroom. 

"And don't forget to close the door." 

The professors all watched in disbelief. They'd all sensed the Arcane pulse of energy whirl through the dormitory and had hurried out to investigate. Never had they expected to be not only scolded by a child but also intrigued by the boy's knowledge. 

"What spell was that? It felt like an Eldritch spell." 

"Seems like a variant spell." 

"Or—" 

"Alright. Alright," the headmaster said with a cheerful smile. He gave his long beard a stroke and said, "We'll discuss Malos Blackwater tomorrow. Let's get some rest."

As the professors took their leave, Zariel stood in his room with an icy grimace, shrouded by a dense mist of Arcana, coursing into his pores, slowly being refined by his twelve gates. Silver nodes of Arcana gathered within his core, clustering together to form a star. 

Burden by the intensity of the Arcana cycle through the meridians, Zariel's skin turned red like a cooked lobster. Perspiration dotted his flesh, branded by hundreds of veins pressed against his skin.

The Silver Devil nearly thought he was being boiled in hot oil once more as the pain continued to build. He could feel his core containing most of the Arcana. Still, the mere aura of the Arcana snapped at the boy's senses, seeking to make him scream. 

He held it in. Baring the pain that could not compare to the unending torture of his Hell. he would not relent. Not to this warm bath. He expanded his domain, spreading the Spirit a hundred meters. The Arcana was devoured, pulled into the inverted star that was his core. 

Boom! The sound came like the crackle of thunder against a castle wall. The hum of it all resounded down the halls, echoing from his body. 

Bones shattered, and organs ruptured, causing blood to explode from the mouth and eyes. Zariel Snow grinned as a fundamental change emerged from his fleshy body, pressuring his chambers, shattering mirrors and table oak alike. 

A Silver Star blazed within his core like an indomitable flame.