Chapter 7: The cracks in the mask.

Orion scrubbed the floor, keeping an eye on Edwin, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed. Never, and Orion was sure that his memory was not betraying him now, had he done something like that for a mortal.

And yet…

He shook his head. Edwin was sick. He was surely not thinking about what he was saying. How could he? The man had a fever high enough to melt even the highest of mountain snow cap.

But…

Never, not even once, had someone told Orion that his eyes were like a raging snowstorm.

He had tried to be calm with Edwin, as the man heaved and rolled around, looking like death warmed over, feeling worse because he had puked all over Orion's foot, and the blasted arrow twitching back towards Heaven with every broken up apology and attempt to clean the mess he had done.

All of Orion's hard work had been reduced to nothing in the span of five minutes. Oh, he took that as a personal challenge. There was no way the man he wanted to rope into becoming an agent of hell could be that much of a brick, could he?

It was impossible. Everyone wanted something. There was no way that Edwin just wanted to keep on existing! Why was his heart even still beating if that was the case? What was the bloody point?

Orion blinked, as he saw that he had peeled off the paint on the wooden floorboards with how much he had been scrubbing them.

The dark brown gave way to a sickly yellow-brown color, which had looked magnificent as a part of a living tree, Orion was sure, but now made him just want to bash his head against a hard surface.

This apartment looked too cheap to withstand such abuse, so Orion had to reign himself in.

Well… at least there was no more puke on the floorboards. The room still stank of sickness, which Orion could not stand anymore.

With sure steps, he went to the balcony door, and then opened it as gently as possible, not wanting to tear it off its hinges. It looked old, just like everything else in the cheap rental place.

What Orion was unable to understand was, why Edwin's roommates did not bother to come and check up on him. He had heard them coming back from work late in the night. He was pretty sure that they had heard the puking noises.

Humans, always a mystery, a pain in the behind, and never, ever, without a purpose.

Well, apart from Edwin, it seemed.

The soft light of the moon bathed Orion, being gentler to his eyes than the blazing sun during the day. He did not care that his shadow looked like how he really looked. A demon in humanoid form, two black raven-like wings, gnarled at the edges, with some feathers missing.

He did not care, for he could still hear Edwin breathing calmly in bed.

But he should have cared.

For, Edwin had a security camera in his room. Just in case someone got in his room while he was in the bathroom. Something spurned from that one news's report back in May last year, where some wizard went around and hid in people's closets for shit and giggles.

The camera recorded everything, its green light, something Orion had mistaken for some sort of weird Router, for Edwin had made a rune to make it look like one, blinking.

0000

The next morning, Edwin could not bear his own stench. The taste in his mouth was about as putrid as something that crawled out of hell, got caught by some elves who were living in a bamboo forest city, and then cooked with spices which could have put someone to sleep for good on their own, but were considered delicacies.

He kicked off the blanket, noted that Orion was napping on his desk chair, and sneaked out with the bathrobe in his hands, straight to the bathroom.

Tomorrow, he would need to go back to work. How his employers would view him now, that he had a bone to pick with the mayor, he did not know. He was leaving anyway, but if they got it in their heads to kick him out earlier, then he would have that black spot on his worker's profile for the rest of his life.

There was lukewarm water, which was still better than nothing. It was not like they ever turned off the water heather, but it seemed that he had woken up just before his roommates had gone to work, so, after two people, the heater had simply not reheated enough water.

When Edwin was washing his hair, he expected his fingers to feel up some old puke in the hair, but he found nothing. His hair was just as clean as the day before, well, maybe not just as because his sweat had drenched up in the braid, but he was just thankful that he did not have to stay in the bathroom for the next five hours, or so.

Honestly, some days, he did not know why he did not cut his hair. When he was still young, his parents had very strong opinions about that phase, as they called him listening to indie rock, of his.

Most of his classmates had short hair, and one could figure out their gender at a glance. Short hair, boy, long hair, girl.

But Edwin had liked his hair long because when he kept it short, he looked like someone with a very poorly styled afro.

It also did not help that he was yet to start looking his age. He had often joked about how eating tons of chocolate and cocoa milk had kept him from aging, but now, when he still got stopped in front of high schools by angry teachers, who thought he was up to no good rascal, he did not find it funny.

He tried to imagine himself with a beard, or, if that was too much for his face to produce, at least a scrub.

Then he shook his head. He would probably still look like a girl, but one with a beard. And that, he decided, was an entirely new type of hornet's nest.

Still, he could not help but think that it had been nice of Orion to hold his braid while he puked. More than nice, for Edwin was pretty sure he had ended up puking on the man, and that more than once.

He ran his hand through his wet hair, and then sighed. Well… the man had said that he wanted something from him. Edwin had no wish to end up stoned to death, but he could at least hear the offer, couldn't he?

With that in mind, he went back to his room, dressed up quickly after he checked to see if Orion was still asleep, and then blinked.

Why was his camera blinking? Had he not turned it off two days ago, to save up on electricity? Honestly, the tiny thing was costing him a grand total of 20 gold coins per month, and the possibility that the strange and very sick wizard would scale the apartment building's walls, just to hide in a wardrobe in his room, which was on the twentieth floor, was close to none.

After all, the man was in jail.

With a snort, he picked up the camera, and then out of curiosity, started to watch the feed.

At first, he just got bored. It was just him and Orion sleeping. The windows were closed, which would explain the stench which still reigned in the room. Edwin sighed, and then went to the balcony door. Opening it, he took in a deep breath of fresh air.

Ah, much better.

He was just about to turn off the camera when the picture started to shake. Curious, he looked at it more carefully.

There was Orion near the balcony door, sticking his head out, probably being as able to withstand the stench in the room as Edwin was this morning.

But then, as Edwin's eyes traveled to the man's shadow, they widened.

Wings, massive enough to carry Orion through the skies, but there was nothing angelic about them. Claws at the tips of his fingers, and the thing sticking out of his back was most certainly…

Edwin felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked into the eyes he had described as a snowstorm in his delirium just a couple of hours ago.

Orion was looking at the camera feed, his eyes glowing an eerie gray color.

"Well," Orion said, as the Orion in the feed closed the balcony door, and pulled the blinds, his shadow ending up normal. "Well, well."

Edwin tried to take a step away from Orion, but he felt something sharp pressed against his shoulder, right where Orion was holding him.

"You were not supposed to see any of this," Orion said, as he took the camera. Edwin watched in mute horror as the device smoked for a whole five seconds, before starting to meld in Orion's hands.

If the man felt any pain at having scorching hot metal and plastic running down his fingers, he did not show it.

"Snowstorm, you said?" Orion's lips turned up in a smile, as he pulled Edwin closer to himself. "I hope you have brought something warm to wear, then. Pity, you had so many years before you."

Before Edwin could so much start to beg for his life, two soft hands were wrapped around his neck, robbing him of his breath.

Orion looked down on him, not giving anything away. He looked down, a smile on his handsome face, so, as if he was caressing Edwin and not killing him.

He watched as Edwin clawed at his hands, his nails, clipped short, not strong enough to pierce through a demon's skin. The demon watched, more than a little bit pleased that he would not have to face the confusion in which Edwin put him in anymore, and then, when Edwin's hands fell to his side, and he breathed his last, Orion pulled him closer.

"I went to all this trouble," Orion said, as he looked into the glassy blue orbs which were still staring at him, even from the other side. "Just one kiss, my lady?"

Orion chuckled at his own joke, as Edwin's ghost watched in mortification as the demon pulled his lifeless body closer and connected their lips.

He watched, as Orion bit him on the neck afterward, drank from his blood, and then just let him fall on the floor. Edwin could not move; he could not think.

It looked so, as if a vampire had done it. Orion would get away with it all. He would…

"Time to come home," a gentle voice said, as Edwin felt a warmth spread in his bones. "Time to be happy."

"He can't get away with it all," Edwin whispered, as Orion just walked out of Edwin's room, whistling a merry tone. "He just can't! I… I am only twenty years old! I wanted to live to one hundred and fifty!"

The angel saw as the black miasma of corruption took a grip on the ghost's soul. He tried to calm the new ghost, tried to promise him the sweetness of heaven.

But Edwin was a runesmith, and he had not been picked at random to be Orion's new target.

It is said that every time a runesmith is murdered, the world holds its breath. If the skies do not become overcast, then the world could breathe easy again.

The angel held his breath, as the miasma spread in the room. He held his breath and looked at the storm clouds gathering outside.

"No," he whispered, as Edwin changed before his eyes. "Think what you will do to your soul!"

"I can't accept this! I won't accept it!"

Edwin's roar brought a black lightning down on the Earth. A fire spread on the streets, as the people ran for their lives.

For a Lich to be born, the world had to bleed. It had to burn, it had to be poisoned.

The angel turned his back on the ghost, knowing full well that there was nothing to be done. Orion had succeeded.

But he would not get enough time to luxuriate in his victory.