A Song of Gelato and Flambé

Gathering Forces

Torix had arrived at the coffee shop and nearly stumbled upon seeing the destruction that had been wrought. She had seen the place nearly levelled from the battle between Lucifer and Uriel, resulting in an entire city block filled with chaos. Not to mention the destruction and carnage from the fight against the world eater.

But this was different.

This was close to home and personal. Not by some being of indescribable hunger and destruction but by a Tuath Dé who people were still willing to believe in. And somehow, the relatability of Roisin's mortality made it worse.

An abyss demon dead on the sidewalk, the woman's partner staring at the body with a look of confusion. Through the windows of the shop she could see that displays, machines and furniture were scattered or destroyed. The smell of blood was thick in the air, and it choked her to realize that she recognized more than the demon's death-scent.

Mentally, she put the call out for the nearby Lao to come to this location, and then she started up the steps. When she began stalking up the stairs, the rock demon turned to look at her, first with aggression and then pain. Pure and unbridled guilt was on his features, though he didn't seem to understand what had happened.

"I couldn't do anything... I tried. She tried... She got farther than I did." His expression turned strained, eyes filling with tears as he clearly tried to say more.

"I know. I've figured out what's going on. Roisin will pay for this." Torix paused in front of the large, solid form, noticing the look of relief on his face.

That relief told her that their guesses and assumptions about what was happening with Lucifer and his legions were correct. She wanted to stay longer to comfort the demon, but the sounds of her friends inside drew her to turn from him and his pain as she stepped through the door.

One of Ferya's wings was bent at an odd angle and Gavin's armour was scuffed. The rest of his uniform was dirty. There was a trickle of blood down his neck from the back of his head, but he was just holding Ferya as the woman bawled. Ferya's swords were scattered on the ground, as if dropped. Torix stared at them for a long moment, then forced herself to take in the rest of the scene. There was a witch in one corner, half sprawled out but looking conscious and a body between her and her friends, surrounded by a cooling pool of blood.

Áedán.

Torix knew like a second sense that he was already gone, but she lowered herself to one knee and pressed her fingers to his throat, above where the damage was. The wound was deep and brutal, but expertly placed. He would have bled out in moments. Torix wavered where she was, a tide of guilt, anger, and despair washing over her as she looked at the face of the young man she had sent to die.

"I didn't trust him. He had disagreed with me about Roisin, and with everything going on, I didn't trust that disagreement. I told Ferya that maybe he wasn't on our side. I was wrong. And now he's dead." Gavin muttered.

Torix glanced up, meeting his guilt-filled green eyes.

Then the doors opened behind her and she spun to see several Laochra Síocháin pausing in the doorway, still more gathering on the street. She stood and glanced at the most senior of the group, an orc with a long scar across her face.

But she couldn't say the words. They stuck Torix's throat under the weight of her own emotions.

"Waiting for orders, ma'am." The Orc offered, nose flaring, even as her eyes took in the scene.

"This is a crime scene. I believe it is connected to the attack on Sarathiel. So I will recuse myself from being involved. I am going to take Gavin and Ferya up to my apartment, and we'll await an interviewer, but we will not speak of the incident until they've spoken to one of you." Torix nodded upward, biting back her desire to supply an accusation that she didn't dare make.