Page 72 of Wrath's Call

“How do you do it?” He answered my question with a question of his own, a frustrating habit I hoped I could break.

“I don’t know - I just do,” I replied succinctly. I didn’t intend to sound flippant, but I knew it would have come across that way.

“Well, I know how I can,” he answered, leaning back on his forearms to stare up at the blackness above us.

“Going to tell the class?” I asked, leaning back to lounge the way he did.

“No.” I couldn’t help the rising disappointment. “I’d rather show you.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Trek of the Humble

Aeryn

The scents of excrement, sour swill and dirt immediately assaulted my nose. The world around me was gray and brown, filth clinging to every surface surrounding Marik and me. Before us dozens of prone bodies knelt in the mud, their necks bowed in humble obeisance. Somewhere nearby a baby cried, swiftly silenced with a gurgling wail that ended just as abruptly as its cry had. My mind immediately rebelled against what that sound must have meant, the thought abhorrent to every inch of my soul.

Surrounding the humans were a series of angels, their wings myriad pale pastel shades. All were close to white, but many held a slight hue of another color. In contrast to the world around them their wings were utterly pristine, not a single drop of mud staining the perfect plumes.

There was only one set of wings, however, that captured my eyes and held them. They belonged to the angel at the head of the group, his golden hair and olive skin the perfect contrast to the true bright white of his wings. They nearly glowed in their utter perfection, not a single filament discolored.

But his face did not match the perfection of the wings he spread wide from his back. While beautiful, his face was utterly emotionless, even as he raised his left hand and offered a small wave.

“Archangel Vitus,” Marik said, noticing where my attention had been drawn.

The crack of a whip rang out, startling many in the crowd. Two dared to raise their heads, their eyes briefly searching for the sound before lowering once more.

Vitus waved his hand again and two of the guards surrounding the humans spread their wings and took flight, grabbing both humans before dragging their weak bodies away. Two death cries were heard from the trees, but no one else so much as stirred.

I counted less than fifty people in the crowd now. But there must have been more from the spaces between the remaining individuals like chasms.

“There had been four hundred at the start,” Marik said, staring out at the crowd.

“Why were they killed?” I asked, the breath leaching away with my words.

Marik turned his attention to the side, where a boy remained slung between two posts. Behind him stood another angel with light brown hair and wings nearly as pale as Vitus’ own. He held a long leather whip in his hands, poised over his shoulder to strike.

Minutes passed as the boy struggled, the blood that ran down his body in streams slowing and finally ceasing. Once they did, the Angel swung his arm forward again multiple times, leaving multiple lacerations across the boy’s body. I looked at where the cuts lay on the boy’s bloodied face before looking up at the demon beside me.

They perfectly matched.

“That was you,” I said, unable to keep the awe from my voice.

“Yes,” he replied, his fingers clenching into fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

I reached for him without thinking, circling my fingers around his hand. He didn’t relax his hold, but he didn’t move either.

Blood continued to run down the boy’s body, but it didn’t stop this time. Silver began to sparkle through the blood, and I sensed that I was seeing something I shouldn’t.

“What is going on here?” I asked, wanting nothing more than to reach out to the boy - Marik - and heal him.

“This is the Trek of the Humble,” Marik replied. “The true trek. Four hundred humans of the humility line went out, only forty-seven returned.”

“Why?” my voice shook on the word.

“Because Vitus wanted to teach the only Earthbound archdemon humility.”

I stared up at him as he finally looked down at me. His irises burst with a flare of wrath, the irises rippling in the pattern of flames.

“You’re an archdemon,” I said stupidly, unable to say anything intelligent at that moment.

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