The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage: Wandmaker Vol.2

WM [107] Inky Blackness

The door to Nuriel's study opened with a gentle hiss. Isin went to lower his head but was stopped by Nuriel's hand which held his face. Isin didn't see when she approached. She was in her human form a perfect faux-human appearance that would drive normal men wild but only discussed Isin. Her perfect face was twisted into deep self satisfaction.With a wave of her hand the Ophanim was dismissed and vanished without a trace.

Isin swallowed, forcing his voice to remain steady. "My Divine, I have come at your summons. How may this servant—"

"Slave." Nuriels correction was soft, but it cut like a blade.

"How may this slave serve?" He forced the words past his teeth, stripping them of any hint of disdain.

Nuriel's smile deepened, her amusement shining in her inhuman eyes. She released his chin and circled him slowly, the predatory grace of a being that did not walk, but glided.

"You continue to leave me astonished, love," she murmured, pushing him forward into the study. "What you are, what you are capable of... every time I think I know your limits, you show me something new. This time I will give you a little surprise."

If not for the wide open door the space would look endless in all directions. Nuriels study was blank, featureless white aside for a single metal desk. There were floating holographic screens filled with unreadable text at the workstation. From his vantage he couldn't make out the text on any of them. He knew better than to ask about them.

Strange, soothing music played in the background—a melody unlike anything Isin had ever heard. Ethereal, almost hypnotic. It wasn't human music. It was something else that moved through aether instead of air. Something that pressed against the edges of his mind.

Isin forced himself to focus. "How could this slave be worthy of a surprise from you?"

"That is true. However, consider it a reward for bringing me that canister. Oh and..." She motioned two boxes over to him. "This is also your reward."

The boxes snapped open and lunged toward him like beasts seeking flesh. Pain exploded through his arms. Blinding, electric agony. The devices latched onto the raw stumps of his severed wrists, metal tendrils burrowing into his nerves. He felt every wire, every connection, as the foreign material melded with his flesh.

He refused to scream in pain, he refused to give Nuriel the satisfaction. He looked her in the eyes as the boxes melded with flesh and dug into his nerves. In moments they started to form themselves into obsidian hands.

He didn't watch the process. The entire time he grinded his teeth and stared daggers at the Angel. Nuriel looked even more smug at his resistance; however she returned to her desk and sat down as a golden throne materialized and the desk fell away.

"I thank you, my Divine." Isin said.

"That is more like it, Number 293. I am quite pleased you returned and my gifts do not end there."

"I am not worthy of more." Isin said. "I simply performed what was expected."

"True, but this is not a gift you can refuse. You see, there has always been something that has eluded me. The secrets to your birth, how you were created. There is no precedent for a human to carry the seed of the Divine. Our power would not do well in the body of a slave woman. You should have died in gestation if that was the case."

"I do not know how Bazaath created me. I would assume it was through normal means, I did have a mother." Isin said.

"I didn't expect you to know. I have figured it out and this is my gift to you. A child, one born of a Divine and a Nephilim."