VIM TUAM AUFERO

The thunderous sound of the Minotaurs' hooves reverberated through the rocky soil as they forcefully guided Luciano further into the desolate and unforgiving landscape of Umbral.

Despite his wings being tightly bound to his back, they continued to struggle against the unnatural restraint and caused an unbearable agony to sear through his body. The metal restraints dug into the skin around his wrists, rendering him utterly powerless against the monstrous creature that appeared to now hold complete sway over his destiny.

"Where are you taking me, Indrameque?" he mused in intrigue, glancing around at the familiar embers flickering around in the air from getting further away from the controlled section of the underworld where the weather was much more forgiving. The further away from the banished lands they walked, the thicker the fog grew.

"Shut up," one of her henchmen growled.

His jaw clenched in irritation. To be spoken to in such a manner by such a lowly creature fuelled a fury within him like no other.

How had he, the prince of the Underworld, ended up in this precarious situation?

His capture felt way too premeditated for it to have been sparked by a sudden rebellion in Indra. What of that succubus?

Mustering as much bravado as he could, he challenged, "You think you can do something like this and my father won't hear of your treachery? Getting banished to Umbral will be the least of your concerns for your minotaurs, Indra."

"Your father?" she responded with a scoff.

Without even needing to turn around, he could imagine the sneer curling onto her lips.

"You mean the doddering old fool living in the comforts of his castle as though he is one of the gods he once claimed to despise for casting him out? He couldn't find his way out of a burlap sack, let alone uncover my machinations in Umbral. The sort of arrogance one needs to have to send his only son into our lands with but his hound after banishing all the minotaurs to this forsaken place."

His brows twitched at the painful reminder of his hound.

"You have grown awfully lax and lazy, Princeps Tenebris, forgetting to sleep with one eye open."

"So this was all premeditated?"

Instead of responding, the beast behind him shoved him as if to irately tell him to stop talking. He stumbled slightly off balance before righting his stride.

Frazier, he could not help but call out to his hound in his thoughts even though he knew she was long gone. Just another restless soul to roam the underworld forever now.

As they ventured deeper into the forbidden lands, the air became noticeably heavier, making it difficult to breathe. With each laboured breath, his throat felt like it was on fire and his body ached from the effort of trying to keep up with the relentless pace of the creature behind him. The ground beneath his feet transitioned into a desolate expanse of jagged, cracked terrain, leading them to the entrance of a foreboding cave.

His brows furrowed in confusion as he was led deeper into the unknown, the dim light casting eerie shadows against the uneven walls. His captors remained ominously silent, the only sound the echoing of their hoofs against the uneven terrain. For some reason, the uncertainty of the situation was causing his undead heart to race in his chest and dread clawed at his mind as he was pushed further into the cavernous depth.

"Where are you taking me?" he questioned over his shoulder with an indifferent expression on his face when his gaze met Indra's golden hues.

She remained silent, unwilling to answer his musing.

In amusement, he chuckled and continued deeper into the cave.

The air grew colder the further they walked, the damp scent of earth and decay permeating his senses. In the distance, he could what sounded like a lava stream. Now that he did not have to put up a confident front, he could not help but wonder where he was being taken. What fate awaited him?

"For your information, you will not be able to kill me. Believe me, many have tried and failed."

That was the thing about him. Unlike other demons who were birthed into a hellion from an angry spirit, he simply could not die. His soul was oddly already undead and the Underworld was unwilling to accept his spirit.

"I will be reborn again with all my memories."

"Who said anything about killing you?" she mused and he could hear the simper in her tone.

His face dropped in surprise.

A sense of foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach at her words. What was she going to do to him then?

Luciano had managed to maintain his composure up to this point because, deep down, he held onto the belief that he would survive and be able to recount the story of the Minotaur's uprising before their inevitable demise. He was convinced that he would be the one to bring about their extinction as retribution for what they had done to his loyal hound.

However, her words had planted the seeds of doubt in his mind, causing them to grow and consume his every thought.

As they ventured further into the depths of the cave, the jagged walls seemed to converge, creating an oppressive sense of confinement. The passageway narrowed, pressing in on them and amplifying the feeling of claustrophobia. With each passing moment, his breaths grew shallower, and a creeping sense of panic began to take hold as he came to a stark realisation of the perilous situation he was in.

He desperately strained against the unyielding restraints that bound his wrists, but they seemed to constrict even more in response to his struggles. He hated how utterly helpless he felt in the hands of his captors. What was the reason for their treason? Was it the banishment his father had dealt out to them? According to rumours he had heard in the castle, Indrameque's mate tried to take his father's life.

What did they expect would happen, that Lucifer would turn the other cheek?

He blinked against the darkness, trying to keep his wits about him, avoiding the rocks underneath his feet. It along with the echoing silence were his only companions. The journey felt endless, a twisted and labyrinthine path. His mind raced desperately searching for a way out, for any chance to escape.

"Princeps Tenebris," he heard a loud whisper in an eerily sing-song tone cutting through the silence.

He flinched away, glancing around in paranoia but nothing seemed to be there. His voice barely above a trembling whisper, he asked the minotaurs, "What was that?"

"What was what?" the creature rumbled, its deep voice reverberating through the cave.

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting frantically. "You did not hear that?"

The minotaur gave him an odd look but seeing his terrified expression caused him to furrow his brow in concern. For his own safety perhaps. "I heard nothing."

"Do not fall for his ploys," Indra said to him dismissively.

Luciano could still feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he stared into the darkness, the eerie whisper still echoing in his mind. His name had definitely been muttered into the open space, the words dripping with malice. Were there spirits trapped in the caves of Umbral?

"He has returned to us," he heard another voice, different from the first.

"Something is here," he proclaimed after almost springing out of his skin, refusing to willingly walk deeper into the darkness promised. "I am telling you. You need to stop."

"Keep walking, demon."

The more he struggled the tighter the metal grip around his wrists became. They were definitely not alone in this cave, this cursed place. He could sense some ancient evil in the shadows, creeping across the walls tauntingly as if waiting to strike. Was he seeing things? How come the minotaurs were oblivious to this?

Eventually, the passage opened into a cavernous chamber, the flickering light of torches casting an eerie glow over the scene. The sudden brightness forced him to close his eyes, and when he cautiously fluttered them open, they widened in astonishment as he took in his surroundings. Runes on the floor and smoke fluttering from a ceramic bowl. The realisation of his perilous situation dawned upon him with sickening clarity.

This was no ordinary cave.

He had been here before… when he was younger.

Darkness descended upon him after a harsh breeze wailed in the chamber and in the black blanket, he caught two eyes gleaming with a malevolent intensity, staring back at him. A chill ran down his spine as a slow, sinister smile spread across the darkness. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

At first, he could not fathom what he was looking at until he glanced around the walls of the cavern, and more eyes gleamed in the same fashion. Their presence was familiar.

"Welcome back, little one."

"It's him. It's actually him."

"Princeps Tenebris."

The whispers continued to haunt him, the one repeating his name like the laughter of some ancient, malevolent entity. A deep guttural chuckle echoed through the cave and the presence creeping around in the shadows seemed to draw closer to him, their auras of menace palpable. He pressed further away from them, wishing to disappear but the eyes followed him, unblinking, unrelenting.

With each forced step, he felt himself being pulled deeper into the heart of a nightmare. The shadows lengthened towards him, the whispers grew ever more treacherous and louder. He involuntarily pinched his eyes shut and dropped down to his knees, trying to block out their tempting whispers.

"What the hell are you doing?" he heard one of the minotaur demanding somewhere in the loudness of the whispers.

"His wings. I want his wings."

"Oh, how magnificent he is."

"We missed you, little one. Are you here to stay?"

Growing fed up with their taunting, he angrily yelled through his clenched jaw, "Be quiet."

Immediately, the whispers disappeared and after fluttering his eyes open, he noticed that the flames were torched again, chasing the darkness away.

"Afraid of the dark now are we, Luciano?" Indra mused playfully, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

He glared at her menacingly.

Whilst struggling against the iron grip of the minotaur, his wings fluttering helplessly when with a powerful tug, he lifted him by his restrained wings. His sharp hooves clicked against the ornate circle carved into the ground. The air was noticeably thick with the scent of incense.

These were not things which belonged in the underworld. Runes and incense were things of the surface world. 

Which warlock had they gotten in touch with to obtain such things as incense?

"Stop," he pleaded, struggling to fight against the churlish beast.

The minotaur dragged him back deeper into the ancient chamber. His heart raced as he was forced down onto his knees within the ritualistic design beneath him.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his voice unwittingly trembling with concern.

The minotaur did not respond, only turning to retrieve a glinting ceremonial dagger from a nearby altar.

Luciano stared up at him, unimpressed. "Even with all these runes, you still won't be able to kill me."

Silently, the minotaur approached him again, his height swallowing the confines they were in and the blade gleaming in the flickering torchlight.

Even though he knew that he was safe from death, he still tried in vain to break free, but the restraints were unyielding. What kind of sorcery was this? No wonder he was unable to break out of his restraints. The minotaurs were in cahoots with a warlock? How had they travelled to the surface world under his father's nose?

Did they use the succubus to traverse to the realm of the living?

Grabbing him by the hair, the minotaur tilted his head back, the dagger poised at what would be the vulnerable spot of most.

Luciano could not help growing rather bored at this display. Glancing up at Indra with a daring smirk, he said, "See you back in hell."

Without uttering a word, she cast a fleeting glance at the minotaur restraining him and subtly nodded, silently signalling for the minotaur to proceed. In anticipation, Luciano instinctively shut his eyes tightly, preparing himself for the excruciating impact of the impending blow.

Yet the fatal strike never arrived.

Instead, he sensed the sensation of his hair being meticulously snipped. In bewilderment, he cautiously opened his eyes and observed his captors, both wearing expressions of amusement. The minotaur then approached Indrameque who gracefully extended her hand for him to deposit the strands of his dark silver, freshly cut locks into her palm.

Perplexed by their actions, he murmured stupidly, "What?"

"I told you, there would be no sense in killing you, Luciano."

"Who holds your leash, Indrameque?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her curiously. "The succubus?"

She let out a disbelieving chuckle, her eyes rolling in exasperation.

After taking a deep, calming breath, she glanced down at her hand. The puppet by her side obediently extended the dagger he once held to his neck and Luciano tilted his head to the side in intrigue, watching her with intense curiosity. With deliberate slowness, she brought the blade to her palm, pressing it firmly against her skin. Not a hint of a flinch crossed her face as she bore into her own flesh.

Violet essence dripped from the cut, staining the strands of hair in her hand. Tightly, she fisted them, her eyes closing unwittingly and then she started to violently tremble.

Her palm opened and the hair floated up into the air.

Under her breath, she uttered quietly with her eyes narrowed in determination, "Vim tuam aufero."

At first, nothing happened.

Within the ritualistic circle, Luciano remained motionless with his expression unreadable. Patiently, he glanced around to see if there had been in change in anything from whatever incantation left her lips.

But then, slowly, the runes drawn meticulously around him began to glow one by one, illuminating the shadowy chamber.

Immediately, a low, guttural sound escaped his lips involuntarily as he felt a kick in his abdomen, almost knocking the breath out of him. His limbs began to twitch involuntarily and he doubled over, gasping for breath. What was happening to him?

He slowly ascended from the ground, the sensation of weightlessness enveloping him as he felt the very essence of his being being sapped of its power. Everything was getting sucked out of him. His breathing grew harsh and rasp as panicked thoughts ran through his mind. Was she draining his powers?

Indra watched impassively, her jaw set.

The brilliance of the ancient runes grew more intense, weaving an unbreakable web around him, leaving him utterly helpless in the air. Despite his efforts to stifle it, a cry of agony broke free from his tightly clenched lips.

Once brimming with pride and disdain, he now felt a flicker of terror.

Whatever this force was, it surpassed any torment he had ever known. He had misjudged her and now he was enduring the consequences. Trapped and devoid of power, all he could do was squirm in anguish with his once unassailable pride reduced to nothing. The once vibrant energy that surged through his veins now resembled a vast emptiness, a void that seemed to engulf him entirely.

He slowly lost consciousness.

High above, Luciano emerged through a portal and immediately began to plummet into the void.

For a heart-stopping moment, there was only the roar of the wind and the dizzying sensation of free falling. His body cut through the clouds, slicing the mist as he accelerated downwards. The wind whipped through his hair as he hurtled downwards. Still, he was reeling from the effects of the spell cast on him by that charlatan. He had never felt so at peace and yet so terrified in his life.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the ground rushed up to meet him. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable impact. The thunderous crash reverberated through the streets as his body slammed into the pavement. Bones shattered on impact, his limbs twisting at unnatural angles.

Immediately panicked screams rang out from the onlookers who had witnessed his plummet unfold before their eyes.

Luciano lay motionless, his vision blurring. The searing pain was almost unbearable. With dawning horror, he realised that he was still alive, trapped in his broken shell of a body.

"Somebody call an ambulance!"

"Where did he come from?"

"Oh my God, I think he might still be breathing," someone in the crowd said and then that same mortal crouched down in front of his motionless body. Blue hair, the mortal he had toyed with recently. "Can you hear me, sir?"

What a moron…

As the world started to fade to black, he heard what sounded like the wailing of sirens growing louder and louder. He wondered if a medical vehicle had been called for him already. That was unusually fast.

"Watch out, a police pursuit is coming through."

In his utterly vulnerable state, body battered and broken on the cold, damp ground, his vision escaped him entirely and gradually became obscured by a veil of darkness.

"He cannot die."

"What of us? How shall we escape these bonds?"

"How dare you worry about us? What of the prophecy?"

"Princeps Tenebris."

A strange sensation began to wash over him. The familiar whispers that had once filled him with dread when he was in the cave now oddly became a source of comfort for him, as if the very essence of whatever ancient spirit trapped in the cave was guiding him.

He could feel his shattered bones reassembling, the jagged edges mending, his limps snapping back into place with a series of unsettling cracks. A pained grunt escaped him.

His eyes snapped open, and what greeted him was a sight that awed him. The right side of vision, once clouded by the darkness, now burned with a crimson glow, a vivid crimson that seemed to emanate from within. He blinked in confusion, opening his eyes again, the world around him had now transformed, the shadows now twisting and churning in blood, as if responding to something that had awakened within him.

"Oh, what the fuck?" the blue haired mortal who was standing over him sprung away when he rose up to his feet. "What the fuck is this voodoo shit?"

After blinking rapidly, his crimson vision finally disappeared and he glanced around in bemusement.

He was in the realm of the living.

In his confusion, he stumbled around, his mind still a hazy fog. The world swirled and shifted, reality blurring at the edges of his eyes.

He jumped when an obnoxiously loud honk sounded in the air from the vehicle which had screeched to a halt before him. The mortal within the vehicle shouted impatiently, cutting through his disorientation.

"Get out of the fuckin' road, you idiot!" he yelled, waving his fist in the air angrily.

Shakily, he stepped back, narrowly avoiding being struck by the car. The driver glared at him, face twisted in rage, before accelerating away with a screech of tyres.

He ran a hand through his long hair, feeling the sweat beading on his eyebrow which was twitching. He could not make sense of anything with his scrambled mind.

What is happening to me?

Closing his eyes, he tried to steady his breathing, to find his centre. He did not feel alone in his body. Something felt bizarrely different…

Before he could ponder on that, he shook his head dismissively. First things first, needed to find a way back to the Underworld to warn the hellions of this treachery.

After taking a deep breath, ready to take flight.

But when he stumbled forward instead of floating up in the air, he slowly glanced over his shoulder perplexed. And his eyes bulged out of his skull. Where his magnificent wings once proudly extended, there was now only emptiness. Where were his wings? Panic surged through him as he frantically searched for any sign of his feathered appendages, but they had vanished without a trace.

Stumbling back, he stared wide-eyed at the empty space behind him, his heart racing in his chest. The crushing burden of his newfound powerlessness descended upon him with overwhelming force. Devoid of his majestic wings, he was earthbound and essentially robbed of the exhilarating freedom to glide through the boundless skies.

Consequently, he was stranded, unable to embark on the journey back to the Underworld.

Indra had thought of it all.

"Bitch!" he screeched irritably and the mortals around him consciously distanced themselves from him, watching him as if he an enigma.

This was definitely premeditated.

"Father!" he yelled desperately, clenching his fists as he fought the rising tide of despair. "Chester!"