He Who Would be Master 12 (Angel's Eyes)

Story by Kaard on SoFurry

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#13 of Spirit Lord Chronicles...

An severe faux pas, I forgot a chap ~w~"

Here it is! :D


"It's time for me to know," Angel was saying, almost serenely lying in his hospital bed, watching the eldest Montague son. The twenty-three year old absently rubbed his left shoulder. He only had one arm. His left was lost, and ended as a stump about half way to his elbow. The left sleeve of his denim shirt hung at his side like a windsock.

"Yes, Mr. Callahan," He said somberly, "It is..." He sat near the bed. "Our city, Fortuna, is thirty-two flavors of fucked..." He stood up and opened the blinds, showing the first snowfall of the year. He walked a bit awkwardly from one side of the window to the other, scanning.

Angel continued. "And my..." He wasn't sure what to call him, now... not even his multiple names seemed to fit, "_He_is supposed to be fixing it?"

"Well, not by himself," Mac Beth sat, back down, "There are others. The problems are being tackled on several different fronts."

Angel regretted asking; couldn't have cared less about these others. "What... Is he?"

"No word you'd know is appropriate," Mac said.

"Is he a God?" He had to whisper it, knowing he sounded gullible.

"He was, once," he answered coolly. "Small g, of course. He was just a spirit. One of war, one of love, but mostly, he's a god of sex between men."

"War, love, and sex?" Angel remembered the quiet, reclusive boy he grew up with. It didn't seem possible. "Could he be possessed by this Kaard thing?"

"No," Mac said, "Possession is an infection of the soul that slowly consumes it. Some forms are more invasive than others. Yours is pretty bad."

Angel touched his chest. "But Kaard ripped mine out..." I'm going to die and the stupid thing didn't even WORK?

"No, it worked, but a second spirit has found its way to you, to that shame you feel, and this second one was relatively insulated from the blast..."

Angel grit his teeth, gnawing up hopelessness, before it could manifest as tears. "Can't you help me?" He looked up at Mac, trying to scowl. "You, with all your power, and your creepy bullshit. Can't you help?!"

"No."

"Why the fuck not?" Angel spoke purely out of frustration.

"The power to do so simply doesn't exist here," Mac said, as serious as if she had just diagnosed a cancer. "Even if it did, I'm not like Othello."

Angel didn't even try to make sense of that. "So if he's not possessed, what is he. Ames said something once, about his soul being an egg?"

"Right," Mac nodded, seemingly glad for a reference to work with, "The egg has hatched, and the being you called Othello is now complete."

Norn reached out and opened the lime jello cup. She passed it to him before he knew he wanted it. She had come in with Mac, and Angel had forgotten she was there. She hadn't moved, contented to watch the exchange.

He gingerly spooned out a dollop and slurped it up. "It's not as good..." He remarked.

"A side effect," Norn said dismissively, "With one exception, nothing is going to be as good or as bad as you remembered."

"What's the exception?" It was sad that the jello wasn't good anymore, but he continued eating, having no reason not to.

"Before you lose all feeling, you'll develop an obsession. This is the soul trying to retain emotion by focusing it all on one thing," Norn said.

Angel hardly listened. "Where's Kaard now?"

Mac and Norn were silent for long enough for Angel to finish his treat. "... He's in training," Norn finally said, "I can't tell you anymore than that."

"How'd you lose your arm?" Angel looked at his meatloaf... it looked grayer than it had an hour ago, when the nurse dropped off... in fact, everything was growing dull. Mac's dark skin, Norn's red lipstick... It just wasn't worth noticing these details anymore. He was almost glad of the reduced distraction...

Mac only watched Angel. "You don't actually care, do you?"

Care? Angel didn't even care enough to answer that question. Asking simply filled the silence that covered everything. So he asked another: "Was it those hand-shaped spirits do it?"

Mac stood a little straighter at that. "You can see Lefty?"

"I can see them all, now.... if I unfocus my eyes real hard.... I can't see real clear though," Angel said, more to himself. "Is this how He sees things? No one can live like this..."

"He sees Them clearly. He has to 'unfocus' to see the rest of the world," Norn said. "Come. Eat more, little love." She scooped up mash potatoes and held the spoon to his mouth. Angel ate and gave a miserable groan at how bland the butter was. Still, he took the spoon and ate some more.

"Are you mad at him?" Mac muttered.

"I can't get mad, remember?" Angel sighed, putting down his spoon now that the potatoes were gone. "But I must be, because when I think about him, the whole world gets... blander."

Mac nodded. "You know it was an accident, though."

Angel looked down at his plate: string beans, meatloaf and apple juice... They probably wouldn't leave until he finished his cold meal.... Dammit....

He picked up the fork and stabbed into the ground meat. "How did you lose your arm, Mac Beth?"

"Is that an answer to my question?" It didn't carry the demand He would have put in it...

"Was it an accident?" Angel asked, ignoring Mac. "Does it matter whether it was an accident?"

Mac held his stump in a shaking right hand. "I didn't think it mattered... but it does, boy. It matters."

Angel glanced around. At the moment Mac said boy, the world flickered a little brighter. It faded again just as quickly though. He ate a bite of meatloaf. "No. It doesn't," He said after swallowing. "But, that isn't the reason I'm going to leave him alone. He's bad for me. I see that now." He started shoveling in his food. As he did, the numbness gave way to a deep sadness. The kind that only comes from the knowledge of never seeing a loved one again. The kind that comes after someone reveals how imperfect they really are. No. It wasn't His fault, but Angel still had to stay away...

"Who was that guy...?" Angel pushed his empty plate away.

"Who?" Norn and Mac looked at each other.

"Wax wings, flew at the sun... y'know," Angel decided he really should read more.

"Icarus," Mac said.

"Yeah... I'm like that..." Angel smiled even as his tears finally fought their way free. He laugh/cried himself to sleep, with the others watching him.

* * *

"The sun is hot, no?"

"He is..." Angel answered. He stared up into it, letting it white out his vision. It hurt... Hurt was good...

"He shines brightly now," the voice said. "But he can shine brighter."

"How do you know?" Angel asked. "Why would you want him to?"

"To sustain us, of course. That is what a sun does, no?"

"I guess..."

"I will go to him soon," The voice said softly.

"Won't you burn?" Angel snorted. "I did, after all..."

"I will not burn," The voice said, "Because I am of him, like him. I will shine with him, not burn."

The speaker spread golden wings, and with a balmy gust, lifted into the air.

"Wait!" Angel shouted. "Who are you!?"

"The Master has called me Eden," The speaker said with a chuckle. "Goodbye to you, Angel-His! I will serve him well, in your place." Angel felt the ghosts of jealousy waft away in Eden's wake. Eden... Yes. Eden could be hated.

_ * * * _

Angel sat bolt upright, envy rousting him from his sleep.

"Oh! Angel, you're awake!"

He turned about wildly before his eyes landed on his mother. "Mom...?" Angel blinked. "It'd felt like ages since he'd seen her. "What are you doing here...?"

"Oh. Baby!" Her eyes shone wetly as she gave a chuckle. "You're in the hospital. Of course I came to see you. Every day that I could." Her hand wrapped wearily around his and squeezed. Angel gave everything to feeling her warmth. It was harder to do than he'd expected, but it still managed to brighten a world that had grown grayer still during the night.

The dullness washed back in as they parted. "Mister Callahan?"

"He couldn't make it..." She looked away. The bastard does nothing but congeal on the couch - Another word He'd use - and yet the man can't get off his ass to see his eldest laid up? More color bled from the world. "Never mind him, Angel," she combed back his now-wild mane of curls. "Tell me what happened. The cops don't know and your... You're friend's run off to avoid questioning... Are you in trouble?"

"No, mom," Angel laughed. He had no idea that his relationship with Him looked shady to folks outside of it. It was hilarious... More so when he realized that they had no idea at all how shady it actually was. "No, he... ah, he got me out of it."

It wasn't a lie, to be exact. It had just taken Angel getting hurt to finally chase him away. He just wasn't sure it was too late. He squinted his eyes and looked around the at the creatures' bleary, tiny shapes, flitting to stay just on the edges of his vision. His gaze slid over his mother and the sight of her chilled him:

Superimposed of her regular form, his mother appeared as little more than a busted mannequin. She wept opalescent gems that shattered wetly on the floor. Her lower jaw was missing, leaving her face the picture of howling despair. A crystalline spike jutted from the base of her neck, keeping the imposed image of her bowed.

Angel gulped, but raised his mother's chin. "Fight him, mom..."

Both the mother he knew and her mirage withdrew from his touch. "It's too late for that, sweetie..." The mirage wailed in a soft, far away voice and a cascade of crystal tears flowed from its eyes. Then the image faded and his mother went as gray as the rest of the world.

She spoke to him for awhile longer, but Angel couldn't hold his attention on her anymore. Instead, he found his thoughts returning to that Person.

* * *

"Well?" Jason Callahan, as well as the Rage, demanded of his woman.

"He's..." Emma shook her head. "Something is wrong with him. Drugs, I think... The doctors say it's some kind of induced dementia... like... adolescent Alzheimer...

_"The Seed has been destroyed. You can no longer lay root!!"_Shame wailed.

Rage gave a roar and began looking for something to smash. When he drew looks from orderlies and nurses, he withdrew a bit from his host. He'd save it for Shame later. "Then he is USELESS to us!!"

Emma fell into her husband's arms and sobbed. "Not entirely,"_Shame mollified. _"My Seed is strong, and growing."

"Then there is hope... You may yet survive..."

* * *

They came to him again that night, well after lights out.

"Eat," Mac insisted.

Angel glanced up at him, having almost successfully forgotten he was there. He snorted his dismay and stabbed at his salmon. "It all sucks..."

"You haven't eaten all day," Mac said gently. "You have to get strong. Strong enough to find him."

Angel felt the stirrings of... something.... Need. Yes... He ate a bite.

"You do want to see him then," Norn said.

"Duh," Angel chewed loudly. "I already told you though, that I can't."

"How else will he take responsibility for what he's done?" Norn pressed. Angel ate some broccoli.

"You want me to find him..." Angel slowed his chewing. "Why?"

"Because no Ruler gets to flee his chosen responsibility," Norn answered.

* * *

So this is Master's "Angel"? Eden murmured to itself. Since meeting him, Bonding with him, the Master had yet to call upon Eden and put it to use. Left with nothing to do, and unwanting to mess with the machinations He surely had in play, Eden simply surveyed the things most strongly touched be Him. With the Master's abode no more, and his Flesh-Kin no longer reachable, that just left this pathetic, broken mortal.

Why would the Master invest so much time and Akasha into a soul, just to break it and leave it rot? Such a waste, when a soul so willing could be easily consumed...

Eden kicked away from the resting place of the mortals' metallic constructs, grasped two wing-fulls of Air-Akasha, grasping tight to the spirits of the air which stiffened grudgingly under its grasp, and proceeded to slice through them buoying it from the building and towards the brick wall. The Akasha within the bricks wasn't meant to keep things such as him out, and the building had no arcane defenses whatsoever. Passing through the wall was absolutely nothing to the Helion.

It touched down on the cold, soulless floor and hovered over the tiny mortal, peering at his broken, half-possessed soul.

The mortal rolled eyes around the room, the Shame-seed reacting to Eden's purifying presence.

Back again?" he growled, almost to himself. "What the hell are you?" Master's Angel muttered aloud.

Eden didn't answer right away. It could have been a fluke. Human perception of the spirits comes and goes like a breeze, after all.

"I don't care what you are," the Angel said after a time. "So get out, and leave me be."

Eden blinked. The mortal was certainly speaking to it. Humans can't understand Babel after they begin growing teeth, so when it answered, it spoke directly to the Shame jutting from his back.

_ "I belong to the Master." _

A bit of color flushed into the dim, wounded soul, only to be sucked away into the gruesome wound left be that same Master. The mortal straightened. "What... What the fuck does THAT mean?" He grunted. "I thought you all just wanted to eat him... or whatever you do...."

_ "Perhaps... But I was too weak to attempt, and now that I'm bound to him, such a thing is impossible for me." _

The mortal snorted, angrily. "But you would, if you could?"

_ "Of course. And I may yet, should my own Power surpass his. It is our way," _ Eden stated, as if to a sprite. _ "Mine, and His." _

The soul suddenly gushed a spectral gore. Hemorrhaging rage that bled impotently into nothingness. "Stay away from him."

The image made Eden queasy, but it wasn't in it to show such a thing. It hopped up onto a chair to avoid getting in of the caustic rage on its talons before it could dissipate. _ "I will not." _

"I swear to GOD," the mortal said, using up the last of his mustered anger, "I'll end you before you get that chance..." The soul went dim again and the mortal's eyes fluttered shut.

_ "Not likely, wretch." _ Eden sighed wistfully. Poor thing is... is.... The spirit reached more into part of it that was connected to the mortal godling. "Fucked", I believe is the term...

That was when madness; pain and fury gripped its core. Sex of the angriest sort seared through it, then stuck, blistering its mind, made bitter only by the overwhelming agony that tainted it. Eden knew this flavor. It was Master! The pain was his too. Something happened! More importantly; MASTER IS CALLING HIM!!

Eden shrieked in wrath and elation, and, all but discorporating, streaked through the night to answer HIS call.