The Infernal Society

Chapter 5

The ex-ambassador of the Purinites stood tall by the colorful stained glass window of a chapel, caught in the path of sunlight that scattered various colors on his face. Salt and Pepper-colored hair stuck out from beneath his gray flat cap, his hands buried in the pockets of his dark blue trench coat, personally tailored to his liking.

Alistair Cross had a stone-like face, with piercing eyes the color of rich soil and twinkling emeralds. A cigarette was stuck between his firm lips as he watched beyond the window as ghostly wisps of smoke danced in front of him. Wisdom and pride reflected on his worn face which was unable to smile. And his eyes were always lost, searching, deep in thought. A common trait of the Cross family.

Alfie stared at him as he crept through an isle of dark red carpet, unsure of what to do or say. His grandfather had this powerful presence to him. And because he knew exactly what his grandfather was capable of, was exactly why Alfie was cautious of him.

Alistair Cross was a fearless, ruthless, and strong-willed warrior. Serving his time as a young purinite elder, did he commit the most horrible acts of punishment upon the infernal plague when he fought alongside his master, Arch Maxence. He was named the knight of penance by his peers, which is one of many titles he possessed; and the things he's done to the immorally wicked were never to be mentioned aloud. The purinites were merciless servants of Arch Maxence who upheld the righteous Christian religion; an organization of pure terror to all infernal-kind who honored the angelic king of angels and the father of existence itself. And upon the discovery of cambion children did the purinites conjure a purge to rid the world of such perversions of nature.

These were all the things that were preached to Alfie as a child. It made him cautious and sensible, and as he grew older, he became fearful of his oh-so-loving grandfather. But today Alistair mourned the death of his daughter, which made him to be somewhat more approachable. 

A few steps brought him closer to Alistair. People had finally cleared out of the chapel. His grandfather seemed lost in thought, and Alfie could not pry. Despite him knowing better, his grandfathers mind would never be accessible to him, or anyone like him...

Alfie heard stories of how Alistair reacted upon his daughter's affair, and the coming of his grandson's birth. It was a surprise to both Alfie and his mother they survived his judgement. Exile was the only way. If the Purinites were to ever discover his existence within their own lands, he feared the worst for his family. And everyday poor Alfie wondered if his grandfather regretted his decision. Even as he stands before him, he could see it reflecting in his grandfather's thoughts. What sanction would be brought upon him if his daughter's greatest sin and his secret sanctuary were to be discovered?

Alfie shivered at the thought. The word chaos came to mind.

"Well," grumbled Alistair. "Are you going to keep standing in there like a lost puppy, or are you going to come greet your grandfather?" He kept his focus beyond the window. The way the sunlight highlighted him in polychromatic specs if light made him look quite menacing.

Alfie was still.

"Come along boy," Alistair faced Alfie. "I'm not going to eat you." His smile was welcoming. A trick, Alfie thoughts to himself.

He entered the room slowly. The rosy scent of his mother caught in his nostrils and a chill ached his heart. There was a part of him that wanted to cry. He held his fists tight to prevent that from happening. Especially in front of Alistair.

"H-hello, grandfather." He sounded too juvenile. Alistair stood tall and Alfie flinched as he took a step towards him. For a moment Alistair questioned Alfie's frightened reaction, then proceeded. He was hesitant, but slowly, he wrapped his long arms around his grandson and pulled him into a hug. Alfie's arms hung limp, all of a sudden heavy. Shortly, a found the strength to hug Alistair back. It was awkward for them both.