"I ask you again. Lower your blade."

The shimmering sabre still hovered beneath his chin, mere centimetres away from cutting his throat open. Danadrian looked into the eyes of the first male Demon, the first other Demon he'd encountered before, and he didn't make that good of an impression.

Gellron didn't so much as flinch, and his grip didn't falter even after holding it for several minutes.

"Did I misspeak, Lightbringer? Alleria Elevar, command him to be still and silent before I cut him down here and now."

Alleria's face was pale, and both her hands were shaking.

"Gellron, what are you- how-" she swallowed hard, "How did you find me, those Hunters-"

"Is that a joke?" His look was disdainful. "Chaos only beginning to settle in that slum town, Humans at each other's throats above us, even if you were sanctioned to be here, you'd be recalled. It's disgraceful. Tracking you was trivial." He raised his blade another inch. "Now, am I to understand this man is your servant? Your slave? I wouldn't be surprised if you took up that abhorrent practice yourself."

"He's- you don't-" Her voice was breaking and stammering more than he'd ever seen before.

"My name is Danadrian, servant of the Goddess of the Light, and Alleria's companion. You are… her brother?"

His eyes still held that dangerous glint, the look of a killer, but that he didn't cut his throat then and there, Danadrian took as a good sign.

"We were born from the same parents, if that is enough to call her my sister by your standards. Tell me, how is it that a Lightbringer has come into her service? Coercion? Blackmail? Or are you her paramour?"

"We are travelling companions, brought together by common cause and the threads of fate. Now, if you would remove your blade from my throat, it would be much appreciated."

His amber eyes bored their way into him. "Raise your sword an inch and you will lose your life."

He nodded, and the blade was slowly lowered. "What do you want with Alleria?"

"It is as I said. She is commanded to return to Demagain to face punishment for her crimes; her 'exile' was not ordained by the High Court, and as such is being treated as an attempt at fleeing justice."

"But why…" Alleria's voice broke through again, "Why did they send you? Of all people- why-"

He turned to her, his back straight and figure tall. Definitely a soldier, or at least someone trained to be one. "I volunteered. They could have sent more, but I assured them I was enough. Do you want to know why?"

She didn't respond, but he stopped a few inches away from her. He wasn't quiet or subtle in how he spoke.

"Because I told them that you weren't capable of being a threat, not unless they were your own family, that is." He looked her over again, and for a second his gaze froze, staring at the object strapped to her waist. "So, you carry it openly. Have you no shame?"

When she didn't respond, he grabbed her wrist. She flinched.

"Have you no shame?"

Danadrian grabbed his hand, and he released her. He spun to look at him, face fixed in a snarl.

"Let her go."

"Insolent Human." His sabre struck out like a snake, but he dodged the first strike that would have pierced his neck and backed away.

"Don't-"

His own weapon was already raised, but somewhat belatedly, he recalled the Demon Hunters falling from single cuts as he glanced at the shimmering blue blade, the blade that looked similar in make to Alleria's. Alleria's, which she had warned would kill him if he was cut.

The arc of his approach made it seem like he would attack from overhead, but his posture told him it was a feint, to open his exposed chest, where he wore only cloth as protection.

He drew his blade overhead. As expected, he thought his trick had gone unnoticed and so wasn't prepared when his slash spun downwards in an arc, knocking away his attack.

Gellron's frown deepened. Danadrian paused for a moment; he thought he'd seen something in the air when their blades had connected.

He jabbed forward again, and he deflected it instinctually. Then another came, and he was forced back another step.

"Loathsome creature. Murderers."

He looked into those amber eyes and saw something flicker for a moment. Then it was gone. The full length of his blade met the sabre in a clash.

The air burst aflame. Incandescent light and colour bellowing forth from the sabre. It swirled across the hallway, crashing against root and stone, covering both flinching Demons. Avoiding only one person, or rather, being pushed away from one place.

Danadrian pulled his sword away, and the mana-

That had to have been mana.

-froze in the air, before pulling back into the blade. But his heart skipped a beat as something caught his eye.

It looked like a face, a masculine face caught in a scream, dead eyes staring off into nothingness.

Then it was gone.

Gellron staggered back, eyes darting between their weapons. "What was- magic? No, no, it isn't possible." His eyes narrowed. "What is that? Who are you?"

He lowered his blade and looked around. No more mana, no more faces, but he could imagine that the residual energy or at least the burst of it, would not go unnoticed.

"Keleiva will sense that, and if they aren't already on our tail, they'll know exactly where to go now." He took a step forward. "So you have two options before you. One, you continue to fight me here, and maybe you kill me, but then the Talradians are on top of you. And maybe you can kill them all as well, but Alleria will be far out of your reach by then."

"And the second?" He asked through gritted teeth.

He closed his eyes a second longer than he needed to and breathed in before continuing. "We leave. Now. Whether you want to take Alleria back to Demagain means nothing if we're all stuck down here forever fighting."

Gellron stared at him. "Compromise from a Lightbringer? How novel. Fine, I won't kill you now. As for this one…"

He turned to look at Alleria, but Danadrian took another step towards him. "Lay a hand on her again, and I don't care if there's a thousand Demon Hunters upon us."

He glanced back at him, eye darting between him and his sword, before he stomped past his sister without so much as a word.

He immediately ran forward to Alleria. Her hand was resting on the hilt of her sword, which had been drawn out an inch. It was still shaking. He hadn't seen her face so pale before, even by the dim light. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him.

"Are you okay- no, you're not. Alleria-" He faltered, he wasn't sure what to say in this moment.

Too many things are happening at once for me to understand. Her brother? She barely mentions her family, and I think I can see why now.

What are those swords of theirs made of? What do they do?

She committed a crime in Demagain. What was it?

"I'm sorry, but we need to get moving."

She nodded, but with her unfocused eyes, he thought she was barely looking at him. Then she turned and saw the back of her brother, and her breathing picked up its pace.

"Hey, hey, listen to me." He grabbed her shoulders and made her look at him, and only him. "Remember, just breathe, okay? Follow me, okay, breathe…" He breathed in and out, making her copy him. "Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out." After a minute, she was able to look around properly, and when she met his eyes, he thought she could see him clearly again.

"Danadrian? I'm sorry I- he shouldn't- I-" She breathed in deep. "We need to go."

He nodded, "Right. Stay close, okay?"

She nodded. He sensed some hesitation again, but then her back straightened and she put one foot in front of the other. Then another, and another.

Before long, she was walking properly again and covering their rear, as Danadrian stayed in the middle and Gellron led them forward. He was loath to let the Demon choose their directions, but it was either that or have him anywhere near Alleria, which he absolutely wasn't going to allow.

Unlike before, Gellron was as mute as a statue. He said nothing to either of them and looked back rarely, ostensibly to make sure they were keeping up with him. When he did, it was with such thinly-veiled animosity it was a wonder he hadn't tried to cut them, or at least him, down again.

It led him to the conclusion that the threat of the Demon Hunters was enough to stop him from trying to take Alleria and kill him. Though he imagined the worry was more that she might flee out of his reach in the event they did catch up. After watching Gellron face them before, albeit with surprise on his side, he was convinced that whatever he had strapped to his belt could decimate an entire army of them.

And what exactly was it, really? It occupied the part of his mind not entirely focused on surviving, and there the thoughts festered, and the theories rose and fell and rose again, stronger than ever, trying to piece together the plot around him, now with a clearer mind.

The sabre was made of the same material; that much was certain. What it did, though, was another matter entirely. Were they coated with some sort of lethal poison that killed on contact? Was it magic? How else did you explain what he'd seen?

Talradian and Carathiliar bodies falling from cuts so utterly dismissible, the way Alleria avoided talking about it, her reluctance to even use it. It screamed of something more, a truth that continued to evade him.

Their advance continued down the never-ending corridors that melded into one, through empty rooms filled with only dirt, dust, and rubble. They walked for so long that his legs started to hurt, and that made him worry for Alleria.

Her wounds have only just healed; there's no way she isn't feeling fatigued.

His concerns were vindicated when he looked back and saw her lagging behind a little; a grimace stretched across her face. When she noticed him looking, she waved a hand.

"I'm- fine, really. I can keep going." Her voice was quiet, audible only in the empty silence of the dungeon.

He shook his head. "No, we should rest. We've made good progress today, or tonight, and I find it unlikely that a few hours' reprieve would allow them to catch up to us, if they even know where to go." That last bit he said louder, for the benefit of their third, unwanted travelling partner.

Gellron paused in his march down the hall and turned his head just enough to glance back at them. It was too dark to see exactly what expression he was making, but his tone more than made up for it.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Lightbringer. You think the Talradians will rest before they've found their target? That they will pause for a but a moment?"

"They will if they wish to mourn their dead, of which you left them plenty."

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His smile was wide enough that even he could see it. "They know death well enough. It will not delay them long. And this group will only be the first of many to descend here, if the lives of two Demons are on the line."

"We need rest, she needs rest. Four hours, maybe five."

Their eyes met in a contest of stares in the darkness, before eventually Gellron jerked his head away. "There's a room around the corner. You get four hours."

Danadrian nodded, but as they trudged around the corner, he knew he wasn't going to get so much as a wink while this man was around. He couldn't afford to, for either of their sakes.

What was it Alleria said when she described the House of Wrathius? Right, natural-born destroyers.

Not exactly the type of person, even under better circumstances, he would willingly sleep around. Or maybe it was some of Alleria's paranoia seeping into him, but he found it hard to imagine sleeping near anyone he didn't one hundred percent trust anymore, unless there were locked doors between them.

The room he led them into was small, naturally half ruined by the weathering of time and nature, but at the very least, there was enough space to go around. Looking around, he noticed rusted piles of metal in the corners, chains hanging from the ceiling, and what might have once been stone tables resting against the wall. That, or they were just slabs that had broken and fallen.

"Looks like an armoury," he muttered to himself.

"It probably was." Alleria shifted next to him and pointed a finger up. "The carving is mostly gone, but it could've been a plate, or an anvil."

Following her hand, he nodded. The symbol was almost entirely gone, but if he squinted and filled in the gaps, he could see it.

Alleria quickly found the corner furthest away from her brother and sat down in it. Her hand still visibly rested on her sword, as it had been the whole time.

Danadrian looked left, to the corner now dimly glowing green, and to the entrance, where Gellron still stood, staring coldly at them both behind red horns. He sat himself down in the centre, with his back to Alleria, and began gathering rocks to make a small firepit.

Once that was done, he placed the roots he'd stored in his backpack and flexed his fingers, before belatedly remembering that he'd need to move his sword a few metres away before he started. He glanced up at Gellron, who was leaning against a corner, and slowly drew his sword out and placed it beside some rubble.

He sat down and flexed his hand again. Placing it against the roots, he tried to imagine a fire dancing between his fingers. Then he visualised all the heat inside of him, inside of his body, beating with his heart, and drew it into his mana.

He felt warmth blossom beneath his hand and opened his eyes. He hadn't even realised he had closed them. He held the fledgling flame against the roots until they began to take it, and in no time, he had a small fire going, beating away the darkness.

"A mage as well as a Lightbringer."

He glanced up and shot back. Gellron was watching him as he loomed over the flames. He hadn't even heard him move, much less seen him.

And with the benefit of its light, rather than the dim glow of slime that was so common across this ruined place, he was able to get a better look at the Demon.

Beneath his cloak, which was either black as night or the darkest brown, his outfit was remarkably coloured. The texture looked like leather, but firmer and more flexible, with most of it lightly amber in hue. Across his waist, his belt seemed to be made of tightly woven purple cloth, and similarly, a band ran across his chest of the same colour. Finally, around his neck hung a… he could only describe it as a device of some sort, made of intricately layered pieces of metal so tiny he assumed only a master smith could have made it.

"Are you a Paladin?"

He got to his feet and brushed the dust off his pants. "No."

"A Cleric, then, or a missionary."

He frowned. "What I am is none of your concern."

"Alleria trusts you. That makes you either dangerous, a liar, or both."

When he got no response, he continued.

"I believe it's both. How else could she have survived this long, with a company at her back? Although I trust that being a bodyguard for her doesn't pay well."

He tried not to grit his teeth, but it was a struggle. "I am not her bodyguard, and whatever assumptions you have about either of us, you should keep to yourself. As the second Demon I've met in person, you aren't doing your people a service."

He snorted. "As if it bothers me what your kind thinks of us." He looked left. "That sword. Where does it come from? And what are its properties?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

"Consider it an investigation. As an agent of the High Court, it's my duty to gather any evidence pertaining to her case and present it to them. Your involvement with her, and therefore anything related to you, falls under that category."

Under different circumstances, that might have been the most reasonable explanation anyone's given me in weeks.

If it weren't for the way he glared at him. If it weren't for the look in his eyes, in his snarl, when he glanced toward his own flesh and blood. That swirling in his amber eyes, the tenseness of his shoulders. He saw it all and imagined for a moment that he wasn't a Demon at all.

An image appeared in his mind. And where the man stood, he instead saw a caged animal, bound by iron and chain, pulling and bulging against its restraints. Two wrong steps and one weak link away from breaking free.

He shivered.

Wrath.

"How about a trade, then?" He took a step forward. "Something of yours for something of mine."

His glare bored a hole through his head, but the Demon nodded. "Fine. But you answer me first. What are its properties?"

"It emits an anti-mana radius around itself, reflecting any mana and manipulation of it. Likely it comes from the metal itself, which is lighter than any other I've touched."

"Useful for the traps here."

"A coincidence I thank the Light for," he replied with a thin smile.

"And your question?"

A single question, when dozens were jostling for control of his tongue. Enough to fill a conversation for hours, if he were willing to speak with this person for longer than a few minutes. Which he wasn't. But he had to pick just one. One that he thought he might get a solid answer for.

He glanced down at the sword at his waist, up to his eyes and his horns, the metal around his neck and the sash across his chest. He thought of Alleria and her brother, of the family she said so little about. But what eventually left his mouth was-

"The Talradians said they killed your God."

Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last one he thought might illicit a reaction besides cold removal. Instead, Gellron froze, his shoulders going stiff. The crease on his brow lessened slightly.

"How did they do it? I thought it was- it should be impossible."

Silence. Amber eyes washed over him again, appraising him once more. Then his hand went to his waist.

Danadrian immediately backed away, but instead of drawing his sabre, Gellron simply laid his hand on the hilt. When he looked up again, he spoke in a much quieter voice.

"They killed him in the only way that Gods have died. With betrayal and a blade in the back. And they sealed their fate, and that of all Humans."

He turned and retreated to his corner, leaving Danadrian standing over the fire, shocked by the response. Apparently, there was something else within that Demon that he held dear to, besides his disgust towards Alleria, because the look in his eyes wasn't foreign to him. On the contrary, it was familiar. He'd seen it in his own eyes, reflected back at him in his worst moments and shining in his best.

He looked back towards the sleeping form of his companion, and thought on that word again, that encompassed so much of his every day.

Faith.

. . .

When Alleria did sleep, it was a rough and uncomfortable sleep, drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness. And when she drifted far enough toward the latter, she dreamed. She dreamed and cried for escape and release from them.

Dreams and memories. Memories and dreams. All conglomerated into one.

Her brother smiled as she tried to match his movements, before showing her the correct angle to hold the wooden 'sword'.

"It'll become easier the more you get used to it, I promise."

She frowned and looked at his own sword, not Soul Steel, but an ornately crafted work of art. Beautiful and artistic.

"Easy for you to say, strutting around with that blade Ulium made. Everyone's jealous, you know?"

He smiled, a carefree look unburdened by wrinkles or worry. "Trust me, I've noticed. Even father's been giving me the look sometimes. Speaking of which-"

He looked past her as she heard a door creak open, his eyes widening with delight. "I think that's him now. Father, look at what-"

She turned to look at her father-

"No."

She ripped herself away before she could see his face. The world dissolved around her, and she was once again drifting aimlessly in her sleep. But the waking world didn't come for her, not yet, and no matter how hard she tried to force her eyes open. The memory shattered, but the dream yet remained.

She peered through the crack in the door in the dead of night. There was movement, and then two figures appeared, one with a torch in hand. Their red horns blazed in the darkness. She saw her brother's face, his expression mixed with trepidation and uncertainty, while her father-

She looked away, but their voices still carried through into her room, in whispers and hushed tones.

"Are you sure I'm ready? I know you've been talking about this for weeks now, but I'm not entirely certain-"

"You're ready, I know you are. You have heard some of the scripture, yes, but never witnessed it presented to us. It is time you took your place beside me and the Gathering. I know you will make me proud."

"You're sure?"

There was a rustle of movement again. "In all my training, you've excelled, and I have no doubt you will surpass me one day, perhaps even make a name for yourself as a blademaster. It is what our people need."

"And Alleria? What about her?"

He sighed, and she imagined their gazes turning to look at her door, unaware that she was listening to their every word.

"Alleria… your sister, she lacks your talent. There's too much of her mother inside of her-"

Mother…

No-

She shot up with a gasp. The silence of the room was loud in her ears, save for the sound of breathing. Her eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the darkness again, which gave her enough time to ease her heart, which was pumping hard enough that she could feel it in her ears.

A shape moved beside the dying embers of a fire. "Alleria? Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Yes, I'm-" her voice croaked, "-fine."

He nodded and rose to his feet. When he did, his body shifted enough to reveal the red flames breaching the shadows at the far end of the room.

Gellron.

Her body immediately began to clench up again, and her heartbeat became faster and faster. She struggled to regain control, taking deep breaths and trying to focus on something else, anything else, but in a place filled with single patches of light, there was little else to see, and none stood out more than the flames of a Demon.

She knew they would send someone eventually; she'd been preparing for it. But to send Gellron, or rather, to have him follow her in their stead… it made her wish for the Demon Hunters to make a surprise appearance again, if only so she could get away from him, and escape those flames of Wrath.

Escape those flames, and in doing so, flee the past. Flee the knowledge of what we've done, what we did, and the responsibility we refused to take.

She tried, in vain, to shut away those intrusive thoughts. She rose from the ground and dusted herself off, in an attempt to think of anything else.

Her clothes were in tatters, frankly, and she didn't need proper light to realise that. Another person would have cared more for modesty's sake, but given their circumstances, she'd put that to the wayside. If they got out of this place in one piece, she'd have to get Danadrian to buy her some clothes. Without a hat or a proper hooded cloak, it was a death sentence to enter a village or town.

She adjusted her scabbard, making sure it was still properly strapped, and turned to Danadrian. "I can go a while longer without rest now."

He inclined his head. "Don't push yourself too much, okay. I made you some soup."

He handed her a bowl of his dungeon-famous root n' slime soup, which was still lukewarm and didn't taste quite as bad as the first time. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Good because it meant she could keep eating it indefinitely without the feeling of needing to throw up, bad because it meant she was getting used to a meal that could barely be considered as much.

"I offered your brother some, but he said he had his own rations. That he naturally did not deign to share with either of us." He added the last bit with an undisguised glare. "He had qualms with me starting a fire at all, actually."

"H-he did?"

"Supposedly, our pursuers might smell the smoke. But I reasoned that they were close enough to smell the smoke from such a measly fire, then they'd be close enough to hear our voices as well, and at that point we'd already have heard theirs."

"That's… sound logic, Danadrian. Well done."

He gave her an odd look. "Are you really alright?"

"I'm fine. Completely. What's wrong, don't I look it?"

"Honestly, you look like you'd rather be facing down a tuffhorn."

It was right about now that she wished she could mimic Danadrian, or that there was something else nearby she could be, anybody else that wasn't Alleria. Alleria the Demon. Alleria, the sister of Gellron. Alleria Elevar, the exiled Demon.

"Hey," he gently touched her shoulder, "what your brother… what Gellron was claiming. About your crimes in Demagain, the reason you are wandering here in the first place…"

This is the part where he asked if it's true, and what it is we did. And can we answer him then, with absolute honesty and the truth? Can we put our actions into words?

She closed her eyes and tried to prepare herself, but what he said next threw her off even more than she'd been expecting.

"It doesn't matter to me."

Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at him sharply. "What?"

"You heard me."

"No, but- you aren't going to demand answers, an explanation, anything?"

He shook his head. "Do I look like a monster to you? I know the look of someone clearly distraught when I see it. All too well, in fact, and as far as curiosity and a desire for answers goes…" his head tilted to the side as he glanced behind him, "Well, that definitely hasn't gone away either. Far from it."

"But then-"

"Because I know you, Alleria, or at least I think I do. And what I do know has led me to believe that you will tell me when you are ready to, and that I must simply be patient until that time comes. So I will do just that."

It was… inconceivable. She thought about their arguments, the threats she'd made to him, her dismissal of the Lightbringer that had interested Velandus for no reason that she could see. In some ways, a benefit; in other ways, a hindrance. That's how she'd thought about him.

But she also remembered the Fallen Angelica standing between her and the Demon Hunter General, defending a Carathiliarian, holding aloft the Light as he prayed to gods that would not listen.

"Where do you find this trust of yours, Danadrian?" Those were the next words to leave her mouth.

At that, he just tapped her forehead with his finger. "It was as you said. I may not understand people all that well, but what I know is faith. And I think I have faith in you."

She immediately tried to see where the lie was hidden, which part of his face was his 'tell' and when he'd start laughing. But his face remained firm, and he didn't pull his eyes away once.

"I- I don't know-"

-if we deserve this.

Danadrian smiled and turned to look behind him, where Gellron was no doubt watching them. Only then did it waver slightly, but all he did was adjust the strap holding his sword and nod.

"Let's do this then," he whispered.

She nodded and took a deep breath. Then, willing her hands to stop shaking, she walked beside him as they came to the end of the room.

"Gellron."

She looked up and met her brother's eyes, eyes full of both hate and malice.

"Alleria. Once we return to the surface, the High Court will have you face justice for your actions. Only then will you be remanded from my control to theirs, and you may pray that the Seven and One look kindly on you."

"I understand."

"Then you will come willingly? I expected you to run." His look was cruel. "I hoped for it."

"No." She noted Danadrian shifting slightly, but she repeated herself again, firmer, "No. I will not go willingly, and if you think you can take me by force, then you are sorely mistaken."

She placed a hand on her sword. Her. Sword.

"I'm not a child anymore, brother. And you have fallen so far from what you could have been."

She expected anger, drawn blades, words that would cut her even deeper. But it unnerved her when she received none of that. Instead, his scowl was slowly, inch by inch, replaced by a smile. A smile that lacked all humour.

Wrath descended on the dungeon.

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