The child was repaying its favor. Azrael could sense that deep down.
It had grown up and gotten where it needed to go, had relayed the message that it needed to relay. Leaving a mark had done the trick.
It was a strange thought: being free. And it seemed almost improbable. Yet, Azrael hoped and prayed for freedom all the same. He prayed that this wild, whim of plan would work out after all.
Of course, his inner darkness would certainly be an obstacle on the way to freedom.
The creature living in Azrael's skin slumbered less and less. And so Azrael's time on the surface, in control, grew slimmer as the years went on. It was the weapon within that dominated.
It grew stronger too. More powerful. More expansive and demanding.
The child and Azrael's family—whatever their names were—they could free him from his physical chains. But he wouldn't truly be free until this other presence was gone.
He wouldn't truly be free until he had control of his own body again, until he could go by his own name.
The world didn't know him as Azrael. He wasn't himself enough to have earned that name from anyone.
He was Quietus.
But if the child succeeded, if the child repaid her debt, perhaps soon, he'd be Quietus no more. Only Azrael.
Azrael Kolthorne of the Underground.
YOU ARE READING
Heir of the Underground
FantasyAurelia just wants to live a peaceful life. Unfortunately, the Heir of the Underground has other plans for her... ~ Left on the steps of the chapel at birth, Aurelia is taken in and trained to serve the High King, the defeater of the Fey. Only, unb...
