Relic of the Fallen (Chapter 1)

Redemption is sought for a wrong that was ignorantly committed.

"If You Could..."

And lo, in our darkest hour, when ash rained from the skies and the wicked clawed at Heaven's gates, the Divine Relic chose a vessel most pure: a child of no name, no glory. Through his innocence, the Tyrant Queen was shackled, and the blight was undone.

-- The Book Of Divine Acts, Section III Verse XII*

"If you could... Would you kill me?"

The question hung in the air, its impact like the raised blade of a guillotine. The stuttering light of dying candles flickered against the blade in her hands.

Her hands, mid-polish, went still. She looked up.
"Yes."
No hesitation. No malice. Just an honest answer.
She returned to her task, as though he had only asked her the time of day.

He dropped his gaze and looked away before responding.
"Right... Of course."
It was the answer he had expected from her. Yet, it still felt like the blade had fallen. His voice grew quieter, taking on a slight shake. "Would..." His voice faltered. He drew a tentative breath and forced the words out. "Would you make it quick?"

Her hands stilled again as she raised her head. Her eyes traced him, slow and deliberate.
Yet she said nothing.

"... Right..."
Her silence told him more than words ever could. He turned and walked away. As soon as she was out of sight, his composure crumpled and he fell to the floor, overwhelmed by a feeling deeper than fear.

She sat in the room alone, no longer polishing her blade. The silence settled heavily as she turned the question over in her mind.
/Would I kill him?/
Her answer had been immediate. Automatic. "Yes".
But why? Her anger and resentment had slowly died to a mere simmer over the last decade. She no longer felt the overwhelming urge to end his life. It just sat there, in the back of her mind.

But she had said yes. It was instinctive.
Why?
Because she had wanted to at one time? Was that reason enough?
He had changed. No unnecessary commands. No forced conversations. No pointless interactions. The changes were small, but undeniable. Yet, he acted as though prolonged exposure to her would burn him. He had apologized profusely eight years ago, his eyes tearful. But it was only after she had told him. Made him see, feel, and internalize the deed he had committed.

Only then had the shift started. She remembered the moment. She didn't take pleasure in it. There was no satisfaction in watching the boy splay himself on all fours in front of her; raw, vulnerable, and pleading.
In that moment, she saw it; honest remorse.

She never finished polishing the blade.


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He sat at his desk, mentally berating himself for the clumsy approach of his question to her. He hadn't planned the interaction to go that way. He had planned on showing her his findings. The fruits of his 8 years of painstaking research.

/The Fallen Relic/.

The forbidden legend. To the world it existed only as rumor and myth, but his long descent into the archives of human records had shown that the relic may actually exist. And if it did exist... And should he find it... They, together, may be able to undo what is his greatest sin. What is her greatest sorrow.

He reread the text in front of him, As though if he didn't commit it to his own memory, then the text would disappear forever.
Two halves. Divine and Fallen.
Harmony by twin will. Dominion by fractured soul. Restoration by union.

Dominion by fractured soul.
That phrase reverberated in his consciousness. That is exactly what happened. He had dominated her will. Usurped it as his own.
No. That's not entirely true. She has the ability to decide and choose her own actions... But those actions must not conflict with any commands he has already given. She can't kill him. The ten year old command is still in effect. Yet he asked if she would.

She said yes. Of course she said yes. He was the embodiment of the first moment of her grief, and the cause of her continued grief every moment after.

He may have been a mere child, barely the age of fifteen. But it was his words that bound her. His commands that caused the tragedy that haunts the existence of not only her, but himself as well.

"Why did you ask me that question?" Her voice startled him so much that he nearly fell backwards out of his chair. He hadn't heard her approach. She was surprisingly silent when she wanted to be, despite her long seven feet in height and equally long wingspan.

"Question?" He responded, trying to play ignorant to her question as he took a few moments to regain composure after the fright she had given him. He eyed her across the room, wary.

She scoffed at his feigned ignorance. "You know full well what I'm referring to. But if you need a reminder..." Her voice lowered in a false menace as she hefted the long blade she had been polishing earlier.

"Ah. That." He said, doing his best to keep his voice flat. He knew full well that she couldn't kill him; She knew it too. But that didn't make her display any less unnerving. He drew a deep breath as she silently waited for his answer. He continued speaking in a soft voice, carefully weighing and measuring each word he spoke to her with a practice born from eight years of trying not to give any unnecessary commands; he knew too well that even a stray syllable might chain her anew.

"I wanted to know how brightly your embers still burned."

"Brightly enough for full ignition if provoked." She answered, her eyes once again sizing him up. Weighing his worth. "But they have time enough for a small conversation..." Her voice trailed off, giving him permission to continue. As if he were the one that ever required permission.

He grabbed the text on his desk and stood to face her, but kept his eyes lowered to the floor. "I found something... Interesting." He said softly, with well practiced pacing.

She scoffed slightly at that, feeling a mixture of amusement and frustration that he would not look her in the eye as he spoke. Why will he not look at her? Did she even want him to?

"What did you find?" She asked, her voice flat so that she didn't give him any ideas that she might actually be interested.

That's when he raised his head and met her eyes. She met him with feigned apathy, he met her with genuine excitement, and what could only be described as hope.

"What would you say to the possibility of reviving Demonkind?"