Relic Of The Fallen (Chapter 2)

A continuation from chapter 1.

A Tentative Offer

It began with fire. Without provocation, the demons poured forth from the blackened badlands, fueled by envy and rage. They desecrated holy
land, shattered cities, and slaughtered the innocent. Their unprovoked cruelty tore through the world like a plague. The Order of the Sun's
Crescent declared the First Flame a divine trial. Thus is the beginning of humanity’s Century of Blaze.
– The Book Of Divine Acts, Words of Elder Marin 1st Discourse, 2nd Sermon

"What would I say to the possibility of reviving my people?" She repeated the question back to him, her tone filled with incredulity.
Yet, hope stirred in her chest. Could it actually be possible?
No. It can't be. This must be an attempt for him to get a rise out of her. She had been purposefully distant towards him. Ever since his overly
emphasized apology to her, she had chosen not to speak to him more. He must be trying to break the long silence.

And yet. There was that day in the market eight years ago;

They had come into town for some food supplies; he had not caught any animals, and the wild fruits and vegetables were not enough to sustain them.
He was carrying all of the supplies, as he would not ask nor command her to carry anything. And she would not offer, nor grab them from his hands to
help ease the load.
She was following behind him, five paces back, her head down. She didn't lower her gaze out of fear; she was taller and stronger than any human that
ever existed. She only did it as a means of keeping her emotions in check.

The humans in the market always had many differing reactions to her presence; ranging from caution, to indifference, to hatred. Yet, there was never
fear. She was the last demon alive, but also the captive of the "Boy Saviour", so perhaps they all felt safe because of his dominion over her will.
/What a stupid nickname. There was a soft chorus of praises, whispered prayers, gratitude, and even full-blown worship at times, all geared
towards her captor.

Not one year ago, he was waving, shaking hands, and giving greetings; Constantly playing the role of a hero.

Now, he never responded. Ever since she had led him to understand the extent of his transgression, he now behaved as though he bore the weight of the
world on his shoulders alone. Because he did. She made sure he did.

Yet, he never told them to stop. Was it out of kindness; trying to keep their fragile hopes and faith alive? Or was it out of fear? Fear that if he openly
expressed remorse, the people would turn on him?

He stopped abruptly and she walked into him, but her body absorbed the full shock of impact; his command for her to not physically harm his was still in
effect.

"Did you hear that?" He asked, his voice quiet. Anxious. Like he was hearing the ghosts of the dead.

She raised her eyes, easily glancing across the expanse of the marketplace. "Hear what? The market is loud and crowded. I was hardly able to hear you
just now." Her own voice held a touch of annoyance. It was hard enough to stay calm in the midst of all these humans without being stopped in the
center of them.

He snapped his head to the left. "Over there." He pointed. A command for her to pinpoint the location of his interest.

Automatically, her body obeyed without hesitation. She was once again a prisoner in her own mind. She could do nothing but observe as her body
moved and acted on it's own; She glanced in the direction of his gesture, her eyes focusing intensely as her ears perked up, searching for sounds specific
in that direction.

She heard a faint voice whispering in hushed and frantic tones; "…Fallen Relic…".

"That." He said again, his voice tense. "Where are they?"

Once again, her body moved mechanically. She pointed in the direction of the voice. He immediately marched off.

"Follow." Another command. She snapped to attention and trailed after him. Her chest swelled with indignation. She was already following him. She
trailed behind him; now seven paces instead of five, a small form of defiance.

He gave no indication that he even noticed her little display. He just continued hastily moving towards the traders. As he reached them, he immediately
struck up a conversation.

She continued following slowly, noticing the expression of the trader shift to anxiety and unease. As she walked up, now standing directly behind the
"Saviour of Humanity", the trader glanced in her direction. The blood drained from his face.

"Alright. Alright. No need to bring that into this." He eyed her, sheer terror overcoming his expression. She probably should have felt offense at the way
he referred to her as an object, but she only found slight amusement at his terror. She chuckled to herself. Now that was the proper reaction for a
human to give her.

She caught the tail end of the conversation as she let her amusement fade. "There are records… In the archives…" He glanced back and forth, as though
an unseen force was listening in to the conversation. She glanced around too. The rest of the humans were giving them a wide berth, presumably
because of her intimidating presence. At least she got to scare one human today.

"…Scattered and hidden, you will need help from Elder Snorm." The trader finished.

Her captor took a shaky breath, just as he shook the hand of the trader. "Thank you for the information." The 17 year old turned to look at her, and she
looked back at him, curious. This was the first time he even tried to meet her gaze since his guilt-ridden breakdown. For the first time in a year, he looked
at her with something other than regret and sorrow. His countenance radiated something that could only be described as… Hope. He was smiling.

His expression was contagious. She felt… Odd. She softened a bit, and returned his smile for a second, before she cleared all emotion from her face
again.

"I suppose that we should go back to the market and repurchase food…" His smile turned sheepish, and she finally noticed that he wasn't carrying any of
the supplies they had previously gathered. She shook her head in exasperation. Careless fool. Yet, she hadn't noticed the obvious lack of supplies either,
so, could she chide him for it? Not unless she wanted to chastise herself as well.

"Yes. We should." She gestured for him to lead as usual.

He started walking off toward the food stalls. Once again, She waited for him to be five paces ahead before she trailed behind.

For the second time today, the child abruptly stopped. This time she was watching, so she didn't run in to him.
"Hey…" His voice was quiet, tentative. He didn't turn around, but she knew he was talking to her. She braced herself, expecting another command.
"Would you…" He drew a breath. "Would you walk next to me?"

"What?" She was startled. No command. No forced actions on her will. He was actually making a request? She hadn't believed him capable of such a
thing. She spoke louder, voicing objections that she assumed would affect him the most. "Why? You're not worried about the other humans eyeing you?
It's improper for the 'Saviour' to treat his captive with any respect, let alone an equal."

His voice grew lower and she had to strain to hear his response. "Just… Please…" Again, not a command. A hesitant and vulnerable plea for her to be
next to him.

A small bit of compassion stirred in her chest. She realized; being amongst the large crowd of people had as much an effect on him as it did her… Albeit
in different ways.

"Alright." She agreed to his request, a sliver of sympathy entering her chest. What an odd thing, to treat him with a small form of sympathy willingly.
But then, sympathy can only truly be given willingly.

She walked next to him. As they gathered new supplies, he once again made sure to carry everything. The load slowly started making him struggle. For a
time, she let him struggle. But as they bought from the last stall, she bent over and grabbed half of the supplies from him, lightening his load. He
protested. She ignored him.

It was the first act of true sympathy she had shown him.

She shook her head, the brief moments of reliving the market experience sending new waves of compassion through her. She again smiled.
Brief, fleeting. But still, it was genuine.
Stop it.
She forced the emotion back down. Caging it. Locking it away.

She stared at him again. Met his eyes. "Is this what you have been searching for these past eight years? A way to revive my people..?"

He nodded once. A smile entered his expression. "Eight years since the day at the market…" He trailed off, his eyes going distant, As though he
were watching the same memory that she had just experienced.

He shook his head as he came back to himself and focused his gaze on her once again. "Look at this passage." It wasn't a command, merely an
invitation. So she didn't step forward to take it, opting instead to stay across the room.

"Alright…" He sighed. "I'll read it to you." He slowly brought the text up to his face to read, but only just enough to read. He made sure that he
could still see her in his peripherals. He didn't want to be frightened by her again, else she may come to enjoy doing it.

"Two halves." He recited, "Divine and Fallen. Harmony by twin will. Dominion by fractured soul. Restoration by union."

She looked at him, unimpressed by the statement. "Yes? And?"

He sighed once again. "You don't remember the market? I thought for sure you would…" His expression dropped. Disappointed. It was such a
significant day, in more ways than one.

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. Of course she remembered. "Yes, yes. The marketplace eight years ago. You dominated my will as a means of
locating a trader whispering about insubstantial drivel." Her voice was annoyed, unimpressed. Accusatory.

He looked at her, a bit annoyed himself. Of course that was the detail she'd latch onto. "It's not 'insubstantial drivel.'" He whispered
defensively, trying to not let his annoyance show. "And I gave that command by reflex… It wasn't intentional." His voice grew quieter. "I
apologized already…" He shook his head. "We're getting off topic."

His voice grew more urgent. "I've found evidence that the Fallen Relic exists. This passage refers to it. It's the other half of the Divine Relic."

She eyed him, still skeptical. "Old texts have many things that don't actually exist. Like dragons."

He scoffed at her statement. "OK. First thing; dragons exist." He said insistently.

She grinned despite herself, "So you've seen a dragon?"

He looked down, his voice getting quiet. "No… Not in real life… But I've read enough to be respectful." He looked back at her, a newfound smirk
gracing his lips, "Besides, the texts that speak about dragons are the same texts that speak about the Divine Relic. So I'd say they have merit."

"Also," He took the Relic out of his coat and held it up, showing it's gleaming surface, despite the low light in the room. It always seemed to
glimmer, no matter how little light was around, as though it took what little light was available, and amplified it. Almost like it was the source
of light, not the reflector of it.

He gestured at. "Do you see this shape? It's like the sun in the middle of a solar eclipse. The arc of it's crescent is such that it looks like half of
the full circle is missing." He paused. "I bet that if we measured it, that exactly half would be missing."

"So you've seen a solar eclipse?" She asked, echoing her earlier question, though this time she didn't have a playful tone. She had been alive
much longer than he had. The last solar eclipse she remembered was one year before the Hundred Year War with humanity had started. It was
seen as a dark omen among her people. If only they knew just how dark the following year would be.

"Again, no… But I've read about them, and the books showed what an eclipse would look like."

He held the Relic out for her to hold.

She hesitated, as if touching it might burn her. Or worse.
But she grabbed it. Cringing.

Nothing happened. She didn't burn, didn't burst into flame. Despite the light being shed from it's surface, it was cool to the touch, as though it
captured no heat.
She ran her hand over it. The top, if it was the top, did indeed look like what was left of a sun mid-eclipse. She turned it over. The other side
was smooth and reflective, like a mirror.

She looked into it. And found no reflection. Just the dim light of the room behind her.

"The backside does not show me…" She whispered, anxiety crawling it's way up her spine. She forced the feeling away, crushing it with
annoyance.

He looked at her, incredulous. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that it does not show my reflection." She said again, her tone implying that she was getting impatient. "I cannot see my face in it.
Almost as though it refuses to acknowledge my existence." She handed the thing back to him, her demeanor radiating disgust for the item. If
it didn't see her, then she no longer wanted to see it.

He held it in front of his face. Sure enough, there was his reflection. "It shows my reflection just fine." He motioned for her to look again.

She moved behind him. She still did not see herself, but she was able to see his face rather clearly. "All I see is you." But her voice grew quiet
and reserved. It lacked the sharp bite that he had come to expect from her.

"I can see both you and myself." He replied, confusion entering his tone. "Are you sure that you don't see yourself?"

"I'm positive." She said flatly, looking into it again. The only figure she saw was him.

Yet, the man in the reflection was not the man she had come to know. Instead of the tired and weary look that she had grown accustomed to
seeing on his pale face, there was a firmness. The image of the man in the reflection looked at her with a kind and confident expression;
Compassion. His shoulders were squared, his posture straight. He wasn't hunched over, nor did he wear the expression of silent desperation.
He was smiling.

She gave a quick glance at the person physically standing in front of her, just long enough to check his posture. This man was still hunched,
his physical demeanor not reminiscent of the figure in the mirror at all. "The mirror is giving you a false face." She whispered.

He stared at his own straight-faced reflection. "Odd." He turned to face her. Wasn't she standing taller just a second ago? The reflection of her
that he saw in the mirror showed her standing tall and composed behind him. Now, she was hunched over his shoulder, her head level with
his.

He could hear her breathing right next to his ear, yet the mirror insisted that she was standing at her full height behind him. Tall. Regal. Arms
crossed, showing an air of confident nobility befitting one who had been queen. How was it possible for her reflection to deny her real
appearance?

Instead of voicing his concern, he sighed and shook his head. He'll figure it out later.

"We're getting distracted again." He pocketed the Relic, emphasizing his intent to guide the conversation back towards the Fallen Relic. "The
texts not only suggest that the Fallen Relic exists. They also suggest that 'restoration' can be achieved by bringing the two together."

She narrowed her eyes. "'Restoration' can mean any number of things. What makes you so certain that you are interpreting that phrase the
way that it was intended?"

He shrugged, giving a weak smile. "I don't. I'm following a hunch and hoping that it's accurate."

"So you have no plan." She spoke under her breath, her tone hard and accusatory. "You don't have a direction. You don't even have a solid
foundation." Her gaze turned cold and her voice bitter. "'Hope' is all you have?!?" She practically spat the words, emphasizing "hope" like she
was shining light on a cockroach in the kitchen. "'Hope' is something that was stolen from me a long time ago. What makes you think that hope
is all you need?"

His smile disappeared. His posture shrank a little; the bite of her words sinking into him. But he resisted the urge to look away. He met her cold
stare with the fiery zeal of a cornered animal. "I know hope was stolen from you more than a decade ago." His gaze softened, but the
determination never left his eyes.

"But hope is all I have left."