Nefarius and the Angel in Misery [One Shot]

Part 1: Tears Under the Sycamore Tree

Flying around the bright beautiful city of Eleutherius makes every distress in me to diminish. Remembering how far, how fast, and where I have been, were no important.

Here I am, atop on the highest tower of the city, leading to a circular view of the vicinity, full with colourful lights. I slipped my poisonous macuahuitl into its cage, on my back. It hangs in there firmly as if it will not going to slip away. This Aztec obsidian sword was given to me by an Egyptian sword smith, before surrendering to his death. I don't see the relation between the Aztec and the Egypt but somehow I managed to see the sword's use.

I jumped. Head first. feeling the cold breeze of the wind into my face and into my skin in my drop. From that fall, I glided. My black wings expanded at full length. Hovering as high as those buildings is like I am on top of the maze, routing from left to right, from here and there.

I halted in a building comprised of seven storey and saw an aged man. He is lying on the floor while I am walking on the concrete road covered by black asphalts. My meeting point is here and that man intersects with mine. He is panting... moaning... having his right hand on his left chest gasping for air.

"It's about time." I said in a calm voice.

"Bu-but--" He looks astonished as he saw my face.

"Wh-who are," He breathed " y-you?" He said in his continuum.

"Not important for you to know." I am steady while darting to his direction.

"Are you a-" I cut his words once more.

"Yes, and I am here for your soul."

***

"Nefarius!"

I darted on the call's direction and I saw a girl. She has fair brownish skin, has gay gray wings, has gray eyes like clouds pregnant with rain, and has well combed gray hair which bounces as she flies. Those characteristics were enough for me to recognize her, my sister--Notoria.

"You need to meet the Prior. Hurry! He has orders for you."

"Oh...O-kay."

I said immediately and plunged myself into the darkness searching for the Prior's place. Giving orders for us, the Dark Angels, were less compared to those of usual devil monsters and Prior's other minions on Earth. Maybe it was because those of his other devils were making his commands no traffic, than to us which needs spare time to accomplish. Those devils: evil spirits, witches and warlocks, demons, and even nightmares were his most trusted.

Is it because--? Oh, hell not! I don't know.

In my flight, there were so many rotten bones scattered. Spirits soaked into the river Phlegethon. They are producing howls, whimpers, moans, and agonizing shouts that fill the sulphuric atmosphere. This river of fire, keeps the damned souls in pain, in fiery magmas which streams into the abyss. My smooth flight appeared unacknowledging those Damned Souls in existence.

Then a big gloomy, dark, and colossal castle approached me by its massive obsidian gate, surrounded by the fiery river. The gate began to open as I stopped in front. Levers were tuning into its mechanical contractions until it stopped. The massive opening became passable. I journeyed the edifice's facade and flew against its metallic bronze door. I ceased as I found the fireplace then knelt.

The Prior was sitting in his couch that was designed full of skulls, comfortably playing his little spotted Hellhound on his lap.

"Alas! My Nefarius is here." A cold and ironic voice of a frightening man approached my entrance with a glance.