Page 56 of Fallen: Darkness Ascending, Vol.1

“Damage?!” She swept her arm out toward Oros. “You said yourself, he was welcome!”

Mazdek sighed. “I did not mean to imply your creations never achieve noble goals, depending on what motivates them. Only that few souls on this world were meant to evade death without completely remaking themselves as you do. By that nature, they will always lack the guidance of their creator.”

“They do not need me to tell them how to live,” she insisted. “ That’s the purview of the Heavens and the Hells!”

“Or, on Miurag, preferably neither.”

Her chin jutted out. “Agreed.”

Oros’s mouth sagged, wrapping his arms around himself as they argued. She didn’t notice.

What has she done to me?

Mazdek blinked his eye at her. “Will you seek Io’sulta now? Take your daughter with you.”

Uradri nodded. “I will banish the demon in V’Gedra first.”

“ No .” The steep, rocky hill shook beneath their feet. “Leave the Handmaiden where she is. Do not interfere.”

“Interfere?” Her feathers ruffled. “Am I to take it this is part of a plan?”

“Mitigating damage. Do not cause more. Let it play out.”

“They are my children ,” she growled through bared teeth. “I know better than most what the Abyss will do to them. I’ve seen it in other realms!”

His eye fixed on her. “Then, as your children, let them grow and find their strength in this fight. As you once did. ”

Obstinance plain on her face, she did not verbally deny him.

“Do not take this as a threat,” the Dragon added, “but the Ice Lord has already been mapping the demon’s moves. I guarantee you will encounter each other if you go to V’Gedra.”

Oros did not like the motes of light which sparkled in her eyes.

“Message received, Sargt,” she replied, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “I presume your arena grows too painful to hold?”

He sighed, this time in resignation. “Correct.”

“Then we shall bid you farewell, Desert Guardian. Come, Oros. Let us awaken.”

The Wilder took a last look at the molten gold of the giant serpent’s eye. The Dragon peered back.

*May there be a path, Oros,* he shared in silence. *Be always welcome in my Dreams and my Desert.*

Oros could think only of his destination while in the sky. Upon new black wings, recent events blurred and stretched, voices and conversations faded behind him, trying in vain to catch up. Only when he landed did his own thoughts return to him.

Fortunately, Uradri’s newborn needed him to land more than he might have otherwise. She needed water, comfort, and rest. Landing for her, responding to her distress, gave him plenty of time to think.

To stubbornly remember what she’d taken from him.

Until the baby cried.

“Shh, shh,” he hushed, rocking her before encouraging her to suck on a peeled cactus wedge for moisture. “We’ll be okay. It will work out somehow.”

The single, night-long feeding from her mother’s breast was, according to her, enough to sustain the baby until he got to where he was going.

She is not an Elf, he reminded himself. None of them are.

And what about him? Oros wasn’t sure anymore.

The Wilder stopped three times on the first day without leaving the sea of dunes and networks of canyons. He lingered among them, foraging for himself and the pale, red-headed baby, who gummed and sucked on anything he would eat, provided he chewed it up for her.

Her tender skin did not burn in the sun despite the lack of a full wrap. For some strange reason, her weight did not become a burden in his arms.

Uradri never gave her a name.

Passing over the colorful cliffs of Koorul, something drew his attention to an upper mesa. At first, he saw a Davrin with long white hair and a dark face, wearing the garb of a traveling merchant.

The Wilder got closer, and the Dark Elf waved him down with certainty that the approaching flyer could understand the gesture. It surprised and unsettled him.

Plainly not good for his mission.

Oros banked north without acknowledging the figure, intending to soar away at speed, when he…

Felt something. A warning along every nerve.

Shit.

The winged Elf turned again, circling high above the figure. His vision cleared, and the other Elf changed before his eyes.

Black skin brightened to become reddish-brown like his own. The white hair filled in with a brilliant auburn. Oros blinked and, suddenly, the Elf had red wings. Featherless, like a bat or a Dragon. An aura flared up, powerful enough to knock Oros out of the sky.

No…

The Wilder descended sharply, choosing to land on the opposite cliff rather than risking a mage attack .

“Alright, alright, I’m down!” he called across the chasm. “Do not attack, I’m protecting a baby. What do you want?”

The ominous figure didn’t reply before disappearing like a mirage.

What—?

On his left, a shocking pulse of frigid air, and there stood the stranger. Oros jumped to one side, his wings arching up and forward like a shield as the infant shrieked.

The other winged Elf stood with poise, tilting his horned head as if curious about this response. “Stand down, defender. I’m not here to hurt either of you.”

Truth.

“I don’t see many flying Elves, but the lands around Koorul produce many strange sights.”

Partial truth…

“My name is Toushek, and I have roamed the Desert a long time.”

Lie? Oros squinted, uncertain.

Blank eyes like Uradri’s came into sharp focus, a stark shade of ivory matching his horns. When he smiled, fangs threatened. “Relax. It’s fortunate happenstance that we should meet.”

Lie.

Oros struggled to force a single thought past a breathtaking suggestion: that he does not question anything he saw.

“Indrath?” he asked. “The Ice Lord.”

The vast gaze widened with clear surprise before a dry smile slid into place.

“She gave you true sight,” the Infernal Elf chuckled in annoyed resignation. “Well. At least she handed that child to one less reckless than herself.”

A subtle pressure lifted, and Oros could see his full appearance without straining.

A crown of horns, not just two, rose above his long hair.

Bare to the waist, his leathery wings displayed proudly, with a heavy, leather sarong of dark brown covering his legs.

Every sway and motion suggested power which did not rely upon brute force.

“You are my ancestor,” said the Wilder, catching his breath. “And I protect your daughter.”

Indrath’s mocking smile faded. He observed as gentle, secure arms soothed his infant, helping her believe they were safe, even though Oros wasn’t certain of that at all.

The Infernal asked, “Where are you headed?”

A hard ball of sorrow formed deep in the Wilder’s throat. “Leaving the Red Desert.”

“Do you know the name of your destination?”

“Not the name. I know it exists.”

“Hm. But you’d rather not leave home.”

Oros’s vision blurred. His jaw tightened.

Indrath grinned with deeply unsettling satisfaction. “You’re fighting her. She must not have given you exactly what you wanted, or she underestimated you.”

“What I wanted?”

“Indeed. What do you want?”

To see my tribe again…

“To not be burdened with a child not of your blood?”

Oros backed up when Indrath stepped closer, raising wings in defense. “She’s not a burden. I would never leave an infant alone if she had no one else.”

“You don’t sound surprised her mother abandoned her as soon as she slipped out of the womb.”

“I know who her mother is. And this choice is not unknown among my tribe.”

“ Tch . Choice.”

The Infernal circled him, his steps silent and hidden beneath the sarong. Oros tightened his arms as he turned to keep the Infernal in view.

“Sometimes the bearer can’t stay still,” said the Wilder. “It’s not their path. Or tragedy strikes. We always had hands ready to help.”

“Good for you. And yet, this isn’t what you want.” The Ice Lord tilted one ear skyward. “Can you hand her to me? You would be free to return to your family.”

Oros held the baby close and swallowed a sob.

“I will take that as a ‘no.’” Indrath stopped pacing. He showed fangs in another disturbing smile. “Would you die for my daughter?”

The Wilder frowned. “I could be killed.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. You have some curious defenses.”

Indrath reached out with his claws. The very air between them crackled as their auras overlapped the barest bit. Oros shivered, feeling the chill of deep shadow only an instant before the light broke through to warm his back.

“Would you try to kill me ,” the Infernal continued, “even knowing I’d never harm her?”

“No. I would escape.” The Wilder stepped back. “With her.”

Cool pity touched the Ice Lord’s face. “Oh, grandson. How unfortunate to see you like this, but she is not called the ‘maneater’ for nothing. You’re far from the first I’ve tracked down, wandering with vague purpose when she’s not around to sway their desires.”

“My purpose is clear.”

“Only at the start. It’s always a long wait, with no assurances she’ll remember or care what you’ve done in her name.” Indrath offered a sinister smirk when he saw the barb land. “She’s already lost interest, hasn’t she?”

Bleak despair threatened with hooks sharp enough to tear the wild Elf’s spirit. He thought of his hunting pack instead, breathed deeply, yet he also had to admit it.

Mazdek said something similar. Something about completely remaking herself…

The Ice Lord’s expression changed abruptly, the smugness evaporating, his gaze sharp as a dagger. “You spoke with Mazdek the Flame recently?”

Oros blinked, patting the child’s back as she started mouthing his shoulder. “You’re listening to my thoughts?”

“You’ve been very loud. Where did you meet Mazdek? ”

“In a dream. The night your daughter was born.”

“No, where in that dream?”

“Um. In his valley? There was a rock spire with stairs and windows. It looked like it was damaged in a battle.”

Indrath looked oddly relieved.

“The Dragon said he’s negotiated with you before,” the Wilder added.