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Twisted Desires (Knight)

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In the beginning, there was the Word. And the Word was with God, and the Word was God. All things were made by him. But he never accounted for his creation to take a mind on its own. Before the fall of Eden there was the fall of Lucifer. He only did so because he had been tired of playing second to his father, even though one day he might have been able to assume the throne. With his siblings they rebelled but alas they did not win, and were sent to the bottom of the earth turning into the very demon we know him to be today.

But an eternity down there would get lonely. And so he did what one would never think of him to do- seek companionship. And although his angel self was just a shell of his former, that didn’t stop him from falling in love with an Angel. A warrior, to say the least, as she had been seeking out demons and other creatures that were too sinful for the earth, sending them back to hell whenever they escaped. And it was their friendship that blossomed like the trees in the garden of eden, giving way to a balanced match.

And from that match, came a child, eventually of course, it wasn’t right away- after a few complications no doubt. And that child was the sole heir to Lucifer’s throne, the only heir he would ever produce.

And with that heir, certainly there would be…enemies, if they were dumb enough, that is…a story for another time, perhaps in a different direction of which this story will be told.

Nevertheless…



Marie lounged about on the throne, her human form ever prevalent in the heat of the palace. It was a surprise really that she chose her human appearance over her demon one. Anyways. There were reports of a man, he had gotten himself into a bit of trouble, apparently enough to catch the eyes of demon royalty. But why? What was he after? Certainly he wouldn’t be dumb enough to fight a demon, going for power. Right?
 
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The louging heiress saw a demon approaching her, a gnarled creature, draped in black robes on its boney body, it's face hidden in darkness of its hood. "Princess." The deom wheezed out, pulling up a bundle from its sleeves, thin fingers wrapped around whst seemed to be a leather case. "Your human has made themselves noticed again, he seems to be on a path that is fated for great woe" the demon said turning his hand.
 
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“Of course he has,” she spoke, giving a soft sigh, and looked at the leather case. Now if it was any other human, she wouldn’t have cared, but this human in particular was looking to be powerful no doubt. The only reason was…why? Why did mortals crave such a thing?
 
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"It is seen, your father has left it amongst his lesser visions, and has left instructions for you." The demon said as he laid the case upon the arm rest of the throne, every joint in his fingers crackling and creaking like he was composed of dried leather and whining wood. "This one must be followed." The demon said stiffly. Lucifer had written a great deal of prophecies and visions, the effects of centuries upon centuries of choices. But he only ever chose to influence as few as possible, whatever this human was doing so high up above was enough to warrant a attempt to change something that involved Marie.
 
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The script was carved upon a Brass plate with swirling , winding script, the infernal language of hell itself. It wound into a circle and crisscrossing sigils ran through it. The symbols glowed and rippled before her eyes, starting to bring themselves into order.


"My dear daughter, the path of the human is to bring Woe to the world.


Do not lay your eyes upon his face nor your hands to his own.


You are forbidden to approach him in any way."


The Demon stood at the ready, watching her reading.
 
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She sighed, looking to the demon, handing him the tablet. "Father thinks he's hilarious. There's no way I'd fall for such a human," she scoffed more at herself than anything else. Why would she even gaze upon the human? How could she do that when she doesn't even know what he looks like?
 
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“Ugh all this path nonsense.” She muttered and shifted to stand. “I don’t want to have any interactions with humans, they bore me-“ she paused, touching a similar whip on her hip in the fashion of her father’s. “But I don’t mind torturing them,” she grinned slowly, tasked to do so. Even though she was royalty that didn’t exempt her from certain duties.
 
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"Ofcourse Princess" the Demon said with a slight bow, holding in his obvious protest in the idea of 'Paths' being nonsense. The idea of fate and destiny had been all considered fact to some Demons, due to Lucifers ability to read into the future to closely. "You will cross him, it is seen by your father, it will be true." The demon said bowing his head as he started to shuffle away.
 
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She made a face, knowing how her father was. Her mother on the other hand...well, of course she believed anything her husband spewed out, especially after the whole vision thing he had of her became true and Marie would have been only a concept at that point and nothing more. So maybe there was some truth to it.

Marie tried to shake it off, and gave a stretch. She was nearly a spitting image of her mother, but her jawline and subtle features as in fuller eyebrows and broader shoulders was remnant of her father's features. Pretty much a perfect split between demon and angel. She already had swirling inky black marks coiling up her arms like a serpent- these markings were a spell bound to her to protect her angel side, as she never truly claimed a demon shell yet. Well, not claimed, but hadn't fully accepted that side of herself yet. Sure she enjoyed torturing souls and hunting down stray demons but she did it all in the fashion of her human looking self. But like her mother, the spell would only help so far, and she would have to eventually adapt, yet that didn't mean she couldn't prevent it.

She walked to her quarters and upon closing the doors, she locked it, but knew that wouldn't keep from demons magically appearing in and out of her room like her mother and father, so she had to put up sigils to keep them out after she came of age and wanted her own privacy. Her parents respected her privacy nonetheless but still.

She went to a large looking glass sitting by a blacked out window sill and she took a peek into it, trying to see if the above realm was worth visiting at the moment. Upon viewing the looking glass, something caught her eye. A demon? No... something different.
 
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The looking glass swirled with clouds and smoke, showing a building from above, in New York City. The glass winked again as she focused her will, looking for anything to gather her attention. Normally it worked only on a person better, something she saw, but with such a desire the glass angled over a building, where a human was standing on his own, at the rood top. His hair was black and smoothed back along his head, a wide open hoodie on his back, but he had no shirt underneath. He was clutching something to his chest, but she couldn't make it out. The looking glass rotated around him, trying to make out more of his face, his eyes, deep blue and glazed, as if he was a million miles away. His features, were handsome, yet stoic, too stoic for a young man like himself. His hands lowered from his chest, a marking was bruised into it, a sigil but not infernal in nature, nor was it Angelic. It was a Two pronged Fork, stabbing through the sockets of a skull. The human paced the roof top, kicking over junk left behind as he squeezed whatever was in his hands. Something was upsetting him, something personal it seemed.
 
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Marie looked closer, unsure of what she saw. Although mortals did drive her to nearly tears of boredom this one in particular caught her attention. Especially the sigil on his chest. Granted she tried to ignore that he was shirtless- surprised at herself to say the least- but what did this sigil mean? She couldn't detect a direct power source..
 
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The image if the human stopped pacing around like a caged animal for a moment, looking at a stair way the let out to the roof. He turned to it briefly and started to back away from it, pulling himself behind a table flipped onto its side. Two people came onto the roof, but their presence was obscured by magic, warding away the gaze of the looking glass on them, making them blurry shadows. They wandered the rooftop, their steps living almost after images with every step, like a computer facing severe processing problems, it was showing every frame of motion. Hedge makes? A cult? Whatever they were, The human she watched seemed to be hiding from them, waiting for a time to take action.
 
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She drew in closer to the looking glass, trying to make sense of what she was witnessing. If it was a cult it was likely they were worshipers of her father- as usual in most cults. Unless they spoke of Christianity which was a whole different category of cults in itself.
The question is, why would he be hiding? Wouldn’t he too be a part of a cult if he was performing such sigils on himself?
 
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The human clutched his hand to his chest again, the sigil glowing slightly, making him cover his mouth and hunch lower, his forehead touching the ground a moment. He bit his finger on his other hand. His body was tense in excruciating pain of some sort . The Dark figured drifted closer and closer to the table. While she couldn't see them, she did see something phase from their bloody forms, a pair of swords. Not many humans used those any more. Even cultists.
 
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The shaking human was all but helpless, but as the table was ripped aside , The human threw up something , blood red and his body balled up as he lurched up suddenly, like a puppet on strings. His eyes were dull gray, wheeled around as the shadows prepared to thrust their swords into his chest. His body folded backwards, almost in a bridge stance, then swept his foot up in the air, kicking a sword out if the grip of his attacker. His body bucked back upwards, snatching the blade as it fell back down, it screamed out in a swift slash, cutting his throat. The other took a step back, shifting its grip on its sword to a defensive stance, likely nervous by this change.
 
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Marie was glued to the spyglass, simply so intrigued with what unfolded before her. She had never seen a mortal do such an act, and even then- the way he moved, as if his body didn’t control himself. Then she had a wild thought. Perhaps this human could be a test subject.

Long were the days of people making deals with the devil, but that didn’t mean Marie couldn’t take that job. Maybe if she had someone on earth who were eyes and ears, she could stay ahead of every lost soul and demon on earth, making her hunting more effective. But then again she was known for her impeccable fighting and tracking skills, so why was she so interested in this human in particular?
 
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The human sat still, the blade in his hand holding straight forward as the entity weighed its moves. They pushed in suddenly throwing away caution and starting to rain blows for the humans body. The swords clashed and clanged, the human seemingly able to block and parry away the blows. But every motion was a rough adjustment, forced to twist and spin like a devilish dancer. They locked blades, wrapped in the bind.
 
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Marie raised her head at the sound of the door being knocked on, and the spyglass went dark, and she was surprised at herself. She coughed and asked, “Who is it?”

Lyra had felt an odd sense rolling off of her daughter, and she gently touched the hidden scars on her stomach underneath her clothing where Marie had to be cut from her womb. It was normal for a mother’s intuition but this was different. “Marie darling, is everything alright?” She could sense something. Marie’s pheromones. But she didn’t know that’s what she was sensing.
 
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Awhile the looking glass was dark, and luckily silent, Marie had missed out on the human finally dusembowling his attacker, a slow drawn 9ut rending of flesh from the inside out. But both where none the wiser. Lucifer would have a better knowledge of the leaking of pheromones coming from Marie, given his warnings...he probably would be a tad suspicious as to the reasons of such stirrings in her.
 
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“Uh…no! Just uh, preparing for the ceremony tonight!” She called back to her parents, speaking of, she would have to go through a ceremony where she would have to adapt a demon form. Since she was of age now.

But, the way her pheromones were leaking through, that did not bode well for the ceremony. If she went through with it, what they would have on their hands would be the world’s most fearsome succubus. And certainly with Lucifer’s warnings, nothing good would come out of it. Perhaps they should postpone it? Maybe it wasn’t time yet for her to adapt a demon form.

Lyra leaned her ear on the door, and she didn’t hear anything odd, but something about Marie’s breathing was off. Why did she feel so tense all of a sudden? She looked to Lucifer for guidance and mouthed, “Do you hear her breathing?”
 
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Marie looked to the door, the door was locked, preventing them from getting in. “Yes-I’m fine. Obviously nervous but I’ll be fine!” She said, glancing to the spyglass. Did her father know? What was this feeling? She looked confused and touched her head. “I-I’m going to lie down a bit before the ceremony, okay?” She tells them and mentions, “Perhaps Aunty Lilith needs help in fixing things up?” She asked.

Lyra sighed. Sure, her and Lilith never saw eye to eye but for some reason, she had became more like an estranged family member at that point. “We should let her be,” she mentioned, knowing that whatever Marie was going through, she would want to do it on her own.
 
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Lyra nods, touching his arm gently, “Let’s go,” she murmured to him, hearing Marie shuffle and what seemed to be hearing of her getting on her bed. She knew it would have to do with the vision he had seen. It had ended with Marie dying (*coughs, coven*) and she knew how Lucifer felt about those, seeing her die as well- certainly it was traumatic to have your loved ones cursed to die. But, thankfully he had been there in enough time for her- but how can he be sure to be there for Marie?
 
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Lyra walked with him, lost in her thoughts. She then looked to Lucifer. “You know, your visions only show the terrible parts, right?” She mentioned and then added, “Plus, your last vision didn’t account you saving me.”

Marie had her face planted in a pillow, wallowing in what she was feeling at the moment. She then turned and looked up at the ceiling of her room, ironically filled with creeping vines that had been made to adapt to Hell’s intense heat. She remembers the sigil on the man’s chest. The two pronged…wait. Didn’t her father have something of the sort? She got up and went to one of her books, flipping through the pages until she came across the same image she had saw in the spyglass. The bident and the skull. She tried to decipher the ancient demon tongue that was written on the page, no doubt in human blood.
 
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The sigil was an obscure one, even to one as old and knowing as heaven and hells vast observers. The scriptures shifted and aligned. The Mark of Yaun-il-hi. The Deathless One. The Maker of Curses. A entity that was neither Devil or Angel, but something all of its own. The mark itself was some kind of magical locator, a curse upon a person that drew the eyes of anyone who served or simply wanted the favor from Yaun-il-hi.
 
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