Bereft: Demise

3 | Of Winged Things

The plane flew east, and the sun fled the world. The cabin was plunged into a cool darkness as the gloaming hour dominated the sky. Other passengers snapped the shutters over their windows closed as they settled in to sleep, but I kept my window open. I watched the midnight clouds float below like meandering ships in the night. 

Being in first class, we were provided with a large complimentary dinner of roasted chicken and pilaf rice. I didn't touch mine—but Darius ate both our plates, and the stewardess retrieved him a second dish without complaint. She also handed me a soda when I asked for one. I held the cold can between my hands, contemplating the slick sheen of condensation on the tinny metal.

I wonder if this is how Amoroth travels, I thought. Then I remembered that, though Amoroth was stupidly wealthy, she was also a Sin. Sins typically traveled through the Realm.

I rolled my eyes and set the soda aside.

When he was finally sated, the demon relaxed into his seat, his head reclined on the padded headrest. His eyelids fluttered closed, but Darius continued to narrate his tale in a low voice audible to my ears alone.

Darius and his brethren had, in fact, worn togas and strappy sandals. They were worshiped as gods by the late Romans, and togas had been a status symbol with the wealthy and elite. Darius had gone by the name Mithras, a god popular amongst the Roman army. Balthier had been Mars, a god of war. 

They had resided within their great temples, accepting worship and sacrifices from their legions of followers. Though in the temples they enjoyed decadent lives in which their peculiarities were revered, Darius told me they had only been able to stay in residence for brief snatches of times.

"The Absolians were relentless in those days," he growled, splaying his hands atop his knees. "If the barest whisper of our presence reached their ears, they sent out their vanguard—the Wandergard—to eradicate us. Conspicuous actions on the part of any Sin or mage or witch brings the Wandergard into Terrestria. We all suffer for it."

Drowsy, I leaned my head upon his shoulder. Darius didn't seem to notice. "I imagine being worshiped by humans was considered conspicuous."

He snorted. "Indeed. You see, the Absolians—and, by extension, the Wandergard—believe Terrestria is under their jurisdiction and thus in their care. They police the realm fiercely whenever they can be bothered to leave Absolia."

I recalled Saule Ozlin, the witch priestess in Verweald, saying something similar about the mages. The Blue Fire Syndicate thought Terrestria was under their thumb as well.

"So, we could only stay in the temples for brief periods of time. A few months, a year at most. The energy of an Absolian is so egregious we could all feel it as soon as one of those winged vigilantes entered the city. We would scatter into the winds, not unlike cockroaches in the light of a torch." Darius's voice was laced with bitterness. I heard his teeth click together as his jaw tightened.

"I'm surprised the Sins didn't challenge them," I muttered. "Allowing Absolians to control your lives seems outside of your characters."

I felt Darius nod. "We challenged them. Once. The results were not in our favor—but that is another story, for another time.

"In Rome, we did protest the Absolian incursions, though not in a direct manner. We encouraged the Roman ideal of pax deorum. Do you know what that is?"

"Yes, actually. It means 'peace of the gods.' The Romans sought to appease their gods with proper sacrifices and, in return, their deities protected the people and the cities." I grimaced. "That does sound like something the Sins would think of encouraging."