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Now on tumblr - Chapter 2: Healers and Hypocrites

Here's the link to the full work (up to chapter 6 which was posted today!) but in the mean time here is chapter 2:

It was many hours later before he came to again, the light of the hells had dimmed outside, Taahir could guess it was night now, but it was rarely ever dark in the hells. Sunless skies burned endlessly in the hells. The throbbing pain had ebbed away, likely a residue of the tonic, but Taahir felt stiff and weak even still. In the corner of the room, Mesohphelus was sitting with a book in hand, evidently one from the bookshelf.

Taahir slowly managed to pull himself up, propped up by the headboard and framed by bandaged wings. He looked out past the window, and sighed softly, looking at the burning clouds, and crowded streets of a city foreign to him. "It's so loud here," He mumbled as he looked back at Mesohphelus.

"The noise will fade into the background eventually." They noted, not looking up from their book. The title read ' The Tale of Herasphus ' in Celestial, a famous angel warrior. "How do you feel?" They asked as they looked up at him.

“Terrible, absolutely terrible,” he admitted as tried to prop himself up on some of the pillows. “I can hardly feel anything but I ache.”

The book was set aside on a small table as they got up and moved to his bedside. "You should lay down, you have four broken ribs." They said with a calm but firm tone. "I'm sure it is quite a different experience to be unable to heal yourself."

“If I can, I'd prefer to sit up, the idea of laying in bed for weeks on end doesn’t agree with me I’m afraid,” he said with a tip of his head. “Thank you for all of your work Rghktahn .” He added softly. The word was foreign on his tongue, too soft and melodic compared to its true pronunciation, but filled with reverence.

At that, they smiled just a bit, perhaps sympathetically, but it was a smile all the same. "You will need to take breaks frequently at the very least." They offered instead, reaching up and pressing the back of their hand to his forehead to feel his temperature. "Not feverish so you're recovering well." They noted. On Taahir's arm was a well-wrapped bandage and splint. "You will need to keep yourself from using that for at least a few weeks, I have set the bones back properly so you should gain full usage eventually." They added to their report, seemingly with a small touch of pride.

She nodded a bit and smiled back slightly. “Do you have any other books in Celestial so I can pass the time?” She asked as she let the doctor look her over again.

They glanced back at the small bookshelf in the corner, a chair, table, and lamp had been arranged as well. "That bookshelf has a few celestial texts, it isn't uncommon for demons in greater power to keep a collection." They explained. "But I will bring some more for you, I've known angels to become bored to bits in recovery." They teased a bit.

“We are not taught to be still, it’s a sin to be slothful,” she replied with full honesty. “This is rest—not sloth, but still many struggle to find the difference.” She admitted as she felt a twinge of pain run through her splayed wings. “Feeling is coming back.”

"It will be a fitful few days." *They warned in full seriousness, reaching into the bedside table and pulling out a small box with capped vials. "These are sleeping draughts, they will help with the pain but mostly are so you can sleep through the night. One a night will do just fine but if you take multiple your body will reject it, vomiting for hours is not the most pleasant thing so please be responsible." They met his eyes. More than once had they witnessed an angel try and take a quick way out once entering the hells, it was a difficult and often traumatizing time for most who fall. They had grown used to seeing the full extent of what it could drive a being to do, but they were always careful.

“Understood,” she said softly, watching them set aside the box. “Are there others like me in the hells? Currently, I mean.” He asked after a moment’s pause.

"Angels who were thrown into the hells? Yes." They said as they began to collect the last of their things, the angel was stable now, they had done the most difficult part of their job.

“Well yes—but ones with their wings still. I know most who land in the hells simply fall. That’s what we have been taught,” she said softly. “Are we allowed to see one another—the winged ones I mean.” She pressed gently as she felt pain slowly come to life through her ribs.

"Most yes, the ones who were thrown, however, are oftentimes within a demon house." They explained. "It is the safest place to exist as an angel, you are granted certain protections." They paused for a moment. "Being a part of a demon house is not exclusively an angel's role, to be clear, I am of a demon Baron's house, I am granted certain protections and immunity because of it." They clarified, there was not much spoken on the hierarchical structures of the hells in the heavens.

“If there’s a book on the hells that might be useful to me,” he admitted as he slowly sunk back down into the bed properly. “I should rest—it’s getting difficult to think. Will you be staying here with the Warden for the time being?”

"I don't think a single book could begin to cover the workings of the hells." They admitted as they finished cleaning up, bringing a few books over to his bedside table. "I will not be far, you can request me. If you feel as if you lose sensation in your arm or hand," They gesture to his mess of bandages and splint. "Summon me immediately."

He nodded a bit and tucked himself in further, pain slowly starting to eat at him. “Thank you again, for everything,” he said softly before letting his wings cover his eyes and throat yet again, blocking out the hells as he let himself drift into sleep.

***

The days slipped by at a pace that was unbearable for the healing angel. He had battled a fever for the first few days, with Mesohphelus' aid, but now the aches and pain of healing was nearly inescapable. It had been a mere week since he had fallen, by his best estimate, but it felt like an age. It was midday, the room was quiet and still, only the sounds of the city far below kept him company when the door opened.

The demon, the warden who had taken Taahir in, stepped into the room with a toothy smile, having to duck through the doorway to keep his horns from scraping. Another, much smaller demon of red and orange followed in after him with a heavy book in her arms. The low, guttural hum of infernal filled the chamber as he spoke, something that was perhaps a greeting but it was hard to make out, until the smaller demon filled in what was missing.

"Good to see you awake, fallen one." The demon with a much less practiced celestial translated for the warden. Her voice off key for the melodic nature of the language. "I see our mender has done well for you."

Taahir did his best to keep the shock from his face. He had been reading when the demon made his appearance, doing his best to understand some of the new world he had found himself in, but he was not expecting a visitor. He was a guest in the Warden's house, it shouldn't be surprising that he would pay him a visit, but he had hoped for more time. "Mesohphelous has been very kind to me," he replied with a gracious tip of his head. "And thank you for translating for us as well," he added as he looked down at the other hellspawn.

She nodded as she fluidly translated back into infernal. Ak'thral smiled and let out a low chuckle. "Good, good, I am told you will need a few more weeks at least, but I could not help but pay a visit." He hummed his response in infernal, the translator doing her best to match his cadence. "Tell me, how are you handling the change? Is there anything that I can do to make you-" He paused as if to emphasize his point. "more comfortable?"

Taahir paused for a moment to think, his upper wings flexing slightly as he let his thoughts spin. In truth, all he really wanted was to be left alone. It was hard for him to think of anything worth asking for outside of that. Mesohphelous had left him with a tall stack of books on the hells and the varying cultures of the rings, and what life looked like in the higher rungs of society, he was fed and looked after, and any true comforts he had were caught amongst the clouds.

"The change has been difficult, to put it plainly, I am longing for comforts of home that you can not provide," She said softly as she looked back at the warden. "It has been hard to rationalize the fall, and while I have been healing well, the scope of my injuries is broader than I hoped. If I can ask for anything, I would be very grateful for a tutor in infernal. I think it is only proper that I learn the language of my new home."

Their reply seemed to please him greatly, a grin pulling wider against his sharp teeth. "Well," His translator spoke for him, "I think that is more than a fitting request. I will have the best tutor requested to aid you in joining us in the hells, we are all far from the monsters you might imagine." The warden laughed, amused perhaps at himself of all things. "I think you will grow to enjoy the change, I hear many fallen ones do." He added as he looked them over, taking in the splinted and bandaged body of the angel.

Taahir couldn't help looking away, his wings moving to shield his eyes from the warden slightly as he glanced down at his hands. He was attempting to keep his heart light as he found himself in the depths of a foreign place, but he couldn't help feeling the weight of the warden's words pulling at him like the dead weight of his true wings in his back. "I do not think that will be the case, Warden Ak'Thral. I do not think you a monster, but I do not think myself to be your guest either."

His barbed tail flicked slightly, but his smile remained. Taahir could see the translator tense as she completed her translation for him. "You will learn, the hells are more complex that you're told up in the clouds." He replied with what might have been a sympathetic look, though his eyes seemed more calculated, intentional.

Taahir sighed softly and fought to hold her tongue. She was not a fool, she knew the knowledge of angels on life in hell was limited, either with purpose or due to the very nature of the place. She hated the feeling of frustration that hummed through her, she hated that he seemed to talk down to her even through a translator. "If he is not being polite I wish for you to translate him directly," He spoke to the translator before settling himself further. "I do not pretend to be well educated on the hells, sadly that is not information most are privy to, even as a baron of the heavens. But I am learning, and I would encourage you to do the same concerning angels."

She did not speak their request, but did return the Warden's reply. "Change is inevitable, but it is not the heavens I am stepping into is it?" He said as he began to move back towards the door. "Be well, fallen one, I hope to see your recovery swift."

Taahir let him go without another word and returned to her reading. If they were above she would outrank him, the wardens seemed to be demons who had risen through the ranks of hellspawn and gained wealth and power through their own merit. It was admirable but difficult to swallow. The idea of being subservient to any creature made her skin crawl more than anything, but a lesser demon trying his best to corrupt her felt a step too far.

***

The monthly meeting of Warden Ak’Thral’s generals has always been a far more casual affair than most other Wardens preferred. They met privately to discuss their territories and possible plans for expansion, or border struggles, but once that well dried they were quickly distracted by the gossip of the ring itself. Today was no different.

“I heard the Warden has taken another mistress,” General Ragurne hummed over the rim of his glass. The group had long since given up on business and leisure had quickly taken over the mood.

Xamar looked up over his glass with an arched brow. "Another? Did he fail to make the last one finish again?" He asked bluntly, though a smile crept on the corners of his lips.

Valde'an chuckled lazily. "He grows more impatient every year." They said with a shake of their head.

“I doubt he’s been truly successful in any of his endeavors,” General Guaor hummed back. She was one of the older demons of the bunch, holding her title for a few decades after her father’s retirement. “But I have heard his recent attempted conquest is a rare beauty.”

Than'asul set down her glass and leaned back in her chair, her scarlet eyes watching the general with curiosity. "What had you heard, Guaor?" She asked curiously, the pair of them were the longest standing of the group, and fast friends when Guaor had stepped up into the role of general.

“Best guess is it’s a demon from another ring, the staff says they’re damn near angelic,” she said with a sigh before taking a drink. “Wasted on the warden if that’s true.”

A smile quirked at the edge of her lips. "One could say that." She hummed, pouring herself a drink. "But the Mender has paid a visit to Ak'thral." The fine drink warmed her throat like the breath of a great dragon as she let the news sink in for her fellow generals.

Xamar found himself unable to move, an angel under the warden's house? This he could have never predicted, but suddenly the news from a few days ago of an angel falling onto the disputed border within the city, everything lined up, and the Mender would never make a visit like that unwarranted. "Has he said anything to any of us? I couldn't imagine a conquest such as that something he could keep quiet about."

“He’s said fuck all to me,” Ragurne, replied, gripping his glass ever tighter. “I bet he’s stayed quiet because he fears a challenger for the bird.”

Valde’an rolled their eyes. “I’d bet it’s because it will take him so long to finish the job that he needs a head start before challengers arrive to have a fair chance.”

Than'asul sighed and nodded in agreement. "If anyone were to be told first, it would have been myself, but he had been tight lipped. I assume the fallen one is badly damaged, the Mender returned yesterday, and the day before at the very least."

"They must still have their wings." Xamar said almost idly, deep in thought. This could change things drastically if he was not careful. If the Warden was able to corrupt an angel with power it could ascend him to a greater rank, pulling him farther from Xamar's grasp. The thought made him grip his glass tighter.

“Clearly, otherwise The warden wouldn’t bother. No warden has time to bother with a true fallen,”. Gauor said with a heavy sigh. “This is going to be trouble whatever way it goes, don’t you agree Xamar?”

"Undoubtedly, I could not think of a more ill-equipped warden to handle an affair like this, he babbles under pressure from other wardens, what would he possibly do if a keeper took notice?" He pointed out with a tactful glance around at his fellow generals. While he was one of the newest, and the most contested by some of them at his first arrival, he had proven himself to be worthy of the role in their collective eyes.

“That kind of power doesn’t belong in a fool’s hands.” Valde’an agreed with a sigh. “I would be surprised if he survives a week after the news fully breaks.” She said as she picked at her nails.

“So what are we to do about it? Personally I don’t wish to see my territory fall due to another warden’s take over.” Guaor said with a sigh.

"For now, we should let things lie quietly, the worst thing to happen would be if the news spread too quickly. If anything, the angel is under sanctuary now, it would be a cursed act for another demon to take them now." Xamar said, finishing his drink and setting it down on the table. "We will wait, and then, if necessary, we will plan to protect Ak'thral's wardenship to keep our territories."

Than'asul dipped her head in agreement, there was an understanding in her eyes that sung to her wisdom, as if she sensed what was coming.

“I’d hate to see the bastard keep an Angel,” Ragurne muttered over another long drink. “I mean he didn’t even earn his wardenship, and now he gets to claim wings for himself? Fate loves to wipe his ass for him.”

"I suspect that he'll grow tired of them if he can't corrupt them quickly." Valde'an said with a roll of their eyes. "He's a flighty demon, and he knows his power is limited beyond the title. Once others begin to take notice he's failing, someone else will likely make an offer if anything." Their tail flicked in annoyance at the whole affair.

"We will see what the coming weeks will bring." Than'asul said, looking over the other demons. "We are not only the holders of territory under Ak'thral, but we are pieces of his council, if he holds any wisdom at all, he will confide in us quickly, once the flames have settled."

“Doubtful.” Guaor replied. “We all know he holds little stock in our opinion, we are simply there to do his job for him and clean up any messes he’s left behind. He’s making a mess now, he won’t call on us until it’s time to clean it.”

Xamar let the other generals continue on, but his mind was running through what this meant for him. He couldn't afford to slow down even for a moment now, not at risk of even more eyes being on the warden and himself. An angel in the territory meant trouble, or opportunity in the right hands.

***

Days ticked away slower and slower for the Angel as his healing progressed. The first week flowed like water, and now the second was more like mud. Taahir wished they could sleep through it all. The slow aches of pain that washed through his body now were dull but persistent. His company couldn’t communicate with him, and his wealth of books had begun to run dry. He had even taken to the slow work of translating infernal novels to celestial a word at a time, just to make the too long days go by faster. Time lingered in the hells, days stretched hours longer than they did in the heavens, and the ever burning heat didn’t let him forget that fact.

Today was like any other. He awoke to stillness and he pulled a book into his lap to read.

The unending bustle of the city below still kept him company, a large expansive market had been arranged for the day, this was the second of this scale that Taahir had seen, it was easy enough to assume it was a regular occurrence for the demons below. His reading, though, was cut short by a curt knock at the door, Mesohphelus right on time as he had grown used to.

“Good morning Rghktahn ,” Taahir said with a respectful tip of his head. They had come to find peace in the demon’s visits. It was far better than the unending stillness of the day, and they were decent company unlike the staff that couldn’t understand a word he said.

"Good morning," they greeted as they stepped inside, closing the door behind them. "You did not sleep well." They noted a touch bluntly at they looked her over. There was something of a charm to them, how they took their work seriously, but still seemed to hold a genuine kindness in the way they regarded her.

“I haven’t the past few days,” she replied plainly as she set aside her book. “Your days last too long and your nights are somehow too short,” she said with a soft sigh.

"Our nights and days matter less than in your plane, yes." They agreed as they went to unpack their things. "Has breathing grown easier for you yet?" The hit air had laid heavy in the bottom of Taahir's lungs for the first few days, like it was revolting against his very being. But, since then, he had grown more adjusted.

“Slowly, but it still takes effort,” he admitted as he leaned back against the headboard. “I worry how much my lungs might struggle when I am allowed activity again.”

"The adjustment takes years for some angels, but most I have known do find in time they can manage fine." Mesohphelus assured as they began to unbandage and inspect his broken arm. The pale skin had turned a mix of greens and blues, with yellow along the edges of the worst damage. Taahir had never seen such a lasting wound on any angel, much less himself. "You are healing very well though, it is time to remove your stitches." They noted as they took out a few of their instruments and prepared a fresh set of bandages.

“It looks terrible,” he grimaced as he watched them prepare, letting his arm rest in his lap. “It doesn’t even look like skin anymore, it’s horrible,” he said as he couldn’t help but stare. Pain was a near foreign concept in the heavens, the Angels healed swiftly, and few things in the clouds could hurt them, so the slow drudgery of recovery was wholly new.

"The miracle of a living body is in a few weeks, all of this will be faded away." They hummed as they to to work, carefully snipping and pulling away the neat stitches, much to Taahir's surprise, they did not hurt to be pulled free, but he could see that faint scar from the operation still needed more time to heal.

“I am thankful for that at least,” he said softly as he watched Mesohphelous work. “I am beginning to run out of books I’m afraid,” he hummed as he patiently waited for the demon to finish. “And the warden paid me a visit.”

They paused for a moment, hands stilling before they continued again. "I told him not to do so." They said plainly, disapproving in their voice. "What did he say?" The stitches had been pulled away and replaced with a salve that left his skin feeling cooler to the touch.

“He played host for the most part, but failed in being hospitable,” Taahir replied as he looked down at the paste. “Am I still not allowed to move my arm, or is it finished healing?”

"You have a long way to go yet, the flesh has healed, but bone takes longer." They explained as they began to wrap his arm in fresh bandages. The demon was always very patient when discussion Taahir's questions, there was no assumptions laid on him to understand what he had never been exposed to before. "You must let it rest, for at least another few weeks." They added as they worked. "What did he offer you?"

“He didn’t offer me anything, he just asked if I needed anything. I asked for a tutor in infernal,” she replied, wincing ever so slightly as the bandage was wound. “Thankfully he has honored my request.”

"Good," The wrappings were finished and the splints were returned to his arm. Mesophelus' brow was pinched, deep in a thought they decided not to share with Taahir. "I am keeping your arm braced so you are free to move the rest of yourself without fear of breaking your arm again, the bones are set but fragile at this stage."

“Well thankfully for you, with my wings in their current state it’s not like I am able to really do more than sit and read, so there’s not much I can do to break it again,” She said with a soft sigh. Her wings were still stuck outstretched, a mess of splints and pins sticking out amongst the remaining convert feathers to keep the shattered bones in place. The wings of the fallen took far longer to heal than any other bone, truly needing the heavens to help the process along for it to happen with any speed.

They nodded, finishing with their arm and doing a look over their tattered wings. "Yes, you said you were running out of books? I will bring you more." They said, offering him a bit of a smile. "A fulfilled mind will make the healing go faster."

“It will,” he agreed with a soft sigh. “If you have anything on demon society I would be truly grateful to you. I find myself even more out of my depth than I originally believed. It’s so different from the heavens, there’s far more interactions—mobility of your castes, long held traditions that aren’t even close to ours. They teach you that the hells are our mirror, but it’s not true past the first pages of any honest book on the subject.”

"No, I have found that at some point long ago, our two planes diverged greatly from one another." They agreed as they finished their work, packing up their supplies once again. "I have always been fascinated by the rigidity of the heavens, books here do not suffice just as how I assume it is for you with the hells. I will find you some more to read on the subject, though once your infernal tutoring begins, I expect you will have many more opportunities open for your exploration."

“That is my hope as well, I can only assume the writings in celestial are limited at best,” he replied with an understanding smile. “If you are curious of the heavens, I would be willing to answer any questions you might have—I was a Baron so I was granted more knowledge than those below me, I think it would be useful in your line of work to know more.”

At that, a curious smile found their features. "I would, I have spent a long time learning, but my research is neverending." They admitted. "The heavens themselves don't offer themselves up willingly to me all that often."

“Well I didn’t expect them to, it’s not like we have visitors to the cloud tops. Sometimes we get a stray planar wanderer, but outside of that, I haven’t heard of us truly reaching out for connections,” she explained as she leaned back into the pillars. “I’m curious what of us have you learned thus far?”

"Eleven books worth, though it still feels as if I'm only scratching the surface of something immeasurable." They replied honestly. "Mostly from the accounts of those like you, the ones I tend to when they arrive. Many share their stories, what brought them here, and I learn. It wasn't until I first walked among your people that I truly began to understand how different we were." They met her eyes, as if they were trying to read her. Was Mesohphelus implying they had been to the heavens?

“You’ve been in the cloudtops before? I’ve never heard of a demon being invited to join us above.” She said softly, her thoughts racing slightly as she tried to process all of this. “Who housed you, during your visit—which principality?”

"Justice, primarily, you could imagine why they might be the most willing." They answered honestly as they regarded her. "They keep my visits a quiet thing, their reasoning being that they do not want to disturb the peaceful population, though I know well enough that most are not even aware demons can enter the heavens."

“I knew it was a possibility, historically we have discussed treaties and such on the cloud top, but those have largely gone undisputed so there was no need to welcome infernal beings to the cloud top. I am surprised to hear you’ve been able to visit more than once—what grants you such access? According to my reading you have the traits of peasantry, unless you are hiding a true form.” She rambled on as she tried to wrap her head around the new information.

They smiled a bit, amused yes, but patient all the same as she was beginning to understand the hells. "Have you read of offerings yet?" The question did not come from a place of judgment, they only sought to open doors for the ones they tended to.

“I have read a chapter on them, but I do not understand why they are so necessary in a household? I cast no judgment—it just seems to be a display of lust, excess, and pride for your noble classes.” He said as his brows knit together.

"Perhaps some time walking amongst demons will help you see beyond the texts, as walking amongst angels did for me." They said with a slight smile. "Sometimes it takes experience to really understand a world so totally opposite in so many ways." They made a point to finally close their bag, standing up from the stool they had pulled over.

“Of course,” he said with a polite tip of his head. “Thank you again for your work and patience Rghktahn, it is truly appreciated in my time of need.”

"Thank you in turn for your company, it is a privilege to be of service." They hummed in reply, dipping their head to him as they went to leave. "I wish you luck with your lessons, I have been told it is... a chore to learn." They added with some hint of amusement as they stepped out.

Taahir smiled slightly at that, maybe he would find a friend in the hells after all.

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