Chapter 5.31 – Through his eyes

Posted: May 5, 2015 in Generation 5
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Guys I’m so sorry that I went AWOL :/
Between moving houses, having no internet, and getting caught up in life, I’ve been gone for a lot longer than I intended to. The good news is that I am back, and pretty excited to finally continue the legacy (and of course get caught up with all of yours). 



I’m lost, drifting between worlds I don’t understand…


Dreaming in memories, twisted with age, and insanity…


Where am I..?


Who am I..?


I’m so thirsty…






Don’t cry…







Elvira, my baby… My baby…


I couldn’t save you from her…


You became a monster…







No.. Give her back.




Slowly, my eyes begin to peal open. Sunlight shatters through the darkness of my mind, burning through the fog, and unhappy memories. My heart beats steady, and still, inside of my chest, reminding me that I’m alive, and to keep fighting. Great trees tower over me, a thousand shades of green leaves litter the sky, and block out the sun that I know that I can feel. Somewhere, a creak bubbles soothingly, and the wind carries the sweet scent of summer on it’s tendrils.

“What do you want with me?” I croak harshly as my eyes fall onto the dark silhouette of a man. Even though I know that I’m dreaming, my throat feels raw, and cracked. His blue, black eyes, as deep as the core of the earth burn into my skull, and I can’t tell the emotion on his old, yet strangely young face. “I did what you asked, I stopped him. Now let me go. Let me wake up.” I plead, the yearning I felt for home was dizzying, and new to me.

“I’m sorry, Larka.” He says softly, his voice thoughtful, and eyes seemingly bleak. My stomach tightens in response, a wave of dizziness attacks my brains, as I tighten my grip onto the soft fabric I lay on. My heart beats just one word. Cassiel.… His name is caught in my throat, and sensing my panic, the man speaks. “The cure is safe. For now.” He paces back and forth, his feet crunching in the thick underbrush beneath us. “I shouldn’t have left such a task for one so young, I wasn’t thinking. Arkin is…”

5.31 (2)

“Mad? Strong? Invincible-“

“No, well yes, but no. He’s not your problem.” His image flickers, as does the image of the forest he had created for us. He pauses in his stride, and sighs deeply. “We are old, Larka, very, very old. And we have been cursed for a very  long time. Those of us who were forsaken by our creators, we deserved it, but Arkin was merely collateral damage, he was just a baby, a whelp. This curse was never his fault. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“So you think he’s your problem, then?” I ask, studying him closely. All at once, he did seem old, talking of curses, and being forsaken, things that could have seemed impossible to anyone else. Azazel had mentioned it of course, yet he merely danced around the details with vague feather light footsteps. “So he’s your problem, and yet you told me it was my job? You’ve sacrificed thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of lives, you’ve let this war go on, let me sacrifice everything it’s meant to be human, and for what? For a suicide mission that you knew I’d wake up from? Why? Why me?”

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“You’ve a right to this anger, I… I’ve let my own pride, my own… Emotions cloud my judgement.” He sighs, dipping his head down low, with whispers in a foreign language under his breath. I tremble in anger, feeling it coil around my throat to the point I can barely breath. It’s in my stomach, on my skin. And then he looks at me, and I see something barely human scratching at the surface. Something dancing over what is meant to be human, but couldn’t quite touch it. “You must understand though, I take no pride, no joy in what it means to end his existence, if I can even raise my blade against him. Out of all of us, he is the only one to have, even for a short reprieve, found salvation for his curse. A fact that I’m sure, does not even escape your attention, and as you can quite clearly tell, I have fine tuned my own, but to what extent. I also don’t think I can. Beyond affection, and admiration, and pure curiosity. I’m not sure they’ll let me.”

They’ll?” I ask with a croak, barely hanging onto the details he was mindlessly spilling. Within the solace of the picture perfect woods, I was with a being that was beyond human, in the way that reminded me of looking through a frosted glass window, at a silhouette that only resembled a man. And I was stuck in a god damned fairy tale.

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“The forsakers, Larka, gods, witches, devils…” As he steps towards me, the forest flickers with him. I’m almost sure he grimaces with the effort of holding the image in place. “Regardless, if I interfere, I do not know what will happen to me. It is not my fight to involve myself in, for I have remained at the fringes of humanity for over a thousand years. The others, Asmodeus, Morrigan, they fight each other over greed, and envy, but I’ve seen the future, I’ve tasted that loss, and smoke, and I can’t let that happen. If I fight, if I intervene, more than I have: If I forsake the future that they’ve chosen… More than that, if they decide I’m a threat before I can strike, then… Well… I’m sure you can understand the predicament.”

“So what then?” I ask quietly. Trying to decode the details he had told was difficult, he spoke as though he was speaking to someone who already understood the finer details of his existence. Instead of dumbing it down for my simple, ignorant ears. Perhaps he just didn’t have the time to explain to me what he was so afraid of, what he feared would come for him. “You want to fight him, right? You want to end this?” He cocks his head to the side with a gleam burning in his eyes. “But you can’t. Because of them, because they’ll… Sense? You. Trying to defy them. And they’ll stop you.”

“You’re a fast learner.” He states in a quiet breath.

“But who?” I whisper, my voice sounding weak to my own ears. I felt like I was standing on a broken precipice, and was about to fall the long way to the bottom.

5.31 (5)

His shadow flickers, til he’s nose to nose with me. His eyes a seemingly never ending labyrinth burn with determination, and uncertainty. “You know who, Larka. You’ve known who for a long time. The immortals are not the only forsaken who walk this earth.” He breath is warm against my skin, almost dizzying as I see images flash before my eyes. “And you, Larka, are not alone.” The words send a shiver down my spine, til I feel goosebumps form on my legs, and arms. His lips press against my ear. “Yours is not the only family that they’ve taken an interest in.”

Slowly his face pries away from my artic white hair, and he watches me turn frozen still. We’re running out of time and I know it. There’s too much I need to know, and too little he can soothe me with. The forest flickers, the shadows turning menacing and cold. The warmth of the sun he had designed and placed in the sky was diminishing by the second, as did the smooth lines upon his face,

“I can’t keep bringing you here, or they’ll figure out what I have planned.” His voice is strained as he speaks. “What you did, to arkin, by summoning his own worst and best enemy, has unsettled the future. I can’t follow what his plans are, they flicker much to quickly to follow. But, I know he will be back. For you. Regardless of anything else. You can give him the one thing he has spent a thousand years mourning. Already you are his most prized possession, and whatever fate he decides, he will not lose you.”

5.31 (6)

“So what am I supposed to do? If he…” My voice cracks. By saving Cassiel, and my grandfather, I had scorned myself, painted a giant target right over my own head. I’d brought them time, but it was my own existence that would lead him back to them. More than that, I couldn’t face him again. I couldn’t turn my blade against the being that I had spent what seemed like eternity in their consciousness, their memories. “You can’t expect me to-“

And then there’s burning hot pain in my palm, like a hot iron has been imbued into my flesh. I shriek for a second, until I see a flash of silver searing through my skin. Painting Symbols my mind can’t grasp in Crimson blood, and torn flesh. Then without uttering a single word, the wound shimmers with some dark magic, binding together, and fusing with a spell. The stranger withdraws his dagger, his face grim and dark and bleak.

“When he does return, and only then, break the seal and I will come to you.” He states quietly, gritting his teeth as he does so. Slowly I move my hand in the dying light, looking for any sign of the scars in my flesh. The only thing that existed had laid there before, my life on the battlefield written in specks of silver, and crescent puncture marks. “Larka…” His breath is ragged, and I can see the sweat on his brow. “I don’t know what they want with you, or why they’ve gone to such lengths to keep you and your family, or the others. Things are changing, something is happening.” My heart flutters in my chest, I can feel myself slipping from this world. Falling away. His words should terrify me, but instead his voice is hypnotic, sending me further and further into the darkness. “It makes me nervous… I don’t like it… What you’ve done, it’s changed things…. They won’t like it… Be careful.”


5.31 (7)

When I finally awake to my own world, I can feel the heat of betrayal in my skin, and in my veins. A firm lump had lodged itself into my throat, making it hard to breathe, hard to bite back the tears. I knew that it was wrong, beyond any belief of a doubt, I knew that it was sick, but the weight of Arkin’s life had sunk deep down into my heart and frozen it with aching, bitter loss. The burden of his life was a colossal weight on my shoulders, that only I could ever understand.

My skin is cold and damp with sweat, and as I look around the small hospital room, I notice that for once, my mother is not here. The realization sinks into my brain like a harsh slap across the face with reality. She’d always been here, regardless of how cruel I was, or how dismissive, if I didn’t acknowledge her, or only regarded her harshly, it didn’t matter, she was always there. I didn’t think, I never thought, that even in the haze of loss she’d found herself in that she would give up on me. God knows I deserved it, at times even wished, but now, I only felt the weight on my decisions.

The rawness in my stomach makes me feel ill, and numb. Just incredibly numb. I’d thrown myself at the monster that had killed my father, and had survived, how was that fair? No wonder she couldn’t be here. I grip my hands together tightly, as though it was the only thing tethering me in the room. And I think to myself, so desperately that it hurts, I ask myself, how can you destroy a monster without becoming one yourself?

5.31 (8)

That would mean denying him, denying Arkin, the Arkin that had been a slave his entire life, that had been tortured and broken. Irrevocably. Shattered into so many tiny pieces, and put back together so many times, that he wasn’t even himself anymore, wouldn’t even recognize it. Before he’d had a chance to grow, to decide for himself the path he would take, it was stripped from him and taken away. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Arkin that existed now was nothing more than an instrument of fate, a slave to his thirst, and a slave to his mother’s will.

And no one had ever once mourned the Arkin that could have existed.

Had anyone ever mourned the me that I could have been without the dark presence inside of my heart, on my skin, from the other side?

I feel eyes on me, as I brood, and grieve the possibility of futures, and pasts that could have been. Worlds and possibilities that could have existed without this war, without this curse on humanity. And when I finally meet the gaze at my door, a part of me trembles. Cassiel’s eyes are dark, and lined with deep shadows that dug beneath the surface. His jaw tensed, and the skin pulled tight against his face in anger, and sorrow, and sleepless nights.

5.31 (9)

“Larka…” His voice comes out as a low growl as he steps into the room. Despite the stress, and exhaustion, he was still the Cassiel I remembered, a golden sun, only now marred by a dark eclipse in his eyes. He was alive. But seeing the anger clearly written across his face, I had to wonder why. And when was the last time I’d seen him? It didn’t matter when I did it all to save his life. “I told your mother to go home, that you’d wake up when you were good and ready. Just like with everything that you do. On your terms.”

I want to find the strength to be angry with him; To yell at him, to demand to know why he’d send her away, to understand why he could possibly be mad at me for saving his life. I shoot him a devastating glare that falls short as he takes another step forward. A silver crescent shaped scar shimmers across his neck in the glare of the light. I flinch, imagining Arkin tearing at his throat, and find my breath trapped in my throat at the image of him flailing, trying to escape. I try to speak, I open my mouth and my eyes flare as only a strangled sound passes my lips.

“Your irresponsible.” He says finally, his eyes burning into mine. “How dare you even think that my life is worth more than yours, than our baby?” Cassiel growls taking a seat on the edge of the bed, and I react, finally finding an ounce of strength in my distant body. I swing my hand at him, trying to push him away, all I can think about is the image of Arkin on top of him, his fangs ripping, and tearing at his throat, and it’s too much. Cas easily catches my frantic hands, and he holds them in place. “Do you even want me, Larka?” The sun in his eyes shatters into blackness, the pupil swallowing it whole. The toll of my absence, and of choosing to fight for him in the shadows, but never with him was written as clear as day. “If it gives you the tiniest shred of happiness then I’ll do it. I’ll leave. If it’s what you want…”

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“Cas…” I breathe out, not completely sure that I’ve even made a sound. I tremble in his hands, biting into my lip desperately to stop the tears from falling. I was coming undone. My father. Arkin. My mother. Him. I had been fighting for so long that I didn’t know how to stop. “What was I supposed to do, when you were going to die?” I croak out in a strangled voice.  “You know, you’ve never once asked what I see when I go away… No one has.” Of course I was glad that I never had to explain, but if he had seen the things I had, he’d understand, if he felt the god awful memories I’d lived through. “And what I see is horrible. Cas. I only seen the people that I… My only power is seeing people die.”

He pulls my hands to his face, and kisses my fingertips softly. And even though his eyes held the same bleak hollowness as before, it was like him being able to touch me, and to hold me was the most important job in the world at the time. And maybe, perhaps, being here with me was the only thing he would ever need.

We sit in silence for the longest while. His hands stroking my hair, running trails down my stomach, caressing my cheeks. He didn’t need words to bring my body back to life, or to thaw out my bones, only the look in his eyes, and the warmth of his skin. I wondered what he was thinking about, maybe about what I had seen in the week I’d been in the coma, if anything at all. Did he pity me? Did he still wonder if I wanted him to leave, if that would somehow make me any happier? Because it wouldn’t.

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Before him I’d only found joy in senseless violence, and the haze of alcohol. Perhaps I still did. But I was a wreck before him. I didn’t want to see the world around me, or take notice of it, I only wanted to hide behind the drugs, and sex, and insecurities. And now, I thought if I closed my eyes any longer I’d miss it, the world, and something to find hope in. Maybe the sun glinting on his hair, and the way it reflected in his eyes. And soldiers died, following orders without hesitation because that’s what we did, but now, I’d sooner die finding something worthy of dying for, a someone.

And as I watched him, and the sickening scar on his throat, I knew I was learning what it meant to need someone. Even if my entire being was fighting against it. I needed it, and I needed him. Especially here, right now, when I was sinking into oblivion and needed someone to pull me back out.

Tell me something beautiful….” I ask quietly. Cassiel’s eyes soften over mine, and then he responds with my name, and nothing else. Like it was an undisputed fact that everyone knew and understood. I frown. “I’m a demon Cas, even you’ve said so yourself.” I argue defensively. That, right there, was the only undisputed fact that I knew at the moment. “And there’s nothing beautiful about that.”

“Even Lucifer was an angel once. And he was the most beautiful of them all.” He states thoughtfully, running a hand down my arm to my hand. I pull away quickly, and don an arrogant tone, pulling the mask back on that hid this side of me, weak, and sappy, and entirely dependent on him.

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 “Guess you missed the part where he fell, and was banished-“

Cassiel captures my chin, and lifts it up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His breath is warm on my face, only inches from his own. “Then I guess the only difference between the two of you is that you’re going to win your holy war.”

  1. Poor baby Larka. *wraps her in a blanket with Cas*
    All this stuff i happening and it is just…. wow.
    At least Lakra knows now that she needs someone *cough* *cough* Cass.

    This is was beautiful chapter and welcome back.


    Also, welcome back! Hope life is treating you well enough. ❤

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