#one hour unedited blorbo for working on past verse stuff

[necr0-mantix]

// Character Study Drabble: The Meeting

“MY DECREE IS LAW. YOU BEING MY SPAWN DOES NOT EXCUSE YOU FROM IT.”

The other nephalem sheltered behind him, basking - trembling - in awe at the angel that had invaded their sanctum. The light of Inarius’s wings was blinding in the dark of the underground temple, and it seemed that Linarian was the only one who could handle his intensity. He could not blame his students, however. They were younger and had not blossomed to their potential, and Inarius was an overwhelming being to behold.

His father’s intentions were hard to sense, but he felt rage; a rage unlike any he had empathized from the angel prior. And he had felt so much of the negativity Inarius had bottled over the years. This was… new.

Lilith’s betrayal had cut what remained of his father's heart deep.

“Father, I am but a humble scholar. I-” “SILENCE.”

He would obey. For now. 

Bowing his head in a show of respect, Linarian’s eyes would glance behind him, his fingers wrapped around the youngest of his student’s - a raven-haired male no more than a decade of winter’s age - to assure him of something. Anything. He could not confess, nor show, that this had unsettled him deeply as well, and to say that it would be okay was a lie he was not willing to give.

“THIS ORDER OF YOURS SHALL DISBAND IMMEDIATELY.” bellowed Inarius, his hand gesturing over the small band of students, “YOUR FOUL MAGICS ARE A RISK TO THIS WORLD.”

“A risk?” Linarian sputtered, “I-I am a healer! How is any of thi-” “I COMMANDED SILENCE AND OBEDIENCE , WHELP.”

And silent he would be once more. 

News from the surface found its way underground quite swiftly, and the recent happenings after the death of the ancestors was no exception. Inarius had already spilled the blood of the First that had defied him, and should he speak out of line, he could likely be next. It was surprising that he was not the first, however. The angel held no love for him despite having helped birth him, and he could sense no love nor hesitation even now. Linarian’s stomach churned with anxiety about the angel for the first time in many circles of the moon.

“It shall be as you wish, father.” he would lie hushed. Normally, he would protest, but not at the risk of the others. This was not their typical disagreeance over the matters of Sanctuary, this was something far more dire, and he could and would only press once they were alone.

All he could do was turn to offer his followers a reassuring smile, a gentle nod. The eldest of the group would know his intention - they had spoken of potential emergencies prior - and the rest would come to know and find where to gather away from prying eyes. All that mattered was allowing them to escape, even if Inarius seemed to have no wanting for them.

The sound of metal striking stone reverberated through the sanctum as Inarius stepped forwards instead of simply flying, stopping to stand beside Linarian without expression. The holy one’s cloaked face, devoid of anything as with all angels, would glance down upon the child that clung to Linarian’s side, and he would let out an echo of a sigh — long and exasperated.

“IS THIS ONE OF YOUR BLOOD?” 

A terrifying question. The child shook, and Linarian could do nothing more than hold his hand to comfort quietly. Even a mere question intimidated himself at such an age.

“No. He is not. None of my children are here. Nor my partners. I am the only one of my family here.”

“GOOD. THE RABBLE MAY LEAVE. I WISH TO SPEAK TO MY SON, ALONE.”

The communal tide of relief was euphoric.

But the sensation of goodbye? He could feel it from some of the others as their eyes met his, some with tears welling. He did not know that as he bowed his head, his too were dampened with confusion and fear. For goodbyes were not supposed to be hard for their kind, and yet, this one felt as if it could be more than so. It was so very hard to tell.

He would fight with words to ensure it wasn’t.

Ushering the child towards one of his most trusted, he would watch as they scattered. Some went the direction of the surface, and others would make their way deeper into the caverns under the temples. It did not matter where so long as it was not here. They would find their way, and so long as they obeyed his father, he would not come to harm them. Inarius, much as his mother, enjoyed their worship, at the least, and would bask in it for as long as possible.

It was once the scurried footsteps ceased that Inarius would speak once more, prompting Linarian’s mournful state to melt to a blank slate of sheer apathy, mentally preparing himself for an exchange he knew would be far more pressing than their former ones. 

“THE WORLD IS MINE AND MINE ALONE NOW,” the angel would begin, his arms and wings outstretched in celebration, “AND THAT MEANS IT’S FUTURE AND YOU AND YOUR OFFSPRING’S SURVIVAL HAS COME TO MY DECISION,”

A horrific statement, but Linarian would listen without any acknowledgement.

“YOUR STUDY. I HAD PAID ATTENTION, CHILD. YOU ARE OF THE WORLD, AND THUS, THE WORLD STONE AFFECTS YOU JUST AS IT AFFECTS THE WORLD.” What had he done? There was no possible way to mask his curiosity — a brow cantered, and his head would nod just once. He had discovered that, yes. They were dirt, as Inarius had so called them several times; molded from the very clay of Sanctuary itself. It was the most basic of observations, and one of his first dealing with matters of their deaths.

“IF YOUR KIN ARE TO THRIVE IN MY WORLD, THEY SHALL NOT HOLD POWER THAT WOULD ATTRACT EYES FROM HELL NOR HEAVEN. AND THUS, I HAVE ENSURED IT TO BE SO. YOUR KIND HAS BEEN SPARED BY MY BLESSING.”

“...what… did you do?” Linarian questioned with a rasping hiss, his heart pounding with a swelling anger that rivaled the angel’s own from just moment’s prior.

“YOU DO NOT PAY ATTENTION. THE WORLD STONE. I HAVE USED IT. ARE YOU TOO DENSE TO HAVE NOT NOTICED HOW THE POWERS OF THE OTHERS HAVE CHANGED? ALL BUT YOU AND YOUR SIBLINGS."

He had noticed. And he had noticed the deaths of some his siblings as well. He had felt the sting continually through the week before the news had been relayed to him from above, but the reason had not reached him until not long before his father’s arrival. Death happened, and he mourned each time he had felt it over the years when he could not visit, but it was clear Inarius was to fault. The betrayal was not unexpected, but he could not show the pain outwardly, and suppressed it even now for his own welfare.

“Yes, father. But, what good is stripping us of our power for? That is our birthright, and all we have built is-”

“YOUR. SAFETY.”

“I do not understand. Is this about your fear of being discovered? Again, what good would having us be weak do? Are we not to defend ourselves? What is there t-” “YOU DO NOT LISTEN WELL, AS USUAL. YOU ARE ALL ABOMINATIONS. IF YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN BEASTS, YOU WILL NOT IRK THE IRE OF-”

“Who? Yourself? Are you to say that all of your kind, and all of mother’s, would find us as revolting? If we are even to be found?”

The searing heat of Inarius’s golden wing wrapped around his torso, lifting him from the ground as if he were nothing more than a doll. He could easily tear through the tendril and free himself - his strength had not diminished in the slightest - but he did not. He chose not to. There was no sense, at this time, in struggling. The nephalem’s anxiety still stirred within him, but he would not show it still, he could not.

“IF. IF YOU ARE TO BE FOUND, YOU ARE TO SURVIVE. THAT IS ALL THAT MATTERS. THAT IS WHAT YOUR DAMNED MOTHER WANTED, AND DESPITE HER BETRAYAL, I WILL HONOR HER LAST WISH AS IT IS ONE AND MINE THE SAME.” 

The grip tightened. And it was a grasp far more intense than any he had been held in prior during the angel’s bouts. The crack of rib would make Linarian wince in pain and bleed from the mouth, enough to signal for the angel to drop him to his knees. There was no aura of regret for the seemingly accidental exertion; Linarian would heal, and he did as he always had. It only took seconds for him to regain his breath, and for the bone to mend under flesh. It only took a moment longer for him to resume his argument after spitting aside the blood, trying not to distract himself with the taste of it lingering.

“I understand that-” “GOOD.” “But what of my kind? What of me? Am I not to aid my kin? And of my studies, I am so close to breakthroughs! To understanding how our souls work!” “NOT WITH YOUR POWERS. TEND TO YOUR POISONS AND MEDICINES IF YOU WILL. WATCH YOUR DEAD ROT. I CARE NOT. YOU WILL DO NOTHING THAT INDICATES THAT YOU HAVE THE POWER YOU DO. I WILL NOT ASK AGAIN.”

“Bu-”

It seemed that Inarius would not debate him this time, even for entertainment and the chance of lecturing him as was in years past. Two wings would unfurl this time, one wrapping around his neck and the other his ribs again, and a sword of light would be summoned to his hand with an instantaneous flash and hum. It pointed at him, unwavering.  And as the tendril seared exposed flesh, Linarian felt death approaching him, his eyes settled on his father’s blade with a dread that he had only felt through other’s before in their final moments.

Inarius fully intended to kill should he not submit. But kill him he had not. The angel kept his son in the torturous state for seconds that felt like minutes, tossing Linarian this time to the cold ground with monstrous force. It was a warning, and one that he was now listening to closely.

The nephalem felt himself grow limp; he was left paralyzed in a pool of his own blood, even if only temporarily. His thoughts grew quiet. Nobody, not even he, could continue under the duress of such pain.

“I WILL DO UNTO YOU AS I HAVE DONE THE OTHERS THAT HAVE DEFIED ME. DO NOT CONTINUE TO BE A DISAPPOINTMENT TO ME, CHILD.”

And with that, it seemed Inarius was done. The sword would disappear from whence it came, and the angel would turn his back, taking one glance back upon his child, who in turn, could barely manage to make out his father’s actions under the haze of blurring vision. Linarian would attempt to reach forwards without thought, but could not muster more than a twitch as the angel’s wings outstretched once more, propelling him forwards to leave the temple, and his son, in complete and utter silence. The debate was over as quickly as it had attempted to be began.

The first thing, other than pain as his senses began to spur once more, the nephalem could feel was more death from the far distances of their world. Inarius had gone to speak to the others.

And arguments were ensuing, and ending swiftly. One after another. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.