1 The Silver Devil
Light of molten gold shrouded the skies of the setting sun, receding over the horizon, bringing about the endless skies of night. Clusters of countless stars gleamed through the ring of stardust, painting the night a brilliance beyond the dawn.
Suddenly, the rumbles of thunder hummed through the clear skies of the Redwood. The earth groaned as if trembling with fear, as if it were sensing something. The winds stirred, quivering, turning to howls, snapping trees like twigs. It reeled from north to south and from east to west, congealing into a whirlwind of might.
And from the Heavens, it came, shrieking across the clear skies, a searing bolt red as blood came like a cataclysm of death. It bored into the earth, turning the stones into vapor and the trees to ash. The world shuddered and screamed, thrashing back and forth like the raging seas.
Bleeding magma pooled at the surface of the earth, hardening into molten rocks. The winds came, heaving the molten rocks from the earth in a great baptism of flames that rained down upon the Redwoods.
For seven days and seven nights, the storm reigned before it faded, leaving behind a wasteland of ash and soot.
There, at the heart of it all, laid a child upon the hardened stone cool to the touch. The child appeared no more than five or six, and yet the gaze it held seemed incomprehensible to one so young.
"I… did it." The child muttered through silvery eyes, glistering a swelter of tears blurring his vision, shrieking down his cheeks. The child, the young boy, looked up at the night skies to the approaching dawn and gave a cry that came from his very depths. So pained it was those who heard it would only howl.
"I did it… I did it," said Zariel, in a whimper of mournful tears, unsure if this was just another hell loop, and yet his eyes and heart told him otherwise.
He had indeed escaped. He had climbed out of the deepest pits of the Nine Hells.
Beneath the glow of the four moons, Zariel stood up a little shakenly. He had almost forgotten how to walk on his own two feet. He wondered if he'd forgotten how to use a sword as well.
He glanced around, eyeing his surroundings of stone and soot, until the shadow of a smile graced his lips, swatting down to the black scabbard that housed a blade hidden beneath the ashes. He lifted it to his chest and dusted the ashes off it.
"You're the one thing I can't lose." Zariel ran his fingers across the obsidian cross guard of his sword. It was rusted and jagged beyond reprieve, like a piece of steel well beyond its years. "Fifty meters ought to be the limit… anymore, and I'm dead, both in body and soul," He uttered, strapping the blade to his naked back. "Then again, death ain't too bad."
A gust of wind came wrenching at his hair, as silver as the moon shimmering beneath the moon's radiance. Covered in soot from head to toe, he stood, confused about what to do or where to go.
The thought of escape had been nothing more than a dream, for he dared not wish it lest he give himself hope.
"Hope is for the weak." He'd say before his hell would start again.
For a moment, he paled, shaking in remembrance. He felt thick tendrils of bile climb from out of the pits of his stomach, scorching his throat as it came from out of his mouth. Tears involuntarily swelled through his eyes as he wiped them away.
"I'm out… I'm out." He whispered, though the shaking did not stop.
And without warning, Zariel threw his head back, booming with laughter that bore no resemblance to that of a human laugh, for no human laughter crackled like that of a demon of the Nine Hells.
When he stopped, he took a whiff of the air, unsure where he had landed. Of the Twelve Realms, he could rule out the Abyss, the Hells, and the Eternal Heavens. There would be no hiding, much less fighting, in any of those plains.
Zariel growled, tasting the sensation of mana… no of Arcana. "This plain reminds me of the Realm of Aether, the birthplace of the Arcane Arts. Good. Because if it were Qi of Heaven and Earth, I would have puked again."
A bit unsure of the system they used to cultivate themselves, Zariel was a bit hesitant. It would be no issue to create a new system from scratch, but most methods had been tested for hundreds of thousands of years and later refined by later generations.
He wanted to at least see a basic format of what type of method the denizens of Aether used to help cultivate themselves.
"Well. As long as it's not Qi, I'm fine with anything." He told himself before awkwardly waddling off on his stubby legs. He headed east, or west, maybe north. Unsure of what direction he was heading, feeling the curse of his family coming back to bite him in the ass once more, Zariel mustered a smile for the first time in seven chaos cycles.
Aimlessly wandering through the ashes billowing into the distance like great clouds. Zariel trekked ahead for nearly two days without food or rest. Light-headed from the toxic fumes invading his lungs, burning his eyes until they were bloodshot and swollen. He swayed ahead, pushing past the edges of scorched earth into a dense forest blistering with life.
When a peculiar scent danced across his nose, turning his silvery eyes sharp. 'A dead body,' he thought, following the scent through vines that seemed to coil endlessly through the forest. He pushed back a branch, looking up to the creature that had once been man dangling by a noose as the ravens pecked at their flesh, tearing out a pale white eye.
'Caw!' it crowed.
Around its belly, greenish entrails hung, festering with countless flies that the intestine seemed nearly black.
Zariel frowned. The smell had not bothered him as much as the time he had wasted. "I was hoping they'd have clothes." He said, but the bodies appeared to have been picked clean.
He winced, about to depart, when from the corner of his eye, the glimmer of silver caught his eye in the distance. He stalled midstep, turning towards the figure he couldn't quite make out on top of a tree.
"Hello… Might you have some water?" Zariel asked in a hoarse tone, unsure what language to use. He chose basic. The most common of languages amongst the stars.
The canopies trembled for but a moment. "How'd you see me?" Echoed the stranger above.
A girl? Zariel tilted his head. "I saw something silver."
"Ah! " As if recalling something, the girl yelped.
"Is there a river nearby?" Zariel asked,
"Aurelia can show you!" The girl said, with the rustle from the trees.
'I'd rather you just tell me.' Zariel wanted to say but opted for a kinder repose. "Then I'll thank you," he said, trying to smile but could only manage a crooked grin. He watched the little thing, small and gaunt, with barely any meat on her bones, scurry down a thick vine.
Her face was thin and hollow, as if she hadn't eaten in days, probably weeks. Yet her golden eyes seemed to shine like the glimmer of stars across the vast night skies, a vibrant gold. Meanwhile, her silvery hair seemed matted with knots and dirt, and god knows what types of living creatures it held.
'She seemed homeless,' he thought, glancing down at the rags she wore.
"My name is Aurelia, Aurelia Morningstar," She exclaimed rather pridefully, arching her head high to the skies. "What's yours?"
The boy almost didn't answer, thinking of a spell to cast that might allow him to create water out of modules.
"I don't remember…" He said, throwing some lies with the truth. He could indeed hardly remember his name. Zariel, he knew, and for now, that was enough. He didn't want to remember.
"Then Aurelia will call you Big Brother! Come! Follow me!"She said, scampering off under his silver eyes as he followed.
When they finally arrived before a long river that seemed to travel well beyond the horizon, Zariel hurried into the river, nearly pulled in by the current that came crashing over stone in an upheaval of spring. Waters clear as the crystal lakes of Elysium danced, bathing his face, cleaning it of soot and ash.
"You must've been thirsty," Aurelia exclaimed, bright-eyed, staring curiously at the naked boy, quenching his thirst, and smiled. She had never seen him in the Redwoods before, and she knew everyone within the village.
'I wonder if he'll be my friend?' She wondered.
'... it doesn't burn,' Zariel muttered absently, shaking with a coldness that made his bones weak. He clutched his fist, pushing down the memories that came like a torment of wails through the back of his eyes. He turned, meeting the curious gaze of the young girl a head shorter than he was, practically beaming.
'Do… Do I thank her? That is courtesy, right?'
"Ummm." Unsure how to proceed from here, he saw her tilt her head, beaming away like a bright flower.
"Want to be Aurelia's friend?"
