Garder mon Ame

Chapter Thirteen: Punishment

All who have taken it upon themselves to rule over others have incurred hatred and unpopularity for a time; but if one has a great aim to pursue, this burden of envy must be accepted, and it is wise to accept it.

~Pericles

Grim pounded a fist against his desk causing some of his animals to squawk or hiss. He wiped a hand across the table top, spilling papers and sending a glass shattering to the floor. Ardin watched his tantrum with disguised amusement. She did not want him to know that she found the situation rather funny; she knew that would spell her death.

"I should rip your wings off right now. I should cast you into the deepest pit of Hell for you to endure the worst sort of torture for all of eternity. You deserve no less, Lux."

Ardin just stared at him, and she refused to speak.

Grim puffed up like a cobra, and he spat venom at Ardin. "I don't think you know the severity of the situation. You've turned a soul before their time. And, not only that, but now one of my most trusted angels is dead. Are you happy, Lux? Are you content with the chaos you have caused?"

When Ardin still did not speak, Grim's eyes grew dark and he took a few steps towards her. They were close to each other now, enough that Ardin could feel the anger radiate off his body. Enough that he could probably sense her indifference. "Remember, I know you. And this silent treatment is not your strong suit. You do not take a berating without your precious words, Lux."

Ardin forced herself to meet Grim's eyes. She felt that same urge again to run, to hide in the fields of Asphodel, but she stood her ground. "I do not see what I did wrong."

"Really? Really? In how many ways must I describe it for you to get it? I thought you were smart."

Ardin scowled. "I was merely helping you. You said you need to grow stronger, right? Those were your words. So what harm is there in collecting another soul for you?"

"You don't know," Grim said, running his fingers through his hair. "Has your training really been that mediocre?"

"No. It was my idea," Ardin said.

Grim thrust his face a bit closer to Ardin's. He even smelled like Death, wore it with confidence. "A normal Turned can go neither to Heaven nor Hell, Lux."

"Then, pray tell, where do they go?"

"Do not get sarcastic with me. And that is none of your business. What you must know is that it does not matter how much sin a soul has attached to it. If a Guardian gets to it first, then that is their kill. Point for Heaven. We must kill a Turned for it to count for us. And it must be one with sin. Just a run-of-the-mill, tiny Turned is not going to give me any sort of strength."

"Spence was not mediocre," Ardin said. "I made sure of that."

"You sure did," Grim spat. "But have you already forgotten? You were not the one who took that boy's soul; it was a Guardian. And it was a Guardian who killed Wrath."

Ardin held up her hands in defense. "I was merely trying to help you. God-knows-why. I'm not particularly fond of you, you know."

Grim scowled. "I can't say that I'm in love with you, either, Lux. Especially not after all of this. There are rules even the Devil himself must follow. You say you wanted to help? You ended up destroying part of my plan."

"Wrath was tiny, anyways."

"Wrath was a stellar Reaper. Top seven. How you convinced her into following through with your crazy idea, I have no clue."