The Realm Within
Book I: The Eternal Struggle
Chapter I: Determination

        Another night in this pathetic world and I will likely go insane!  Ramiel flexed his wings. I’m one of the strongest Reapers in Anrya so why did the Malevolent One give me and Varkael this assignment? This is a job for a Watcher, not me.  Sitting on the rooftop of an old two-story house, he resigned himself to cowering in the darkness like a thief waiting for his mark.  The nighttime air desperately clung to his tan face as he wiped it away and looked down at the pavement below.  He gripped the edge of the gutter, fingernails biting into the metal without remorse. How long do I have to wait here? He chuckled at the irony of that thought.  Impervious to the erosion of age, time was pointless to the Reaper.  
        “You know they’ll find us….”
        Ramiel crawled to the corner of the roof, crimson eyes studying the two figures that turned the corner at a comfortable pace; a couple, by the looks of them.      
        “I know,” the woman held the man’s hand firmly.  She looked very solemn; her pale features seemingly frozen.  
        Ramiel watched as they passed him.  Though the man looked like a normal human—ebony hair and an olive complexion—the scent that silently floated upward in the breeze revealed the truth.  He was a Lost Demon—another Reaper.  Finally!   He fidgeted in place, slight fangs exposed in a nasty grin.  I have found the exile!  
        The couple turned the next corner, the tone of their conversation wandering around curiously.  
        Waiting until he could no longer hear their footsteps tapping monotonously on the sidewalk, Ramiel jumped from his perch and landed in the front lawn of the house.  Moisture stuck to his hands as he crouched close to the ground, brimming with eagerness.   Black, membranous wings extended, he leaped onto the wall that separated houses from street, boots scraping against cement as he landed.  Seizing the edges of the wall he looked like a feral nightmare, ready to kill.  Hmm….  It’s a shame Varkael will not be able to take part in this.  He has abandoned me to do this on my own like the witless fool he is. A low-pitched growl rumbled inside his throat.  I no longer care about his pathetic wish to keep this Kyniel alive. Crawling on top of a streetlamp, he tilted his head and studied his prey.  
         “What should we do?” The woman turned to the man, absently fixing the collar of her shirt.  “Do you think they know?”
         The man shook his head, making a strange gesture with his free hand.  “It’s only a matter of time.”
         The two of them continued to walk, the somber silence entombing them alive.
         Jumping off the lamp, he slightly opened his wings so he could land quietly against the on top of the next one, staying close to them.  There’s something strange about this woman. He squinted, memorizing every feature of her body.  She looks normal, he sniffed the air, but her scent is disgusting!Perplexed and intrigued, he leaned forward as far as his position would allow.  
         “Are you going to tell your sister?” Kyniel squeezed her hand three times.  
         She nodded.
         “Good.” He let go of her hand.
         Curious, Ramiel jumped to the next streetlamp in order to stay close to them as they went around the corner.
          A bright flash lit up the area.  The woman flew off into the sky, pure white, feathery wings glowing.
          A Higher One!   Ramiel snarled and flew into the sky after her.  This woman and her kind had been his enemy—and Kyniel’s as well—for as long as he could remember!  What is he doing with that filth!  He should have killed her not bonded with her.  The thought of mating with a Higher One sent shudders of revulsion coursing through his body.   
          The woman stopped ascending and turned to face him, hands in position as a strange circle of light and patterns flickered to life.  A bow appeared from the realm Within with an arrow notched and ready.  
          Ramiel’s reflexes were put to the test.  Twisting the right side of his body backwards, he barely managed to turn in time.
          “Who are you, Reaper?  What do you want here?”  Ramiel felt cold steel against his neck.  
          The woman had another arrow ready and eager to pierce his heart. “Shall I make him answer?” the woman asked.
          “No,” he nicked Ramiel, blood trickling down to meet the blade. “I will not ask again, Reaper.”
          “And I will not answer,” Ramiel looked up at Kyniel and smiled, spitting on the slender sword, cutting himself a little deeper in the process.
          “So be it.”
          Ramiel called on his longsword from Within a second before Kyniel slashed open his neck, lunging forward in an attempt to catch the exiled Reaper off guard.
          Kyniel stepped back and rolled his shoulder, dodging effortlessly.  Flying up into the air, he darted back down faster than Ramiel could blink, appearing in front of him, sword poised.
          Ramiel blocked the blow, the force almost bending his arm too far.  A loud roar of frustration exploded out of his mouth an arrow grazed his shoulder.  “You’ll pay for that you Higher One trash!”
           Kyniel punched Ramiel hard, knocking him to the ground.  “Tsk, tsk, such ignorance is not becoming.”
           The woman—Lorrayne—lifted her marble lips slightly.
           Ramiel wiped away the blood flowing from the split on corner of his mouth, wincing.
           “A word of advice from one Reaper to another,” Kyniel took a defensive stance.  “Never let your ego get the best of you.”
           “Don’t tell me what to do, exile!” Ramiel snarled loudly, grip tightening on his longsword.  
           “As you wish,” he sprinted and jumped into the air, sword pointed down.
           Stunned, Ramiel could not move out of the way.  Ramiel heard his flesh tear, felt his shoulder go numb as pain seared throughout his entire body.
           Withdrawing his blade from Ramiel’s shoulder, Kyniel pivoted on one foot, sword aimed for the Reaper’s head.  
           Anger and adrenaline spurring him onward, Ramiel blocked, pushing Kyniel away.  He did not stop in his onslaught, sense giving way to rage.  
           Kyniel twisted out of the way, blocking a swift strike from his left side.
           Ramiel snarled, thrusting his longsword forward in a formless effort to injure Kyniel.  
           Lorrayne shot another arrow, forcing the crazed Reaper to halt his assault on her mate in order to evade it.
           Kyniel took that moment to knock Ramiel’s longsword out of his hands, signaling Lorrayne.
           She walked forward until her arrowhead touched the Reaper’s left temple.  
           “Now, I want to know why you are here,” Kyniel took his slender blade and crossed it over Ramiel’s in front of the Reaper’s neck.
           Ramiel glanced at the arrow then back down to the two swords with a calculating and angry gaze.  “Why else would I be here?  You know how it is in Anrya,” his lips quivered as he held back an indignant growl.  
           “What the Malevolent One says is law,” they both said at the same time.  
           Silence.  
           “What were your orders?” Kyniel pushed the blades closer.  
           Ramiel fought the urge to back up, quietly snarling at the arrowhead.  “Why do you want to know?”
           “Just answer the question,” Lorrayne demanded with a frigid, piercing glare.
           “I won’t answer to you!” He laughed, “I bet you’re just as weak as the rest of your kind.”
           It was Kyniel’s turn to laugh.  “She could kill you faster than I can, I assure you.”
           “Perhaps in bed she is lethal, but not here.”
           He howled in agony as Lorrayne grabbed his wounded shoulder and squeezed.  “You waste my time.”
           “See?” Kyniel closed the swords a little.  “Now, tell me what your orders were.”
           Ramiel grabbed Kyniel’s blade and squeezed, gritting his teeth as blood began to flow.  
           “That’s you’re answer then?”
           Ramiel paused.  “What if I said it was?”
           “Within awaits you.”
           He looked down at his wounds.  They were already beginning to heal on their own. Immortality is not so grand a thing….  
           “Well?  What is your choice?”
           “I was sent here to kill you.”
           “By yourself?”
           Ramiel nodded, eyeing the blades warily.  
           “Were you sent to kill just me?”  He exchanged glances with Lorrayne.  “No one else?”
           “No one.”
           Kyniel looked back to Lorrayne.  Should we kill him anyways? His expressions asked.
           She made a slight bowing motion with her head.  Yes.
           He sighed, suddenly reluctant. Another death on my hands.  
           Lorrayne loosed the arrow, killing Ramiel instantly.  
           Kyniel watched the longsword in his hand fade away along with the body, returning Within. I wish this would stop.
           Lorrayne stood there, motionless as she stared at her mate.
           He returned his sword Within in a smooth, sheathing movement, blood from the sword splattering on the ground where it belonged.  “Why did you do that?”  
           She walked up and took his hand.  “You hesitated.”
           He kissed her on the forehead.  “Thank you.”
           “They don’t know about Serapha,” it was not a question.
           Kyniel grunted in agreement.  “It’s only a matter of time before they figure it out.”
           Lorrayne gave him a genuine smile, rigid features warming only for him.  “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”
           He smiled back and gave her hand a loving squeeze.  After a moment, he released it.  “The Reaper’s partner is here.”
           Lorrayne accepted that information silently, looking towards the streetlamp a few feet away.  
           A strange shadow writhed and moved around under it, becoming a visible outline under the light of the streetlamp as the air turned brittle and cold.
           “Varkael?” Kyniel motioned for Lorrayne to get behind him.  “I did not know you were Ramiel’s partner… old friend.”
           The tall Destroyer laughed callously, cold blue eyes glimmering like two tainted sapphires in a dark cavern.  “I’m pleased you remember me.”  
           Kyniel smiled grimly.  “You were like a brother to me once.  How could I forget the person who taught me to survive?”
           “By leaving.”
           “Brotherhood only lasts so long in that place,” it was the closest thing to an apology Varkael would ever receive.
           The Destroyer’s white wings twitched in rhythm with his head.  “Let me see if I understand this,” he put his index finger to his chin.  “You left me and your kin in order to be with her?” Varkael’s laugh had a hysterical, very bitter edge.  “You need help.”
           “That’s an ironic statement, coming from you.”
           He hissed.  “Very cute,” his frown flipped and became a twisted grin.  “I suppose you think that was funny.”
           “Very,” Lorrayne said as she came to stand next to her mate.
           Varkael stared at her in disgust.  “Haven’t you taught your wench any manners yet?”
           Kyniel smiled.  “I thought it was rather polite of her.”
           The Destroyer growled and snarled like a rabid beast.  A second later, he was screeching and hissing hysterically.  “What would you do to protect your repulsive woman, Kyniel?”
           “Anything.”
           “Really?” he tilted his head, fangs exposed in a smile.  
           “Go to Lorenne and hide Serapha,” Kyniel whispered, lips barely moving.  So you won’t have to get hurt….   
           She grabbed his hand, their sign of undying endearment.  “I love you.”
           “Always,” withdrawing his weapon from Within, he ran at Varkael.  “Now!  Go!”
           Lorrayne vaulted into the sky with amazing grace and ease, stealing a quick glance back. Please, my love, don’t die.  She turned away and pushed her wings to go faster, wind slapping bitterly against her face.  I must hurry.   
           Varkael roared at the fast-approaching Kyniel and summoned his sword—made entirely of ice—from Within in order to defend.  It cracked a little as Kyniel’s sword met his.  
           Steel sparked and whined against ice as the two of them shook violently, trying to knock the other off balance.  
           With a grunt, Kyniel fell back, frigid ice scratching against his forearm.  
           Varkael stood there, panting.  “Clever.  You knew I would target her?”
           Kyniel pressed his hand on the warm yet hardened cement.  “I was your partner for three hundred twenty years,” he brushed off his T-shirt and grabbed his sword lying a few feet away.  “I know your tactics—ruthless, cheap, and disappointing.”  
           Varkael shook his head.  “You left violence only to find more violence, poor thing,” his laugh dripped with almost palpable animosity.
           “No, you brought the violence with you.”
           The Destroyer scoffed and flipped his long, blond hair behind his shoulders.  “Delude yourself all you want.  I’m telling the truth and you know it.”
           Kyniel threw a small dagger at his old comrade with his free hand.  “I’m tired of your mind games!”
           Varkael’s lips jerked into a smile as he avoided the dagger without even moving.  “Just accept that you are a killer, a Lost Demon,” he grinned, “and can never be anything else.”
           “I don’t want to fight anymore,” emerald and gold Symbols embraced Kyniel’s weapon as it returned Within.
           “Well I’m sure we could arrange something,” Varkael chuckled.
   “Do tell.”
   “Come back to Anrya and become my partner aga—
   “No,” Kyniel crossed his arms.  So that’s his true motive.
           Pale blue and white Symbols flickered around Varkael’s hand as an ice dagger appeared in the center of it.  “Then we must fight.”
           “No, we don’t,” Kyniel took out a dagger, “but something tells me you won’t listen to any peaceful negotiations I have in mind.”
           “Technically, my orders are to kill you.  So I’m just doing what I’m told.”
           “You always were easy to lead on,” Kyniel rushed at Varkail and threw one dagger at his face.  
           Varkael dodged it and blocked the other dagger with his ice one.
           Kyniel did a flip and landed away from him.
           “Are you sure you won’t reconsider going back to Anrya with me?” Varkael nearly pleaded.  “I do not want to kill you.”
           “It was never my home.  I did not belong there, remember?”  Kyniel withdrew his blade, tense and serious.
           “Just because your brother disowned you and left you—
           Varkael howled in pain as the steel dagger plunged spitefully into his right shoulder.  
           “Finish that sentence if you dare,” Kyniel growled, sword in hand.
           Pulling out the dagger with a grunt of pain, Varkael chuckled.  “I see that spot is still sore,” he looked down, gripped his sword then lunged.
           Kyniel rushed to meet him, shaking.  The thirst for battle overwhelmed and pushed him to attack as brutally as possible, old pain boiling out and intensifying his blow.
            Varkael yelled and fell back for a moment before jumping into the air.  
            Shedding the Symbols that had been shading his wings, Kyniel shot into the sky after his enemy.
            Varkael snarled and grinned, using the Symbols for portal and stealth.  Shadows collected around him in the air as he disappeared, cackling in a crazed manner.              
            Kyniel stopped flying upward and hovered in place.  “Still using the same tricks I see.  I thought you would have learned some new ones in one hundred years,” emerald eyes searched calmly around him.  Where are you, Varkael?     
            Shadows slithered up his back and around his arms until they enveloped him completely.  He felt hands grab onto his wings, slippery and cold against the membrane.     
            “Oh, I have,” Varkael cooed into Kyniel’s ear, form hidden by darkness.  “You’ll like this one.”  
            Kyniel felt the hands jerk at his wings, breaking bone and tearing membrane.  Crying out in agony, he thrashed against the shadows.  Calling on the Symbol for power, a white-red ring surrounded him as he stabbed his way out of the darkness with a small dagger.  His shoulder blades burst into flames of pain as he tried in vain to use his wings.  Unable to stay aloft, he started to plummet to the earth far below.  Managing to create a portal underneath him, he fell through it and onto the cement.  White flashes of pain blocked his sight as the bones in his wings cracked even more.
            “That was creative,” Varkael landed next to him.
            “Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Kyniel groaned and stood up shakily, wings dangling and useless.  
            Varkael returned his sword Within and walked up to Kyniel.  “I want you to come back with me to Anrya.”
            “Why?  You had a pretty solid partner.”
            The Destroyer laughed.  “You were better than any of those incompetent drones.  I need the old you back, my friend and comrade in battle.”
            Kyniel fell into an offensive stance, dagger in hand.  “That man died a long time ago and he’s not coming back.  Ever.”
            Varkael’s face went into hysterics, mouth convulsing violently.  “H-he’s not coming back?” His hoarse laughter grated against Kyniel’s ears.  “He’s not coming back!”
            “Never.”
            “Then I’ll kill you and your whore of a mate!” He screamed, voice cracking as he lost the little sanity he had left.
            “I can’t let you do that,” Kyniel threw the dagger at Varkael’s feet.
            He jumped back and dodged it only to find Kyniel’s sword slash across his side.  He hissed loudly and tried to claw at the Reaper savagely, rational thoughts forsaking him.
            Pivoting, form flawless, Kyniel stabbed Varkael straight through the leg.  The metallic smell of the blood was almost soothing, enthralling his senses.  
            The Destroyer fell to the ground, screeching in rage and insanity.   
            Kyniel pointed his sword at Varkael’s throat.  “For the sake of what once was, leave now.”
            “Why?  What’s the point?  You will not come with me!  You are dead to me!  Dead!” He wailed.   
            “Dramatic as usual,” Kyniel sighed.  
            “What was that?” Varkael growled, looking up.  “Dramatic?  Me?  You’re the one who left because he couldn’t handle killing anything!  How pathetic are you?”  
            Kyniel smiled.  “Pathetic enough for you to waste one hundred years looking for me.  Now,” he pushed the tip of his sword closer to Varkael’s face, “I’ll ask you one more time to leave.”
            “Okay.  Just one thing,” the Destroyer grinned maliciously.  “Where did your wench fly off to, hmm?”
            Kyniel jabbed Varkael in the same shoulder the dagger had penetrated, wound already healed.  “Nowhere.”
            “You never could lie to me,” he winced a bit.  “Now I’m very curious to know what you two are hiding.”
            He thrust the sword into Varkael’s shoulder even more.  “Stop asking.”
            “What would make you so edgy?  I think I know!” Varkael stood up and yanked Kyniel’s sword out of his hand.  The wound on his leg was gone.  
            He was just buying time so his leg would heal! How could I have been so blinded by my emotions?
             “It has something to do with that ‘Serapha’ that filthy woman had mentioned, doesn’t it?” Varkael began to circle around, Kyniel’s sword in one hand, his in the other.
             Kyniel followed.  “You were already there.”
             “I had been there the entire time.  I wanted to see who won—you or Ramiel,” he shook his head and sighed.  “I should have just gone after you myself.”
             “Lorrayne would have killed you.”
             Varkael howled with amused laughter.  “That Higher One whore?  Hah!  She’s an archer Kyniel, how much damage could she possibly do?”
             “More than you think.”
             “Who is Serapha?” Varkael feigned to the left and stabbed Kyniel in the arm.
             Kyniel groaned and pushed his sword into his own arm further, lodging it in his bone.  Dashing backwards, he pulled his sword free of Varkael’s grasp.  Withdrawing it from his arm, he ran at the other Lost Demon.
             “Tell me!” The Destroyer repeated as he did a series of twists and dodges, confusing Kyniel a bit with their erratic nature.  “Tell me!”
             “Shut up!” Kyniel slashed randomly at Varkael, turning in circles trying to read his movements.
             “She’s your child, isn’t she?” He goaded, stabbing Kyniel in the chest before continuing his strange offensive.  
             “Shut,” Kyniel threw a dagger and missed, “up!”
             “You know what I’m going to do Kyniel?” He stabbed the Reaper’s shoulder in the same place Kyniel had stabbed him.  “I’m going to kill that wench and your daughter!”  
             “No!” Kyniel lunged forward.  
             Varkael slashed down his left side, ripping through skin and muscle.
             Kyniel screamed in pain, falling to the ground.
             “And you won’t be alive to watch them die.”
             No….
             “Poor Kyniel.  You left your old life to find a new one,” he giggled, “and I’m the one that ends up taking it away, which is quite ironic,” Varkael picked Kyniel up from the ground.  “After all, we were brothers once.”  
             “You never… understood me,” Kyniel wheezed, wincing with every word.
             Varkael punched Kyniel into the ground, throwing his sword down next to him.  “How’s that for understanding?”

             No response.

             The Destroyer laughed.  “I’ve killed you!  Now you cannot torment me any longer.  I will bury you from my thoughts!”  He looked back.

             Still no movement.

             Varkael chuckled, stopped, and then chuckled again.  “You never were good enough to be my partner, anyways.”  He looked back again.
             Blood began to flow out from under Kyniel’s body, crawling along the cement.
             “Hah!  I think I will go kill your family now.”

             Energy….
          
             A large crackling sound grabbed Varkael’s attention.  He turned around.
             The blood began to form Symbols that flickered and grew.  Kyniel twitched, blue energy swarming around him.

             Energy….

             “W-what are you trying to do, Kyniel?  Only Destroyers can perform a Summoning of that magnitude!” He scoffed, backing away.  “Are you trying to kill yourself?
             Kyniel’s sword was swathed by the blue light.  Hovering slightly in the air, it extended and transformed.  Steel disintegrated and pure energy took its place.
             I must protect my family….
             Kyniel rose, floating in the Symbols.
             “Y-you shouldn’t be able to do that!” Varkael yelled in horror.  “How are you doing that?”
             “I must protect my family,” Kyniel turned to look at his old friend.  The blue energy turned emerald, golden Symbols flowing everywhere.
             “You shouldn’t be able to do that!” Varkael roared madly.  “Even I can’t do that!”
     “Die.”
     Kyniel appeared in front of Varkael before the Destroyer had a chance to blink.  He jumped up and slashed down.
     Varkael tried to block it but his sword broke, shards of ice flying everywhere.  The energy seared into his face, tearing into his collarbone and cutting his arm wide open.  
     The Destroyer screeched and wailed, falling back and writhing around on the ground.  
     Kyniel looked down at him and walked forward.  The Symbols began to fade, the gold disappearing as the energy that was his sword shrank in size.  

             Just a little… more.
     
             Varkael looked from the fading energy to Kyniel and stared straight through the Reaper’s dying body.  

             Please… just a little more.

             Kyniel faltered, energy falling away from him.  
     “I t-told you that you should not have done that, Kyniel,” Varkael said, watching as the energy let Kyniel fall to the ground, sword disappearing.  “Now you are going to die for sure.”
       
             Lorrayne….

             Varkael stood up and walked over to him, hugging his arm to his chest tightly.  “See how pathetic you are?  Hah!  You thought you could kill m—
             An arrow shot through the night and straight into Varkael.  He looked down at the beautiful feathers protruding from his chest as another one followed.  
     Lorrayne ran forward to Kyniel, not even looking at her handiwork sticking out from the Destroyer’s head.
             “Lorrayne… is Serapha…?”
     She grabbed her beloved’s fading hand.  “She’s safe, don’t worry.”
     “And… Varkael?”
     “I killed him.”
     Kyniel smiled meekly.  “Thank you… I don’t think I could have.”
     She kissed his hand.  “I know.”
     He touched her cheek lightly, translucent arm shaking from the effort.  “You’ve always been so beautiful… I love… you.”
     “Rest Within, my love,” she kissed him passionately on the lips before he stopped breathing.      
             She watched as Kyniel faded away, returning Within.  For the first time in her life, she felt tears overflow, trying to reach out to Kyniel somehow.  What do I do without you…?
     Standing up, she looked down the street, Kyniel’s blood embracing the warm cement.  What do I do now that you’re gone?  Am I… feeling pain?  She could not hold back the sobs that shook inside of her.  This hurts so much….       
             And so Lorrayne sat there, wailing loudly into the night until she could not take it any more.  Kyniel was gone.

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