Darksiders: Light In Darkness (Fourth Book)

Chapter 15: Just Fake It

Sighing in quiet despair, Dantè dipped his head in respect to his father; the Prince of Darkness. Lucifer grinned widely and flicked his wrist, bringing the demon general to his knees.
"So you like keeping things from me?"
"No." Dantè gritted his teeth and slowly rose back to his feet.
When he felt a warm, gooey liquid ooze from his nose, Dantè hesitantly wiped the blood away. Lucifer cackled and stood up from his throne, red eyes glued on to Dantè's now fearful ones.
"Are you sure? Instead of detaining the Maker, you took her to the horsemen."
"It was justified. You wanted Damiana to finish the blade, and Ilyea was the fi-"
"SHE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAVE THE RAVIIM!" Lucifer roared, sending Dantè into a fit of shivers.
"I have half a mind to take that miserable light from your eyes...but your mother has begged me not to." Lucifer glanced back at Lilith, whom had let out a long held in breath when Lucifer took a step back.
"Wonderful." Dantè mumbled in a low tone.
"How I wish you were as obedient as your brother Demetrix." Lilith piped up, walking towards Dantè.
'But I'm not.' He thought but instead mumbled a quiet 'I'm sorry.' under his sorrowful breath.
"So...the Anti Christ lives...you're so predictable, Muriel." Lucifer grinned, closing his eyes.
"All according to plan, this is excellent."
"What of Genesis?" He asked, opening his eyes to a slit to gaze at Dantè.
"It's almost completed, about a day or two until it's finished."
"Good."
Lucifer made a small, dark humored chuckle and turned to face Lilith.
"I'm going to need you to leave the room."
"But my prince-"
"I SAID LEAVE!" Lucifer grabbed the sputtering she demon by her wrist and pushed her a couple feet towards the door.
"Fine." Lilith huffed, stomping away.
Dantè blinked over at his mother's disappearing frame and took a hesitant step back.
"I'm not going to hurt you, my son, not yet."
"Then what else do you need? The horsemen will get suspicious."
"What do you think of Damiana? What do you really think?" Lucifer's malicious grin surfaced again, this time darkened with an unknown secret.
"Um...she's okay, I guess...why do you care-er, ask?"
"Return back to your post and watch...then come back to me."
"Couldn't you just tell me what you're thinking, my lord?"
"Just know," snickered Lucifer, "That this little Secret could end the Council's reign. I just need another witness."
"Witness?"
"Stop asking questions! Be like your brother and do as you're told!"
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     "UP, get UP!" Strife hissed.
Picking herself up from the dirt, Damiana sighed angrily and spat blood. The two have been practicing for almost a day and it felt like a lifetime to Damiana.
"Why'd you have to kick me-"
"Why didn't you dodge it?"
"Because-"
"Because nothing, GET up and try again!" Strife pulled Damiana up roughly and shoved her a few paces back.
     Shaking her head, Damiana brought up the practice blade and tried to urge her tired mind to awaken and strike the smug Strife. When she missed and stumbled, Strife swiftly knocked her off her feet again.
"Come ON!"
"Are you going to tell me what you couldn't before?" Came a mocking response.
'Tell anyone...and the Watcher dies.' Came a very familiar voice.
    She opened her mouth, almost spilling what she heard earlier, but promptly closed it. Damiana wanted to not care, she wanted to tell Strife what he had the right to know. She wanted to allow Vora to die...
But something inside her heart tugged and burned, forcing her desperate lips to be sealed.
"Well?!" Strife asked, taking a threatening step towards Damiana.
"I can't tell you-"
   Making a sound similar to hissing and sighing, Strife grabbed Damiana by her hair and lifted her up from the ground.
"Don't disappoint me again."
"Can't you just give me a break?"
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Taking a sharp intake of breath in, Misery looked up at Fury, who gazed lazily back at her.
"You don't talk much, do you?"
"You hear more the less you talk." Misery said quietly, looking deep into Fury's bright yellow eyes.
She wouldn't dare speak of her vision to the one she felt was a brat. None of the younger Nephilim were at all respectful, especially the one named Strife.
But that's what worried Misery...
What Misery kept from the her eldest brother, Absalom, for years was her remarkable gift given to her by Lilith. She could see possible events; something called Precognition. What she saw a few seconds before...disturbed her.
'Why hadn't I seen it before?' She thought, jumping down from the chair.
Pacing about the house, Misery's bleak eyes flickered over to the window beside her and noticed a orange flame in the open window of the foundry. From the window, she noticed a flash of bright red hair and tan skin of a young maker.
"Maybe I can tell her...she seems to understand the importance of silence." Misery nodded once, beginning her trek to Ilyea.
Unaware of the silent red horseman that was listening to her from the darkened corner.
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Ilyea sighed and wiped the sweat from her brow, trying to catch her breath in the smoldering Forge. She looked down at her long jagged wound and frowned when it seemed to rip open again. She figured that she could allow her blood to fuse with the sword pieces as she smelted them together...but her wound kept ripping open, dripping dark red blood on to the nearly complete blade.
The dark substance glanced off the flat of the wide blade as if it was liquid proof, not even a trail of blood was left behind. Smiling with triumph, Ilyea gently caressed the smooth blade, marveling at how cold it was.
"It's beautiful." Misery smiled, tapping Ilyea's shoulder.