Ultimate Assassin Saga: Escape

The Angel Queen felt like her world had dropped out from under her. These were serious crimes that she was being charged with. Treasonous crimes that could get her killed. She couldn't even deny them because she had lied to him by omission and allowed him to think that Nykrian was his. Even though she didn't want to usurp the Crown of Paradise, she could see how it would look that way and she knew that she couldn't fight that charge either. At thoughts of her son, she turned to look at him, but she saw that he hadn't moved in the least and his aura didn't hint at anything.

The Angel King walked down the dais, descending the stairs and walking towards her. She straightened her spine and she kept her mouth shut. It wouldn't do to speak with him and anger him anymore than he already was. He was the one in charge of sentencing her and she didn't want to end up dead. She saw Nykrian turn his head to watch the Angel King and his eyes were empty of all emotion. He stopped in front of her and she could see that his face was beet red with anger.

"You have embarrassed me and I will not stand for it." Loki gritted out angrily. His eyes snapped and crackled with his rage. His blue eyes were dark and filled with hatred as he stared at her. Before she could react, she saw the blur of his hand coming towards her. She closed her eyes and waited for the slap to come. Several seconds later, she felt no pain and she frowned. She peeked open one of her eyes and she gasped at the sight that was presented to her when she did open her eyes.

The Angel Prince had caught the other man's wrist in a tight grip and his face was filled with rage. Then, as she watched, he threw the Angel King back several feet. The Angel King skidded across the ground before stopping at the foot of the dais and he looked up with rage filling his eyes once more. However, she could see the shock that was in the back of his gaze and he seemed unready to counterattack him. However, she noted that several of the Angel Guards had drawn their Devablades, each one of their faces blank of all emotion and ready to dive into battle.

"You will not harm my mother." Nykrian said, his voice calm and sure. He stood ramrod straight, blocking her from his sight, but he hadn't drawn his own Devablades. He probably should have because Loki wasn't well known for his patience and he wasn't well known for allowing people to get into his way. However, Nykrian had been his son for over one hundred years and it was quite possible that he was feeling some residual fatherly pride in him, however unlikely that might be.

"You have a choice, Nykrian." the Angel King replied, his voice strained and angry. He dusted his shoulder and he stared at the man who had been his son for a century. His blue eyes were empty of their rage now and his face was now devoid of all emotion. It would seem that he had regained some sort of composure. He raised a hand and signaled to the Angel Guards. She saw that they obviously wanted to move forward and cut through them, but they merely sheathed their weapons as was their Lord's order. Then, he turned his attention back to the two of them. "You have a choice. You can remain here as my son and Heir to the Throne or you can face the same punishment that your mother faces."

"I will stand with my mother." the Angel Prince shot back immediately without hesitation. Trissieal smiled with pride at her son's answer right away. However, she knew that this could be very bad. They were more than likely facing death and she didn't want her son to die. No, she wanted him to live, even if that meant staying with the man who would kill his mother. She knew that Nykrian wouldn't like it, but she had no choice. She had to make sure that her son was okay. She opened her mouth to speak, to convince her son otherwise, but she was stopped by the Angel King's sigh. It was heavy and regretful.

"Your punishment is a harsh one. You shall have your wings clipped and you will become one of the Fallen." Loki said regretfully. She felt a pang of fear and dread in her heart, but it only increased when he lifted a single hand, pointing at them. Then, she felt a surge of power pour through her, ripping her apart from the inside and she cried out in pain. She slowly sank to her knees, placing her face in her hands and tried to stifle her screams of pain, but she couldn't. She could feel her power being stripped away from her, leaving her a shell of her former self and making her into a mortal.

She was able to see through her tears and saw that her son was completely unaffected. He was still standing and wasn't screaming in pain. It seemed that the Angel King was trying to get him to kneel and cry out in pain, but she knew - even throughout her torment - that he wouldn't. He wasn't like her after all. Her son was only half Angel and stripping that power away from him would mean little to him when he had so much power through his Demon blood still coursing through his veins.

Just as quickly as it started, the pain receded, but the effect of it was no less devastating. Trissieal still held some of her power, but it was a miniscule amount compared to what she'd had before. Your average Angel child could slap her aside as if she was but a flea now. Panting in pain, she allowed her hands to slip from her face and she felt the stinging of her sweat pouring into her eyes from the pain. She had too much pride to remain on her knees and she knew that she had to rise to her feet, but she couldn't seem to make her body move. Then, Loki waved a hand and six of the Angel Guards moved away from the windows, moving towards the two Fallen.

"You are to be cast out immediately. You will regret this, Nykrian." the Angel King said, his voice devoid of all emotion. He was all business now and his feelings had no place in business. She stared at the two men as they faced one another down, but her son showed nothing on his face as he stared at the man that he'd called father. Still she could sense nothing from her son and he didn't seem surprised by the fact that the man wasn't his father for some reason. Had he known all along? She supposed that wasn't important at this time. After all, they were being cast out of Paradise.

The Angel Queen gritted her teeth and she rose to her feet slowly, her knees straining. When she was standing tall once again, she straightened her spine and she stared into his eyes, glaring at him. She had never - and would never - feel love for the man. This only topped it off completely and she didn't hate him, but she didn't really care. The Angel Guards surrounded them and she knew that they were the one's that were guiding them out. She glared one more time into the eyes of the Angel King before she turned around and walked willingly from the room with the guards following her, her son close behind.

They weaved through the hallways left and right until they came to the front doors of the palace once more. Trissieal knew that this was the last time that she would be in the home that she'd lived in all her life. Then, the Angel Guards opened the double doors and lead the two of them out onto the metal platforms. She stopped at the edge of the platform and she gritted her teeth as she stared down into the fluffy white clouds of Paradise. She knew that as a Fallen Angel, she wouldn't be able to step onto the clouds and not fall through. No, as a Fallen, the moment her feet touched the clouds, she would fall through and plummet to the Mortal Plane. She would survive the Fall of course, but she would be vulnerable even with her son at her side.

The Angel Queen turned to look at her son and he stared into her eyes. His moon silver eyes held no fear and that lack of fear in her son bolstered her own courage. She'd been to the Mortal Plane before, but that didn't mean that she knew the entire land. No, the only part that she'd been to had been the Central Continent and she was hoping that that was where she would Fall. They would have enemies coming after them, but she could only hope that her son would be able to protect her long enough. She wasn't weak, but she wasn't a warrior and she didn't fool herself into believing that she could take on anything that came at her.

"Go." the Angel Guard at her side ordered in a stern voice. She took a deep breath and blew out in a long; steadying breath. Then, she stepped off the platform and she closed her eyes as she fell through the clouds of Paradise, falling to the Mortal Plane. She could feel the power of the portal around her as she passed through the Veil between Worlds and she wished that she knew what was waiting for her.

If she had known what was waiting, she would've welcomed Falling to the Mortal Plane.

Chapter 2

Acheron walked slowly down the black stone streets of the capitol city of Dalkia. This was but one city in the huge Empire of Dalkia and there were hundreds of others, mostly smaller than the capitol. The city was filled with Demons of all Flights, the Dark Races - Orcs, Ogres, Goblins, Minotaurs, Gorgons, Nightflyers - and even Humans or Elves of different castes. However, the Humans and Elves were not like the rest of their brothers of blood. To survive in Dalkia, they had to be cut throat and expect a knife in the back from anyone, even the closest of friends. That was how they all survive because everyone schemed and everyone wanted to move up in the ranks.

He was huge, over seven foot tall, and heavily muscled with large arms and broad shoulders. He had long midnight black hair that fell to the small of his back in a single; thick braid and emerald green eyes set in a bronzed; roguishly handsome face. He wore a long sleeve black tunic with silver fastenings up the front and silver piping around the stiff collar and the sleeves, black linen trousers, knee high black leather boots, and a black leather belt with a huge broadsword sheathed at his left hip. He was a Chaos Demon which made him among one of the most powerful caste of Demons, but there were those that were more powerful, though not many.

The Chaos Demon was a well respected and feared individual in the Empire of Dalkia because of his rank as well as who he was related to. He was the Command Assassin of Dalkia which made him deadly and revered, but there were those who would see him dead. After all, the only way for one to become the Command Assassin was to kill the previous one and take his place. He was the first Command Assassin of Dalkia and he had no intention of giving up his rank any time soon. All that was well and good, but there was another thing that made him feared by the people. He was the younger brother of the Emperor himself.

Many people of course thought that Acheron was only the Command Assassin because of who his brother was. However, that was the furthest thing from the truth and most of them knew that. It was the young upstarts who had crawled out of the Abyss and hadn't been there when he had helped carved out the Empire with his own blade that thought that he was truly weak. When they graduated from talking behind his back and decided to take action, he showed them just how wrong they were.

The Chaos Demon was brought from his reverie when the sound of thunder boomed through the air and he looked up into the sky. The sky was blood red and every now and again there was black lightning that forked across the sky. There were no clouds in the sky, but the sky of Dalkia wasn't a natural occurrence. No, it had been magicked that way by Mages that they'd brought through after they'd come through and had decided to create their Empire here. They had created a huge force and a huge empire that spread across the eastern part of the Central Continent, creating an evil Empire that all feared.

Their natural enemy was Manathera, the Human Empire that was far to the west and they were a powerful force to put them off. The Command Assassin didn't mind the Humans and he really didn't have any kind of opinion of them. They were weak creatures, but he had seen over the years the traits that lead them to the power that they now were. At one time, the Humans had been ignorant beings hiding in their caves and doing their best to avoid the other; more developed races. However, they had bred into a huge number, and somehow, they had found a funnel of magic. With that, they became even smarter and more skilled with blades that they were able to move out of their caves to create true constructs of central power.

He shook himself from his reverie and he lowered his head to stare at the streets. There were few beings on the streets, but he knew that each of them were dangerous and could mean a knife in his back. He was a difficult being to defeat and there were few who had ever shed his blood. In fact, his brother Azrieal had been the only one who had ever been able to wound him during sparring matches. They were never serious battles, but when one brother had a sword and the other had strong magic at his fingertips, things tended to get heated.

Acheron walked swiftly down the streets, his boot steps echoing off the marble steps and they seemed to echo against the stone buildings around him. He was heading for the pub so he could have a drink and relax for a while. He had been sent on a job that had taken him a few days longer than what he'd thought it would be and it had been a little harder than what he'd thought. He'd been sent after a powerful Human Mage who'd been capturing Demons from Dalkia and subjugated to be used as slaves of his. Now he was back, he was going to get a drink and relax.

The Command Assassin saw the stone building that was the pub up ahead and he allowed a smile to slip over his face. He rarely showed any kind of emotion because emotion equaled weakness in Dalkia and everyone within Dalkia looked for weakness of others. Murdering one another was seen as a show of power and willingness to raise their rank through their own cunning. He had never attacked someone for their weakness, but that was only because he was already the second highest rank in the Empire, second only to the Emperor. He was the Emperor's personal Assassin and no one could give him an order except for his brother.

The Chaos Demon stepped past an alleyway which was dark and shrouded in darkness. He almost missed the movement out of the corner of his eye, and if he had, he would've died that day. As it stood however, he turned and saw the man darting from the alleyway towards him. He held a razor sharp dagger in his hand and a determined look on his face. He was obviously relying on the element of surprise to bring him through and the sure aim of his dagger. He had lost the element of surprise and now he was going to lose his life.

He side stepped the grungy Human man's dagger and allowed it to pass right by him, barely missing his ribs. He lashed out, slamming a balled up fist into the back of the man's head. He cried out in pain and fell face first on the ground. In one motion, Acheron drew his broadsword and he held it over his head, point held down. He stood over the man, and in one motion, he plunged the blade down into the man's back where his heart would be. The man cried out in pain as his blade slipped right through his flesh, bone, and muscle like a hot blade sliding through butter. The Human man coughed out a puddle of blood and he grew still.

Gripping the hilt of his broadsword, he was about to draw it free when he was attacked once again. He sensed the creature before he saw it and he whirled around without his blade in hand. A rather large; muscular brown skinned Orc rushed him, a handaxe swinging through the air for his skull. The Chaos Demon reacted instantly, his hand shooting up and catching the Orc's wrist, stalling it's strike. Staring into the ruby red eyes of the Orc, he tightened his grip and he felt the bones of the creature breaking under his grasp. The creature cried out in pain and it's handaxe fell to the street. Then, he let go of the beast's broken wrist and allowed it to stumble backwards.

The Command Assassin watched the creature, expecting it to turn and flee. However, even while gripping it's broken wrist, it stood it's ground. It gritted it's teeth at him, and even though it had to know that it was dead, it refused to back down. He respected that kind of bravery - some would call it foolishness - in his opponents. Suddenly, the Orc short forward, though what damage it was hoping to do was the real question. Then again, it did have a free hand and Orcs were notorious for getting the drop on their opponent. He wasn't going to let that happen.

He met the Orc's charge by darting at the creature to meet him in the middle. It's ruby red eyes widened in surprise, obviously not expecting such an action. It was because of that surprise and assumption that he would stand there to defend that would be it's death. He reached the creature, and with all his strength, he slammed his palm into the creature's throat. The beast tried to cry out, but was unable to because he'd crushed it's windpipe. He lowered his hand and watched the creature sink to it's knees, trying to breath, but unable to. After a full minute of panicking, the Orc fell to the street, dead due to lack of oxygen.

Acheron searched the surroundings for any more enemies that might be waiting in the shadows. However, he found no hint of an aura around him and he decided that it was over. What the Human and Orc had planned to do, he didn't know. Had one of them wanted to kill him and take his place as the Command Assassin? He didn't suppose that he would ever know, but he allowed that to drift away from him. He turned back to the corpse of the Human and he closed his hand around the hilt of his broadsword, pulling it free of the Human corpse. He cleaned and sheathed the sword. Then, he turned and made his way towards the pub once more, needing to relax even more now.

He could only hope that there wouldn't be any more attempts on his life tonight, though he could handle himself.

XXXXXXXXXX

Acheron sat at his seat in the pub and he held a half empty glass of fire whiskey in his hand. It had been full to the brim as per his order, but he'd already drunk most of it. On top of the scarred wooden table were three empty bottles of fire whiskey that he'd already drank all alone. However, he wasn't anywhere near drunk, but he had hopes of getting drunk soon. It would just take a couple of more bottles of fire whiskey. He was sitting with his back to a corner of the bar so no one could come up behind him and sink a blade into his back. After the attacks earlier tonight, he was ready for more of them, but he'd been here for three hours and nothing had happened yet.

The bar was large and square shaped, made out of wood that had been cut up so many times that it wasn't funny. In the corner was a bar and behind that bar was a line of shelves stacked with liquor bottles of all kinds. There were a dozen tables in the pub and each one of them were taken up by a Demon,a member of the Dark Races, or a cut throat. Every eye was looking around, searching for a blade in case it was coming for their blades or their throats. It was a well established fact that one who stopped looking was one who died with a blade in his back and more than likely a cut throat. However, they avoided looking at him.

The Chaos Demon nearly smiled, but he curbed the impulse as quickly as it came. These Dalkians were afraid of him and there was no use in them trying to deny it. He could sense it in their auras and he could practically taste their fear on his tongue. Part of it he knew as because of his own legend and his reputed abilities with a blade. The other part was the fact that he was the only family of Emperor Azrieal and no one wanted to anger the Emperor. Even if someone had managed to kill him, Azrieal wouldn't have been mad. No, his brother would figure that he'd grown soft and had deserved to die for that offense. There was no love lost between the two brothers.