Barlowe, Wayne - God's Demon

Eligor found a low bench to sit on and, unfastening its simple latch, opened the box. Within it were two objects carefully wrapped in thin, finely dressed soul-skin, one larger than the other. He picked up the two bundles and weighed them in his hands, debating whether opening them represented an act of posthumous betrayal, an uncontestable intrusion into the Prime Minister's privacy. Ultimately, Eligor remembered Sargatanas' offer—that he could take anything he wanted—and this provided enough justification that he began to slowly unwrap the larger object. In seconds a small bone statue, exquisite in its every detail, rested upon the skin spread upon his lap. It was Lilith, carved, he now knew, by her own hand. Bits of what Eligor guessed were the charred remains of Valefar's own feathers, presumably gathered like sad reliquaries from the Fall, lay in dark flakes around it. How could he have gotten this statue? They were given only to souls by Lilith. Valefar had been present when his lord had taken the female soul's statue that fateful day so long ago. Perhaps he had acquired this one in a similar way. But if so, would he not have mentioned it? Or ... or did she give it to him?

Scooping up the statue and the precious bits of feather, Eligor placed them on a small table. Taking up the second small burden, he noted how heavy it was comparatively. If he was surprised by the first object, he was positively astonished by the second. Lying upon its dark wrappings, simple in its design but ominous by its very significance, was an Order of the Fly medallion. Valefar ... an Order Knight? Impossible! Beneath the dully gleaming Fly, Eligor saw the corner of a folded piece of vellum, and smoothing it open, he began to read the crabbed script of Dis:

Valefar,

I have taken the liberty of secreting this among your personal effects. This commission was well earned; the services you performed as Primus of the Order to our Prince, if performed unhappily, were exemplary. It was your sad misfortune to have Fallen in the immediate proximity of this city and thus to have to serve it and its master; I know you will be more at ease wherever else you choose to settle. And I know that, in departing, you will leave behind the one for whom you care most. She will be safer for your decision. I will see to it.

For now and always remember me as your friend in Dis.

Agares

Was this possible? thought Eligor, his mind racing. The conclusions he was inferring went beyond anything he could have guessed. The statue and the medallion, together in a casket hidden away, both precious, painful reminders of a time past in Dis. Did they signify a relationship between Valefar and Lilith? The more Eligor pondered it, the more certain he grew. But did Sargatanas know of it? Eligor sat stunned, the medal growing heavy in his enervated hand.

Frowning, Eligor regarded the opening in the wall, considering his choices. He would not take these things as reminders of his friend, would not run the risk of their ever being found. Instead Eligor carefully separated the feathers from the skin around the statue and put them on a table. He then rewrapped the statue and the medallion and placed them back inside the casket, latching it shut. He put it back into the wall compartment, sealed the opening, and reorganized the bookcase, leaving it exactly as he had found it. Returning to the small pile of feathers, he carefully scooped them into a clean blood-ink vial, a fitting symbol, he felt, for the demon who had been Prime Minister of Adamantinarx for so long.