The Fine Line of Heaven and Hell

A/N: Eh, while I’m looking for a certain Pokemon (yes, I’m still going on about that), I’ve decided to work on another chapter, in which I’ll hopefully complete in time to post not one, but two (and catch up in the process) chapters this coming week. (Meaning what you are reading now is something I wrote around five days ago.) For the record: Don’t judge me. ;) Anyway, I’m actually more focused on the story now than the game, so that’s a good sign. ^.^

Wow. 75 reviews! How awesome! I’ve decided to do all review replies at the end of the chapter…unless I get like, six reviews…Then I’ll split them up a bit.

Chapter 31-On the Wings of Angels
===================
A chilly breeze blew by as they stood before the large, ominous building. The beginnings of the fall season were making themselves known in the big city Shuey had already come to know as her own depiction of Hell. Jerrick stood at her side, Leon trailing a bit further behind. The angel looked uncomfortable being there, though she couldn’t blame him knowing just as well the amount of gore awaiting them inside. She had to find out; had to know what had gone on.

Gathering her strength, she stepped forward, pressing her hand against the door and moving on into the structure. Upon entering, blood spattered and smeared the walls, here and there a body may have lain; did no one know what had gone on? Everything appeared to be in the order her and Leon had left it before. That left her one major question: Where was Cerelia?

The hallways were like scenes from horror novels, and the stench in some of the rooms were nearly unbearable. Though their bodies had healed themselves, once the heart had stopped beating, they simply decayed, no longer functioning naturally. Something inside Shuey ached, and had been since she neared the building. Looking over each corpse, every spatter of blood, she knew they died simply because they got in the way of Brethmel. Would she become like that some day? Able to kill without a second thought, to massacre this amount of people with no remorse? Was to have so much blood on your hands the fate of a golden-eyed demon?

“Shuey,” came a soft, slightly muffled voice behind her. Jerrick held one sleeve of his shirt to his nose, his free hand brushing the small of her back lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just look for what we came for.” That’s right; she was here to find her mother again. One would think having such a dysfunctional family would cause one mental instability, but maybe she’d gotten lucky. Who knew? Maybe one day she would go insane, too.

She paused before the room she had awoken in; it had remained untouched by carnage, the blankets she had been sleeping in still thrown back from where she had sat up. Something was trying to force its way into her mind, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Passing it up after that immediate realization, she found her way to the lounge in which she’d met her mother. Rivet’s crumpled form was still there, Jerrick’s gasp making her realize what she’d never told him. Leon’s arm grabbed hold of Jerrick’s shirt collar, jerking him backwards when he moved forward. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Why would he be here if he hadn’t betrayed us?” The statement made Shuey jump in surprise that the angel was so cool-minded. Thinking back on it, he had stuck his head inside when he arrived to pick her up.

The demon’s hands clenched into fists before dusty grey eyes turned on her. “It’s true?” Someone such as this man placed no value on things like friendship. Was it really something so trivial? It made her wonder if her own friends, few that there was, would do the same to her so many years ahead. Not wanting to confirm something that would hurt the man questioning her, she merely looked at the much frailer-looking one on the floor. His chest had a large gash through it, blue hair turned brown-tainted purple with blood. His lifeless green eyes stared on, a petrifying image of Zeke probably burned into the retinas. “…..It is, isn’t it?” Jerrick seemed less upset than she thought he would have been. Leon looked as though he’d expected this, and it left her rather confused.

The redhead sighed, patting his brotherly friend briefly before tearing the curtains from the wall and draping them over the dead man. “I thought something like this had happened,” he explained, nodding towards the door with the intent of looking elsewhere. Jerrick followed him closely, the pair allowing Shuey to take the lead and explore mostly on her own. They hung back slightly, speaking lowly to one another, which bothered her a bit, but she let it go. It wasn’t her business what they were saying, why should she care?

After a long span of quiet examining of the place, she stumbled upon a door that remained closed. No blood tarnished the ominous structure, only a long, deep gouge near the doorknob. An overwhelming sadness ran through her when her fingers brushed the gold-colored knob, her eyes beginning to water as she turned it and pushed open the door. She couldn’t really understand why she was crying until her eyes landed upon to dust-blue wings nailed to the wall. Blood had dried at the spot they had been torn from their owner’s body, the feathers spattered in contrasting color with the dried liquid.

She wasn’t sure why her body started moving towards it, but by the time her ears processed Leon’s “Shuey, no!” her hand was running through blue feathers, a blast of color blinding her eyes. Her head swam with movement and her body felt as though a jolt of electricity had just run it through. Her wings flared from her shoulder blades, her own blood splashing on her two companions. Her entire being was throbbing with uncontrollable movement. Her mist wrapped around her protectively, not allowing Leon or Jerrick near her. She crouched, holding her pounding head as her wings draped over her tightly. Tired, aching, and confused, she watched as the room around her began to shrink. What had happened?

“Damn it! Why did she do something so stupid!” Jerrick was venting on him, Leon knew, but it was only natural. Shuey had gone through great lengths to research demons, but neither of them could offer her much information on angels. The cherry-haired man had been outcast, he was no longer trusted by the angelic race, thus all information was kept from him. He had known, at least, that a parent’s powers would transfer to their children, if they touched the removed wings. He didn’t realize what had happened in time to stop it, and that left him at fault here. Now Shuey’s powers would be a bit harder to manage. She wouldn’t know how to use her mother’s powers, so it could be hazardous for her to have them before they even knew what they were. Who knew when they could react to something?

The dark-haired man held the Halfling in his arms closely, refusing to leave the room in case the bond of parent and child reacted badly to it. How could Brethmel do this to his own daughter? Skies above, she would suffer with this. Was he trying to handicap her before their inevitable battle? Once he’d seen the tears staining her cheeks, he should have known the wings would be her mother’s. His hand found its way into russet strands damp with sweat. Dark lashes hovered over her cheeks, her brow furrowed even in unconsciousness. “Ngghh..”

The sound made him jerk in surprise, arms wrapping tightly around her in relief. She would be alright, at least. It was a good thing her mother wasn’t someone exceptionally powerful. “Thank the stars, she’s okay,” the angel muttered, stooping to pick up the girl on their way out. “It would be best to leave quickly, right?” The sooner they got back home, the sooner he could take proper care of her. While he still didn’t think they should leave right away, he trailed behind him, mumbling about brutes of angels who wouldn’t let people carry their own lovers.

Bright light surrounded her, she could see it even through her eyelids. Her body was sore all over, her head pulsing at a steady beat. Her wings were out, folded over her chest as though they were shielding her carefully from some unknown threat. The last thing she could remember was touching a pair of nailed angel wings, mysterious tears flowing from her eyes. Steps could be heard, alongside a couple of muffled voices. Both were definitely male, then a female voice snapped at the pair of them. “Hush! She’s waking up, idiots.”

As her eyes slowly opened, feathers brushed one side of her face, and smooth, leathery skin grazed the other. Still aching, she tried to sit up, only to be thwarted by a short, “Don’t move.” The Nevrocrest woman peered down at her, frowning as her vision spun slightly. “Her eyes are slightly dilated. She needs to rest for at least a week before she’ll be back to normal enough to be around and about.” Sharp orange eyes surveyed her carefully, checking her over for anything else that might be wrong. Seeming satisfied, she whipped around to face the two hovering behind her. “You two, we should speak in private.”

When the trio left the room, Shuey felt it was safe to sit up at last. Slowly, her wings unfurled, giving her the room to move into an upright position. She could still hear faint voices if she listened, but at the moment, she didn’t really care about what they had to say. Her vision blurred at times, and her wings seemed to be hypersensitive now. Every little touch could be sensed. Even if something just came close to them she could feel it. Glancing down at her feet, she took notice of her mist curled up in the shape of a fox, staring at her with empty eyes.

The tail twitched before the mist rose, walking towards her until they were nose to nose. Those endless, abyssal eyes seemed to tell her that nothing was wrong; it would be okay. Finally, the three had apparently finished speaking, the blonde entering the room without the pair behind her this time. “You’re very stubborn, aren’t you?” She smiled softly before that small frown reappeared. “I guess you’d have to be to be his mate, wouldn’t you?” Those neon eyes watched her every movement, her training in observation very obvious. If she were a betting woman, she would say the motherly figure was allowing her to see she was being watched.

“….” The woman, Beatrice, if Shuey wasn’t mistaken, sighed as though she understood that the Halfling had no interest in trivial conversation. She sat stiffly in the nearby chair, glowing orbs boring holes into the russet-haired girl’s flesh.

“I don’t know how you survived, and I can’t say that I like the fact that you exist, or that you are sitting in one of my house’s beds. That is to say, Miss Shuey, that I do not like you. You understand this, yes?” If she had taken pride in her intelligence, she would have been insulted. Nodding, the woman offered her a tight smile before going on. “I am, however, honored that Jerrick and Leon chose to trust your care to me, so I will do my best to assist you. Please understand that I am doing this for them, and not for you.” Well, at least she put it bluntly.

After returning her statement with a short nod, the Nevrocrest stood, turning away to gather a few things on a small desk. It looked like files of some sort, but it was too far away to even guess what they said. From her shoulder blades protruded two small grey stubs, possibly the remnants of her wings. She’d been told that this clan tore off their wings as a sign of repenting for something they felt was unforgivable. Seeing that gave Shuey great respect for the woman. “I’ll need to ask you some questions, just to make sure you don’t create unsafe environments for innocent people.”

Sitting back down, the blonde crossed her legs, a clipboard perched on her knee. “Have you ever experienced Rage?” Blinking in confusion, she tilted her head to the side in question. “Your instincts take over and your body reacts without command. It’s a last resort for many golden eye demons, including your father. Extreme emotion can also trigger it, although that is rare. In your case, however, it could be very common.” Absorbing the information, she nodded. “How many times, and what were the circumstances?”

“Once. When Rivet and Cerelia captured me about four days ago.” A fine brow arched in question.

“Four before you returned, or four after you passed out?” Brow furrowing slightly, she shifted a bit before a pale hand reached out to stroke the mist before her. It was cool to the touch, her hand passing right through it, though the faint figure seemed to enjoy it, anyway.

“The latter,” she murmured, frowning when she was told that she’d been out for four days already. That would mean she’d wasted seven days, at least, without becoming any better at anything than before. The lack of production was rather worrying. The fog around her hand flopped on its side as though it wanted her to scratch its stomach, which she found very strange, but obliged it, anyway.

“So that means about….We’ll say seven days, for safe measure. I’m sorry to ask this, but what was happening at the time your Rage was triggered?” Her face flushed slightly, shame building up inside her and quickly making her stomach turn. Could she say it? This woman who was important to Jerrick already though so little of her. Technically, she was not of the Cordon clan, so the Clan Pride didn’t involve her. She doubted the Nevrocrest would attack her, but she would, at least, tell Jerrick what had happened. “I need to know, Shuey. It’s important. If it wasn’t something strenuous, then we might have a problem.”

Eyes dulling slightly, the Halfling nodded. “I was captured and Harux was trying to….. Claim me.” She wasn’t sure if the woman had gotten the meaning behind her words until orange eyes widened and darkened dramatically. She had been right, the blonde was angry with her. Her mouth formed into a set line before she stood quickly, moving closer at an alarming rate and making Shuey flinch. She blinked in surprise when bizarrely strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. Hadn’t this woman already said that she didn’t like her even existing?

“No one should have to endure that. I apologize that you had to say it, and I’m sorry, but I have more questions.” Still stunned at the softer side of the butch female, the Halfling answered each question as neutrally as possible. Towards the end of the conversation, Nevrocrest smiled at her, assuring her that her secret was safe with her. Before she left, she reminded Shuey that just because she would be gone, that didn’t mean she didn’t have to rest.

Finally, Jerrick and Leon came through the door as quickly as possible without rushing. “Are you okay?” was the first thing out of the demon’s mouth, grey eyes widening in surprise when the angel thumped him on the head and berated him for asking stupid questions. “How are you feeling?” was the new inquiry, also returned with a slap to the head.

“What happened?” was Leon’s query, returned with a scowl from Jerrick. Frowning when he got no reply, the redhead crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her for some time. “I don’t think Cerelia is dead. I think that Brethmel used you to give her a fate worse than death. I’m pretty sure he knew you would come back, so he cut off her wings and nailed them to the wall for you to touch. You stripped your mother of her powers for him. An angel who looses their powers usually winds up going insane because they can feel their body dying. Every second, it dies a little more….. The General is a cruel man.”

They spoke for a while, leaving with a reminder that they would leave for the inn the following morning. Thinking over the whirlwind of things that had happened, she hoped that maybe she had a normal, uneventful day coming to her.

Maybe.


A/N: Well, I have plans with the kids tomorrow, so I won’t be able to finish up the next chapter. I might post it sometime during the following week, but that’s only if work isn’t kicking my ass some more. You wouldn’t think my job would be so strenuous, but it is. I had an email from one of my non-reviewing readers (which makes me sad) and she asked where I got the idea for Shuey to be a bartender. Well, my friend Kris is a bartender! He’s the guy I modeled Leon off of, only Leon’s slightly less full of himself. Okay, Leon is much more toned down that Kris is, and he’s not swearing every sentence like Kris does, either…. So they really aren’t much alike, but that’s how it goes.

As crazy as it seems, Jerrick was somewhat based off of a friend, too. My friend Jason, whom I’ve already spoken of once. Well, not really….. Just the whole….frightening smile thing. Sometimes his smiles seriously creep me out. Anyway, on to the review replies. *grin*


Alicat: You’ll find out further towards the end, I’m sure. If not, I’ll tell you at the end. O.o I promise, just remind me. I’m pretty sure I have weaned myself well enough away from Pokemon. My newest addiction is DDR while playing Pokemon. Believe it or not, on easy, I can do it sometimes. *blink* Yes, I know it’s weird.

Snidne: I really adore you sometimes. *chuckles* And if you are President, what does that make me? I feel so left out now. *pouts* Anyway, thank you for your compliments… at least I’m pretty sure they were all complimentary…. Eh, I could be wrong, I got a little confused at some point as far as your opinion on it goes. *shrug* That’s okay, though… I do have a feeling that your feeling may be very close to truth. *winks*


As per usual: Thanks for reading. ^.^