Redemption

Chapter 6

The blistering sun made the air scorching hot. Azalea wiped her sweaty palms as she trudged uphill. She and Crux walked in silence as they headed toward the upper-class cemetery.

"What did my king offer you for your services?" Acrux asked, breaking the silence.

"Your beloved god didn't say?" Azalea replied.

Acrux's silence was an answer enough.

Sighing, "If I handed over the resurrector heads, I get a free ticket to Caelum." she said.

"You are doing all this, risking punishment for the mere chance of going to Caelum," he asked, slightly surprised.

"Unfornoutanly, Gehenna was a bit too much for my liking," she bristled.

Scoffing as she stared up at the temples before her. There were three. The biggest and brightest belonged to Arcturus, the sun god; her lip curled as she watched the priest and priestess dressed in white robes enter and leave the temple. The second was slightly smaller and darker, Bellatrix, goddess of night. And lastly, the third, and farthest apart, was for Iram, God of death, King of Inferis. Azalea never recalled seeing any allocates from that temple; she supposed being surrounded by the God of death was unappealing to many. Her mind drifted to how the God of death mentioned how antsy his siblings were. She shuddered, thinking of how Arcturus and Bellatrix would react if she failed and what Antares would endure if they survived their anger. Azalea never worshipped the gods, thinking them insignificant, as most people only focused on the two. However, she now only recognized the God of death because she had met and interacted with him. She never understood the blind trust many had in the gods, yet only felt distrust and fear when the God of death was mentioned, despite death being a final destination for every single one of them, no matter one's status.

Shaking her head free of thoughts, she kept walking, the busy city and temples slowly fading as they arrived at the outskirts of the town. The graveyard of the rich lay ahead of them. Pausing as she pushed open the gates, the loud creak sending any bird flying, she hesitated. Acruix pushed forward, knocking into her shoulder. Sending her along several paces ahead.

"Asshole," she muttered, rubbing her shoulder.

Walking through, carved marble headstones littered the grassy land. Flowers decorated most tombs, their bright colour striking against the gloomy atmosphere.

"Do you even know what you're looking for?" she asked, following Acrux's fast pace.

Ignoring her, he walked around inspecting each grave, kneeling, fubbing the dirt, and sniffing for scents and signs Azalea had no idea of. She sat down, twirling her knife, waiting for him to finish.

"Let's go," he announced, breaking the tense silence.

Leaping up to her feet, Azalea asked," Did you find anything?"

"No, but our answers most likely are in the other cemetery."

Azalea glanced at the sky; the sun was just about to set. Faking a yawn, she said. "I'm tired. We will do it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? It's not even nightfall. Do all mortals have no energy or just you." he said

"The cemetery is on the other side of the city; it will take a few hours to walk there; feel free to do it alone, but you king ordered me to kill the resource, not you," she said.

A while passed, and they found themselves in her house again, trudging to her room. She closed the door and waited for a bit. Slowly, Cranking the window open, she slipped out and jumped, rolling onto the floor to break her fall. She slipped through alleyways ensuring no one was following her, especially one very tall and dangerous immortal warrior. Tugging her mask to cover the lower half of her face, she crept into the light once, sighting the shadow that lounged there. As she approached them, casually drawing her hand to her hidden knife.

the hooded figure called out, "Rumour is that you're dead, so how are you healthy and alive?"

"And I thought you wouldn't listen to petty gossip," she replied.

"It's my job to listen to rumours and petty gossip. Why did you call me here?" he said.

"I need information."

"Information costs money, but I'm assuming you have that."

Azalea tossed the pouch, landing in the outstretched arm of the figure; it clanked loudly while he rummaged through.

"At your service, what do you want to know?" he said smoothly.

"Dead people coming to life? Is that true?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"Ahh, the Resurrector of souls, or that's what they call him."

"Do you know anything about it?"

"I know that 2 graves were found empty in the lower cemetery and that two lords are dead could be unrelated, but this is Antares. Freaky shit always happens."

Nodding her thanks, she waited for her informant to leave before yanking her mask down, relishing the cool air hitting her face.

"Did you think you could sneak away and I wouldn't realize?" Acrux's voice rang in the dark as he appeared seemingly out of thin air.

Cursing, Azalea turned around, face to face with Acrux, her irritation growing.

"I do not need to be surveyed at every waking moment. Stay. Away. From. Me." poking her finger on Acrux's chest.

Grabbing her wrist, Azalea froze, surprised; Acruz pushed away her hand as he said,

"Unforuntualty, I am ordered to be painfully aware of everything you at all times," his face so close she could count every lash if she wanted, their breath mingled.

Clearing her throat, she stepped back. "Let's go," she said, trying to get away.

"You paid for unnecessary information you already knew; you could have tortured it out of him," Acrux stated boringly.

A figure darted through the corner of her eye, cutting her reply short; gripping her two swords, she tensed, waiting. Acrux doing the same. Moving slowly, they crept closer, the moonlight glinting off the metal; the figure walked into the light; Azalea squinted, drawing in a gasp at the sight ahead of her, a pale face looking like all the light was tucked away from them, black ink ran threw their vulns a stark contrast from the paleness, but what drew her attention was the most was the empty expression on her face. It fell down to its knees letting out a wailing scream, full of misery; clawing at its face, it crawled forward and reached a gate, and with a loud squish, its neck met the sharp pole, and it went still, black ooze trailing down.

Rooted to their place, weapons still drawn, Azalea and Acrux stared at the impaled figure.

Swallowing the uncomfortable feeling down, Azalea whispered into the night. "The undead."