♱ Chapter • 145 ♱

♱ •⋅ 1750 B.C. ⋅• ♱ •⋅ Asmodeus ⋅• ♱

"Asmodeus is a great..."

"This time it’s going to work," I said ignoring the voice of that damn demon in my earring as I focused on that crystal, that crystal I was able to form from Quinn’s blood.

"You’ve been repeating this since..."

"Shut up" growled tearing the earring from my ear and throwing it at the wall.

I wasn’t in the mood to be careful about whether or not I could hurt him or even break his prison.

I was just tired.

I wanted to see her.

"It needs to work" I muttered as I imbued more and more magic in that little crystal "work, work..." I kept repeating, as if somehow that was a stupid mantra - strong enough to make everything work; but nothing could be easy when it was for me, right?

Nothing worked as it should.

I bit my mouth hard, the fangs thrust into my lip until a sliver of blood came down my chin.

I couldn’t see her, I couldn’t be with her or protect her. I couldn’t go to her even though time was passing and yet, the least I was asking was to be allowed to watch from afar, I was... asking so little, so why was I still refused?

Was it the universe wishing that I recognized my mistake?

Was it one of the plagues of Astaroth that tried to teach me how bad I was?

Is the multiverse getting tired of my interventions?

I kept asking myself for hours, days, weeks; but the truth was that I didn’t care even a little about the answer. I just wanted to see her.

A low flicker arose from the mirror I built with the crystal, it was a mere copy, a copy of the mirror I once saw in a dragon’s room; it was a poorly made and obviously depressing copy, but it was enough for me.

It was enough for tears of happiness to roll down my cheeks; because in the reflection of that copy, a round and childish face appeared. There were teeth missing in her mouth, her eyes were like mine, but they had a brownish tone by the camouflage magic of Cain, her hair, her lips, it was all different; but it was her.

"My little sun..." I whispered with trembling and bloodstained fingers touching her smiling little face "my little sun remains beautiful, bright..."

She kept smiling, her chubby fingers held that book that looked bigger than her head. How old was she? 8 years old? No..., maybe 10.

I had wasted too much time... I had lost so much. I had lost his first steps, his laughter, his first words. I’d lost the first time she sang, probably her first love, I’d lost things I couldn’t get back, no matter what I did.

The reflection in the mirror smiled, danced, played in a beautiful green field. I watched her hum as she learned how to make pancakes, saw her messy hair and Cain’s laugh make her blush. In the midst of what I always wanted to have, I got lost in front of that crimson mirror, decorated so crude, so crude.

"Asmodeus?" the familiar voice called me, but all I could do was sniff "oh..." he muttered "is it your daughter?"

I could do nothing but nod.

"It’s so beautiful..." Quinn muttered, her fingers touching my shoulder "she looks like you."

The old angel said and I almost laughed, almost laughed at his attempt to console me, an attempt so flawed that it brought tears to my eyes - for it is true.

"It’s my little sun" I heard myself confessing as my fingers touched that reflection, the reflection of a girl who now I knew was 10 years old, knew thanks to the cake that Cain gave her as a gift.

10 years.

I had lost 10 years of my little child’s life, that sun that lit the darkness in my chest.

10 years.

A fucking decade.

"She really shines" Quinn sincerely said sitting on the floor "she’s your little sun, how is Loren my little moon?” I bit my mouth hard.

Loren.

Is that who Quinn wanted to talk about?

"No" I muttered "my little sun has always been my little sun."

A meaningless sentence, but somehow, she laughed. A low and restrained laugh, almost like the complicity laugh that being had once given me, a laugh that we commonly shared as we ran through Asaph’s garden.

"What do you want?" I asked feeling my throat dry, feeling each of the pronounced words scratch my vocal cords.

"Nothing" he said low, his hands crossed over his knees.

My eyes did not come out of Helin’s reflection, but I could still see Quinn from the corner of my eyes; standing, sitting, an enviable posture as I looked at my child and his life in the mortal world.

"And why are you here?" I purr, an almost guttural, almost animalistic purr.

"Because it’s been 2 weeks since you left, you haven’t slept, you haven’t eaten..." the blond man said bluntly, letting out a long sigh as he pushed a glass of juice towards me "because you’re there, facing a life that you can’t participate in the same way I faced Loren in your dreams."

I snitched.

"Hypocrite, do you really want to tell me what to do when you keep coming to him? When you still find it in your dreams..." I shot and even though I knew they were cruel words, I did not regret it.

I wanted to hurt something, someone and if this or that being was going to be Quinn, I didn’t care a bit, even so, he sighed as he hung his head on my shoulder; a gesture that made me arch my face and face him.

"I tore from him" admitted "I took from Loren the fragment I had left."

My eyes widened wide.

"What is it? But..."

"He’ll be fine" muttered "he promised me."

The ferrous taste of my blood invaded my mouth. Was he really sure of that?

A scream made me look back in the mirror. It was my child, it was her screaming and then... there was no more image.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" I shouted shaking the mirror "make it back! MAKE IT WORK!"

Quinn stared at me now standing, his face in a melancholy mask.

"It doesn’t work..."

"MAKE IT WORK! USE MORE OF YOUR BLOOD OR..."

"Asmodeus!"

"NO! I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED! I WANT TO KNOW IF MY DAUGHTER IS OK!"

"ASMODEUS!"

"NO! NO! NO!" I screamed as I threw the mirror on the floor, my hands sinking into my shaggy hair - CAN’T LOSE HER! SHE NO! I CAN’T! I CAN’T!

Quinn’s arms enveloped me and before I knew it, his powers erased me, erased me and sent me to that field.

That flowery field of Asaph.

The one where she was still there, where she was still smiling and where Helin was still in her belly.

Cruel.

Angels were... really cruel.

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