Fragment 6: Aviar - Prince of Furorica

Marshal started to fall, gravity pulling him to the Voidium mists below. Delving into the bottomless pit of shimmering particles, the ship's thrusters- went silent, his body as if he had dived underwater, the distorted and fragmented outline of the goliath of a warship above him.

He drifted for a moment in the mist, a space void of mortal senses or meaning. He turned, aligning himself with the glimmer of the ship above, and flicked his core online. His lifeline was getting further away.

Suppose if he missed, he might fall forever. No one knew how far the fog went, or at least none that returned knew.

He should let go.

He almost did.

He raised his palm and reached for the ship's hull, the glimmer of gemstones like a razor in his fingers. What if he chose not to reconnect? What if he wanted to fall forever? Why should he continue living in a realm that rejected him? There were so many options, so many reasons to put down his hand and give up. So why didn't he?

"Mar," Shadow said.

The voice felt far, warped somehow, as if just above the surface. He hooked to a group of gravitation anchors and flew up, piercing the mists as he reeled toward the warship.

"Are you crazy?" Shadow screamed. "I've been calling you; what if you lost your chance to surface again?"

Marsh amped his core and rocketed his connection to match the ship's thrusters. Luckily, it was only cruising. His heavy body would no doubt be unable to keep up with it at full throttle. Yet again, his solid diamond bones—meant to make him harder to kill—limited his abilities, forcing him to rely on tethered movements.

"Hey, are you ignoring me?" Shadow said.

Marsh lifted his legs and surged the Gravium to his heels. The result was that he tethered his feet to the ship's side. He suspected there might be a benefit to having an all-crystalline skeleton, and being an organic magnet was one of them. Using his feet, he connected them to gemstones and used that tension to keep his footing. And, of course, he had to pick a stable source like internal fixtures, such as Voltite lights. But the effect was like walking on walls if the wall was a warship, and he ignored the whiplash of wind trying to tear him off.

Peering up from the depths of the underworld, he frowned at the voidscrapers that towered over the realm like hanging monuments to their defeat—a blasted sight of hundreds of buildings littering the realm's ceiling. It was a reminder of his failure. They had lost their amber sky and hid underground like rats, the monsters above claiming their home. He sighed. He would have been better off dying with the rest of his comrades. The weight of their lost hopes pressed on him, suffocating, as if he carried their ghosts on his back. What was being royalty if his kingdom no longer existed? Why did he have to survive? Why couldn't that dragon, like the rest of his friends, just eat him whole?

"I know you're a suicidal prick," said Shadow, "but do you have to be so bleak? Gawd, it's no wonder you can't find a partner. Hell, I bet you would infect them with your gloominess too."

The man-child whined in a tone nothing like Marsh's usual sandy voice.

"Who you calling man-child?" said Shadow.

The floating image of himself pouted, his formless body crossing his arms as if the blistering wind didn't affect him. But before he could swat the blazing idiot, an Aviar twinkled into his sight. Standing on a balcony below, the man looked up, a grin lacing his lips. His curved figure could hook a blind woman, or even a man for that matter. The ins and outs of his figure were so sultry; it defied the world of sight and leaked into others.

"I wasn't expecting room service," the man chewed his lip. "But I guess I can make an exception."

"I'm not room service,"

"That's debatable." Said the Aviar, "Because I would certainly take a bite."

Shadow drooled next to him. "Maybe we could take a detour? Just saying."

Blanking the brainless comment, Marsh cleared his throat.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, plenty of things," the Aviar replied, eyes gleaming. "But if you insist on specifics—something hard, pulsing, and willing to pin me against the wall."

Marsh let out a sigh.

The Aviar shrugged his shoulders, "What you didn't specify. But is that a no?"

Marsh glowered at the pretty man, but immune to his glare or plain ignoring it, the man's grin grew brighter.

"Oh, don't be so uptight. I promise, what I offer is unlike anything you'd find in Hell's brothels." he spread his wings, the glittering transparent flakes surrounding Marsh from all sides. "They call me divine, an experience you must feel to believe."

"I'm not interested," Marsh said.

"Are you crazy? This gorgeous specimen wants to fuck you, and you said no?" Shadow said. "I get the only thing you can do is swing a sword, but how about you try putting it inside someone one day."

"Shame, I wondered what a prince tasted like." The Aviar said.

Marsh surged Voltite, his body flushing with green sparks. "Who do you work for?"

The man just laughed, his wings flapping with his chuckle, his smooth frame wrapping the balcony's bars, as he couldn't contain the fit of giggles. And interrupting him before Marsh could, a smash broke out from the man's room, and what sounded like a door hammered open.

"You!" screamed an Aristocratic voice. "Why won't you offer your services? I have the shards."

The Aviar crossed his legs, recomposing himself. "We might be in the sex city of Amorica, but all services are based on consent." The man looked the Lord over, his creamy face twisting at the sight. "And no offence but I can smell you from here."

"How dare you!" boomed the voice. "I am a diplomat of Vaingloria, and denying me disrespects my title and the Emperess Sylvain."

Marsh scoffed, recognising the diplomat's empty threat. Even the Aviar couldn't help but smirk at the mention of Empress Sylvain—a woman whose laws held no sway in Amorica. The prideful woman might rule council votes, but she was far from popular with the masses, much less in the king of lust's domain. Her ridiculous laws held no validity in this airspace; in fact, they were broken in spite here. Even her children hated her, him included.

"If you have a problem, take it up with King Blackwood because I refuse to fuck a Yeti." Said the Aviar.

With a thunderous growl, the lean yet powerful Theri lord stormed onto the balcony, his snow-white hair and jagged grey tusks marking him as one of the fierce northern savages. More beast than man, his large hands strangled the Aviar's throat, his snarl filled with intention.

"Who you calling Yeti, you fucking fairy."

Marsh hooked his sight to the balcony panel below and to the whisper of Voltite that lined the tip of the hull. It was a light source to gauge depth and had low tethering power, but was better than nothing. He tethered his crystalline skeleton to the Voltite, and the same energy that kept him upright shot him down and impaled the balcony. He embedded himself firmly on the steel with an impact that rattled the structure. The spark was so sudden that he had to forcefully stop his surging to not take the whole thing with him. But it made a dramatic entrance as the Theri spun around, his anger turning to confusion, then fear as he noticed Marsh's fangs.

"You filthy Vampire," he slurred.

Saying nothing, Marsh took a step, and the Lord nearly pissed himself as he did so. However, fully seizing the opportunity, the Aviar wrapped his fingers around the beast man and lifted the Lord. The Aviar's glittering wings kicked in, giving him the lift he needed to hoist the Theri over the edge and release him, the Lord's scream fading into the void. The entire sequence unfolded in frames, each blink capturing the Yeti's scream before he hit the void. And if Marsh didn't know better, it appeared like the man's body and voice snapped out of existence.

"You realise you just tossed a Vaingloria diplomat overboard, right? They're not known for letting such offences slide easily." Marsh said, turning to the Aviar.

The fluttering man landed, a smile plastering his lips. "Shouldn't be a problem for someone of your rank. Just say your hand slipped."

"I'm a monarch but not infallible."

"Come on, I know you've done worse. Besides, her Empress is soft on you."

Marsh frowned, inspecting the well-dressed man. His mother was never soft.

"Out with it, who are you?" he said.

"Just your average high-end—"

"Quit the games," Marsh said. "I know you're more than that."

The Aviar raised his hands. "Guess you caught me. Gideon says hi."

Marsh paused. Very few demons referred to the ruler of Envy in such a familiar manner, much less knew about him.

"What's Covetia's spy doing on this hellcraft?"

"Why is the prince of Furorica on this bang boat?" the spy cocked back.

The men eyed each other, Marsh tightening his jaw.

But giving into the staring contest, the spy sighed. "You know I can't tell you. Even if I wanted to."

"I'm aware."

"If I were to mention that your sister has caused another... incident, you'd have to ensure no one knew you heard it from me."

Marshal exhaled through his nose.

Of course she did.

He ran a hand down his face, fingers digging into his jaw.

"You clean up my mess, and I'll help with yours," the spy said.

Marshal shut his eyes. He was so tired.

"You aren't giving me much of an option." he said

The spy smiled.

"I know."

Marsh cracked his neck; no doubt this would be an exhausting few hours. His eyes regarded the luxurious room the spy occupied, but like a sniffer hound, he spotted a half-finished bottle of brandy. Well, at least he had something to drink. He would need it.