[The Celestial Wars] Chapter 1.20

As Belial paraded his new pet through the Well’s levels, many complimented him on it. A few of his sons asked after the creature’s origins, mainly because like Sarvalis, they too wanted one of the regal creatures for themselves.

Celestial strength, something that couldn’t be shapeshifted into existence, oozed from every pore of the strange reptilian that walked at Belial’s side. What none of them realised was that the sense of power came from ruling one of the largest realms in existence. Belial offered them no explanation and waved them off, but he had no doubt they would start scouring the Known Realms for the two-headed reptilian species anyway.

By the time Belial reached Clarise’s level, word had spread of the new pet and the Highborn Hellions virtually (and in some cases literally) poured out of the cavern walls to see what the fuss was about. Belial indulged his inquisitive family, keeping his expression neutral as his son-by-marriage snapped both sets of jaws and swung his twin tails aggressively at every Highborn Hellion Lord who dared to assume he was tame. Spikes and teeth penetrated all manner of hands, causing his sons and other male descendants to yelp and hiss in surprise as they wrenched their limbs free of the reptilian’s grip.

That was to be expected. The men should have known better than to reach for what they didn’t know, but what impressed Belial was the way his son-by-marriage willingly endured the loathsome petting and pampering of the Highborn Ladies without complaint. It was good to see he’d learned the difference.

In Mystal there was no protective distinction between the sexes, but if Avis had harmed any of the Ladies the way he snapped at the Lords, Belial would have reacted accordingly and all of Hell would have known the identity of his so-called pet.

Though it wasn’t Avis’s humiliation that amused the supreme demon the most at this juncture. In fact, the Mystallian would’ve been surprised to learn just who was the source of his entertainment during this whole façade. The boy was merely the means; his indignation barely a by-product.

Torturing him like this was tantamount to ripping off the limbs of one of the Damned. Not exactly gratifying. But as he watched his son-by-marriage duck and weave around the women who gushed at him from all sides, Belial knew surprised would be much too mild a word for his son-by-marriage’s reaction to their observer. Petrified would go closer.

Ever since Belial took what was left of Avis to The Walk hours ago, the supreme demon had been entertained by the non-stop verbal abuse of the one being that Avis and his siblings hoped to never cross paths with again.

… GET THOSE FUCKING SLUTS AWAY FROM MY FUCKING BOY, YOU HORN-HEADED, MOTHER-FUCKING SHAPE-SHIFTING PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT, OR BY FUCK I’LL FUCKING FUCK UP EVERY LAST FUCKING ONE—!

The words charged relentlessly through the realms, though only Belial could hear them. He could see the source of those words too, if he bothered to look.

He didn’t.

Your boy has been condemned to the Nine Levels for the last two years, Theodrick. Did you not notice? Every level. Every sublevel. And oh, how I have made him suffer …

YOU MOTHER-FUCKING ASSHOLE!

Belial’s demonic lips parted with trace amusement. Sticks and stones won’t break my bones, and you can’t do it either.

The fact that he was using contractions in this one instance was a compromise Belial was prepared to make, given the amount of personal satisfaction it garnered from his mind-bending counterpart.

The ancient tune of condescension aimed solely at Theodrick was one which The Bender made his personal mission to eradicate across the realms. So of course, Belial had it ingrained into every mortal and celestial culture everywhere. Theodrick despised the way it reminded him of Belial’s invulnerability to him and as always, he exploded in toe-curling expletives the moment it began …

… and Belial loved every minute of it.

Theoretically, they were both far too old for such childishness, but very little entertained the Shifter as much as watching the supposed supreme Lord of Order lose his mind over every little thing that went beyond his control. The immaturity of the tune only added to the insulting words. Theodrick’s legendary vile temper had carried it to a point where Belial only had to hum the first few bars and the Bender would still explode.

Now was no exception. Theodrick crammed so much profanity into his sentences that they were no longer coherent.

Then, without warning, the cursing suddenly stopped. Dead. For the first time in hours.

Belial glanced at the ghostly image that shimmered a short distance from him. Theodrick’s face was still bright red and dark purple with vein popping fury, but he’d pulled back against his throne and a dangerously evil sheen coloured his dark eyes.

PUT … MY FUCKING SON … BACK THE WAY HE WAS … OR KISS YOUR OWN MOTHER-FUCKING FIRSTBORN BASTARD GOODBYE. He leaned one elbow into the arm of his throne. TRY. ME.

Belial wasn’t laughing now. For all his bluster, the Bender didn’t have the creativity to bluff and Uriel’s mind was now in his counterpart’s sights. Sobering instantly, Belial’s own gaze narrowed at the ominous threat. You have no power over Uriel.

Smug confidence replaced Theodrick’s rage, putting Belial on notice of what was to come.

AS USUAL, YOU FUCKING OVERESTIMATE YOURSELF, SHIFTER. WE MAY NOT BE FUCKING ABLE TO SCREW WITH EACH OTHER’S PERSONAL FUCKING REALMS NOR THE COWARDLY ASSHOLES WHO HIDE WITHIN THEM LIKE SPINELESS FUCKING CHICKEN-SHITS …

The Bender curled his lips into a vicious sneer that implied Belial was the greatest imbecile in existence for keeping so many of his offspring within the protective boundary of Chaos.

BUT LAST TIME I FUCKING CHECKED, THAT FUCKWIT URINAL OF YOURS DOESN’T EXACTLY KEEP HIS FUCKING ASS GLUED TO CHAOS, DOES HE?

Belial refused to acknowledge the multiple invectives that had been cast at his eldest son. Almost as long as he’d been using the childish tune to aggravate Theodrick, the Bender had used Uriel’s modified name and supposed sexual orientation to provoke the Shifter. And, with all due credit to the stagnant fool who never adapted to anything, it had worked in the beginning. But Belial quickly realised the best defence to any slur from Theodrick was to pretend it didn’t bother him in the least. Flip it back on to Theodrick, because the Bender knew it did … and it ate him alive to know he could never prove it!

My son is established, just as yours is. So long as he is inside either Heaven or Chaos, your destruction of his mind will only last as long as you are focused on him.

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, SHIFTER! YOU’RE NOT SO FUCKED IN THE FUCKING HEAD TO THINK YHWH DOESN’T FUCKING SEND HIM THE FUCK OUTTA HEAVEN ON A FUCK TONNE OF VENGEANCE FUCKING MISSIONS! I’LL HAVE ALL THE REALM-DAMNED FUCKING TIME I WANT TO FUCK HIM THE FUCK UP.

This was getting out of hand. Neither of them could risk things escalating to that point, but only one of them had a clear enough head to prevent it. Your son wanted this, Theodrick. If you doubt that, look into his memories and see for yourself. He. Came. To. Me.

Belial waited for Theodrick to do just that. It didn’t take long. YOU GUTLESS MOTHER-FUCKING SACK OF FUCKING SHIT! YOU COULD HAVE FUCKING HEALED HIM WITHOUT FUCKING MAKING HIM WALK THAT MOTHER-FUCKING BULLSHIT OF A PRETENTIOUS FUCKING WALK THAT DOESN’T FUCKING DO SHIT!

Belial didn’t deny it. That was not what he asked for. The Shifter kept his face unreadable as he tugged at Avis’ leash, using his influence over the realm to disperse his family and clear the level around him. As usual, they were none the wiser to his manipulations and it gave him the privacy he needed to return Avis to Clarise’s quarters unnoticed. As they approached the double doors to the bedroom, the wall of Highborn Hellion Guards parted and dipped their heads in uniformed reverence.

Belial walked Avis into the bedroom and tapped his ancient power to close the doors behind him without touching them or looking at them. Then he dropped the leash, dissolving it and the chokers into harmless smoke that wafted away from his son-by-marriage’s reptilian necks.

Avis immediately launched himself over the bed and pushed himself against the far wall beside Clarise’s bedside table, curling all his lips to show row after row of razor sharp teeth in disgust.

I’M FUCKING WARNING YOU, SHIFTER. FUCKING PUT HIM THE FUCK BACK RIGHT FUCKING NOW, OR OUR FUCKING NEUTRALITY AGREEMENT IS ANCIENT FUCKING HISTORY!

Belial drew in a deep breath and released it in a smoky sigh. As entertaining as it would be to watch you try and do anything from that side of the table, I have my own reasons for moving this along.

The main one being he didn’t want to butt heads with Theodrick over who could do what to the other’s son. Nothing would survive that war. Literally … nothing. So, the eight legs of the reptilian merged into an upper set of arms and a lower pair of legs and the two heads folded back into one. Impenetrable leather hide gave way to a combination of soft pale flesh, dark hair and the black Mystallian uniform.

The transformation was gradual, to give Avis time to regain his bearings. The boy was not a shifter after all and changing perceptions and other sensory inputs could potentially send a non-shifter mad. Belial glanced at the impatience that practically resonated from the Bender in waves and smiled inwardly.

At least, that was one of the reasons he took so long.

* * *

After what felt like an eternity of irate silence on Clarise’s part, Beelzebub did that strange head tilt which she had come to know was a sign that her father was communicating with him when they weren’t in the same room. He bobbed his head once after a few seconds, just as he had the last time.

Clarise gave him her full attention for the first time in almost an hour with her hands on her hips and her booted feet shoulder-width apart. “Well?” she demanded, icily.

Without breaking eye contact, Beelzebub dipped his head in her direction. “You are now free to return to your husband, Milady.”

Clarise wasted no time. Her hand was in the air gesturing and she immediately called to Avis, refusing to acknowledge the demonic commander who’d held her prisoner for another moment. Her heart cartwheeled as Avis’ image appeared between them and she smiled in relief that he seemed to be relatively unharmed. That was, until she saw her father in the background and she gasped in fear for her husband. Belial had made no secret of his hatred for Avis and fearing the worst, she thrust out both her hands to her husband, determined to insert herself between them if she had to.

It seemed Avis was just as impatient to have her back in his arms. Without further prompting, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her to him in a jerk that had her colliding with his chest in a light thump. His arms snaked around her upper torso, banding her to him while Clarise knotted her fingers behind his neck and pressed her ear to his chest to hear the steady beat of his heart through the doublet. Sure … sound … solid … if a little elevated.

“Are you alright?” he asked, about half a second before she could.

Clarise snorted as she looked up at him, relief causing her eyes to water. “I am now,” she replied. Unknotting her fingers, she gripped the back of his head and pulled it down to kiss him, if only to convince herself of his presence. “I was so scared for you before.”

Avis groaned and kissed her again. Deeply. Passionately. As if to drive away every fear she’d had for him. “I’m fine,” he promised, after he broke away. “Your father was just … giving me a hand to wrap up a few loose ends—my choice,” he quickly added when she stiffened and sucked in a tight breath that hissed against her teeth. He stroked her back to comfort her and lifted his head to glance over his shoulder at Belial, who was standing between the bed and the double doors. “Well, sort of,” he added bitterly.

Clarise shifted her gaze between the two, desperately wanting to understand the undercurrents of that statement. Technically, there was still no deception. At least, not from Avis. Her father had yet to speak, not that she would know either way where he was concerned. Still snuggled against Avis’ chest, she looked at her father and asked, “Why did you have the room surrounded by Highborn Hellion Guard?”

Belial returned that scrutiny. He seemed to be taking the measure of her, dressed as she was and cocooned happily in her husband’s protective embrace. His brow ridges merged thoughtfully, and when he finally spoke, it wasn’t to answer her question. “Avis has made a full recovery and his welcome in Hell has expired. Prepare your family, Clarise, for tomorrow those of you going with him will also be departing.” And then he was gone with the same phenomenal speed as Beelzebub, leaving the two alone.

Clarise was too overwhelmed by the day’s events to give the finality of his words a second thought. Both delighted and relieved to be reunited with her beloved husband, she gave him a tight squeeze, then pushed herself out to arms’ length without releasing his elbows to run a critical eye over him. “Tell me everything,” she insisted, turning her attention to the room for any hint of disturbance when he himself appeared to be fine. “What happened here?”

“Cora’s a Mystallian.”

“I know this …”

She hadn’t realised she’d spoken until she felt the pressure of his finger against her lips. When she looked up at him in surprise, he was smiling down at her warmly. That smile grew until he bent down and lightly kissed her lips. “I know you do, sweetheart, but what I meant was—we of Mystal deal with things very differently to Highborn Hellions.” He used the closeness to manoeuvre her back into his arms, something which Clarise didn’t mind in the least. “And I didn’t want to upset you with the way I handled Cora.”

Again, Clarise stiffened against him, but this time, her fear was for Cora. As her father, it was Avis’ right to discipline their daughter in any way he saw fit. Any way. “Is she alright?” The moment the words left her mouth, she realised how foolish they were. He had just finished telling her that their daughter’s disobedience had been ‘handled’, so of course she wouldn’t be alright. She amended her question to, “Will she recover in time for us to leave tomorrow?”

For some reason, Avis found her questions amusing. A ripple of mirth travelled through him until he was chuckling lightly against her. “She’s fine, baby,” he grinned, rubbing his chin over her dark hair and inhaling deeply. “Damn, you smell so good.” His body language shifted gears with the proclamation and she felt him harden against her, but she couldn’t follow his new train of thought. Instead, she grimaced at his terminology. Avis froze against her. “What?” he asked, curiously.

How to word this in a way he won’t be offended … “I know Mystallians choose to … flavour their words more than Highborn Hellions do, but would you be … angry … with me if I said I did not like it?”

Avis appeared confused for a moment, but then his eyes went wide in a combination of hurt and dismay and he vigorously shook his head. “No! By the Twin Notes of creation, sweetheart. If you want me to never swear again, just say the word and consider it done. The last thing I ever want to do is upset you.”

His earnest reply brought a fresh bout of tears to her eyes and she placed her hands on his cheeks. “I would never ask such a thing of you, my love. Profanity is part of the Mystallian way of life. But if it could be curtailed in my presence and that of Columbine, I would be eternally grateful.”

“But not Cora?” Avis asked, arching one eyebrow at the exclusion.

Clarise pursed her lips and shook her head. “You said it yourself, beloved. She is a Mystallian, and profanity comes as naturally to your family as breathing. Ideally, I would love for neither of our children to develop that style of speech, but I am a realist. Columbine takes after me, so her values should be protected as if she were me.”

Avis nodded in total agreement. “Done and done. You have my blessing to slap me senseless if I ever forget.” He looked her in the eyes, his own burning with intensity. “And I’ll make sure everyone else back home gets that message too. Don’t worry about it.”

A satisfied smile spread across her lips as she snuggled against her husband’s sternum. “I know you will,” she murmured, for she’d heard the truth as he knew it and loved him all the more for it. She almost hated to change the subject. “So, what did you do to Cora that is so different from the Highborn Hellion way of discipline?”

Twisting to one side, Avis chuckled as he slid an arm behind her knees and lifted her into the air. “A conversation that long deserves to be had in comfort,” he stated, carrying her to the bed. “Preferably, the carnally sated kind.”

​

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

For more of my work: r/Angel466