Chapter Text
The story begins… with the angelic touch of creation.
An angel, brought into the world by light and joy, spread his wings and soared through the clouds. Only… he flew too high.
With one dark mistake, a snip of the angel’s wings fell from the clouds, dropping the magical blood along with it.
A root of evil sensed this power and crept towards the dripping feather, harvesting its magical abilities for her own gain with just one, soothing song.
Then—the angel came with it.
The dark cloud slithered away just in time as the angel crashed down onto earth, wrapped in his glowing feathers, lost and confused.
Before the evil could sweep in, a gentle and young woman came to the angel’s aid.
Soft hands met angelic fingers, and the angel, Lucifer, had met the woman of his dreams; Lilith.
Love blossomed like a glowing flower, and eventually, the two would marry and rule over a boisterous and prideful kingdom. Music swelled through the kingdom like a bright beam of hope, lifting the voices of each and every citizen and dreamer.
Eventually, that joy became complete with the birth of the king and queen’s daughter—Princess Charlotte Morningstar.
A beautiful baby girl with the eyes of her father and the charming voice of her mother’s magic. The daughter was not born with the king’s angelic upbringing, and this caused the root of evil to strike up a devilish plan.
The evil festered in the shadows, waiting… until one moonless night.
The wicked force crept her way into the castle, seeking Lucifer’s power. She swept into the royal bedroom and snipped a feather right off of the king’s wings. When the feather stopped glowing and crumbled into her hands, she knew what had to be done.
Silently, she stalked the room in darkness before rising right above the queen’s head and striking her for good, taking her name and face for her own benefit.
The cries of the princess jolted the king up in a hurry. When he awoke, all he saw was blood, no sign of his daughter and the tall figure of who he assumed was his beloved wife.
“I tried to save her, darling,” the queen cried out to him, tucking him into a tight embrace, fingers lining his twitching wings. “We must leave.” her hushed voice urged. “And forget our kingdom for good.”
The dark whispers infiltrated Lucifer’s mind, and with that, the root of evil snuck out of the castle, petrified king in her deceitful arms.
The princess’ cries echoed through the night with no one to come to her aid.
The fallen angel was kept high in a tower of promise and fake assurance, thinking his poor daughter is long gone, not ever knowing he once ruled a high and mighty kingdom, all under the fake guise of someone he thinks he loves.
Princess Charlotte learned to grow on her own terms. She took her mother’s fallen crown, ruling alongside a faithful partner that would go on to become captain of the Morningstar guards.
She believes her father is out there, somewhere. She knows what she saw that night, and she won’t give up until he comes home.
Every year, on the anniversary of the fallen angel’s descent onto earth, Princess Charlotte releases hundreds of lanterns into the sky, hoping that one day, her father might see them and return safely to his kingdom.
The shining sun cast down upon the tip of the tower like a glowing halo. A soft breeze swayed along with the sound of singing birds.
Spring flowers began to bloom around the grass, waiting to be picked and flourished.
A gentle hum echoed through a single opening that allowed the fresh air to waltz its way inside.
The tinkering sounds of something squeaking occurred within an angel’s hands. “This is it,” a voice muttered. Then came a playful laugh.
“The one… the only…” another few squeaks rattled. “The fire-breathing duck-tastic-showman!” Lucifer whirled around, presenting a small rubber duck with a top hat. He squeezed it and it let out a soft quack with a roaring flame.
“I think this one’s the winner, Basil,” Lucifer said, looking over at his pet snake slithering up his arm. It let out a quiet hiss and Lucifer frowned, glancing back at the fire-spewing duck.
He softly sighed as his eyes roamed around his tower. Not one corner was free of piles of make-shift rubber ducks, all discarded and thrown into the shadows for his next wonderful creation.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Lucifer said. “This one’s a no-go too,” he mournfully sighed. Just as he whipped around, the duck slipped through his fingers. “Oh–! No—! Wait!” he shrieked, bouncing the rubber toy around in his hands, trying to fan its flame before it set the floor made entirely out of wood on fire.
If Lilith came back to a burning tower, that would be—
“Gotcha!” Lucifer finally grasped it, its flames dying out just in time. “Woah–!” he yelped, tripping over his own two feet and landing face first into the creaky floors.
Basil slithered down onto the floor and gently hissed near his face.
Lucifer pouted. “Don’t give me that look,” he huffed. He flopped onto his back, placing the rubber duck onto his abdomen. He looked down at it with sad, curious eyes. He gently tapped its head with one finger.
“Welp,” he sat up, flinging the failed duck into yet another pile of discarded toys in a dusty corner. He got to his knees then hopped up onto his feet, gazing up at the painted ceilings of the tower.
If there was something else that kept his attention away from drowning the tower in rubber ducks, it was painting.
Painting memories. Or… dreams. He couldn’t really tell. He assumed they were dreams. After all, he doesn’t quite remember dancing in big ball rooms, rowing on boats and ruling an entire kingdom with Lilith.
Still, they felt so… real.
Lucifer let his wings spread, each individual feather dazzling in the sun that sprawled through the stained glass on the very high pointed roof of the tower.
He grinned, swooping up buckets of paint and a few dozen paintbrushes. Each finished art work he flew by felt like a distant memory, calling him, begging him to return.
He touched a gentle hand against a sprawl of red and gold cascading down the walls. A castle he has no real recollection of ever owning. But, in these faint dreams, it was home.
Lucifer shook his head and flew towards a work in progress over a small closed window. He stuck his tongue out to the side, dipping a small paint brush in the bucket full of yellow paint. Then, he began.
Basil slithered his way up the stairs and over railings, watching his owner line the last free space of the wall in the tower.
A dozen strokes of dark blue and yellow later, and his work was done.
Lucifer’s wings flapped. He floated backward, admiring his handiwork in awe.
“The floating lights…” he softly said.
Every year, without fail, on the same day, he could see dozens of floating lights paint the sky miles away.
A day that would be approaching soon.
His fall.
The day he fell and met earth’s ground.
Were the lights a sign from heaven? Were they calling him back? He didn’t know. But, he was determined to find out.
Lucifer dropped the paint brush back into the bucket and whirled around. “Today is the dayyyyy!~” Lucifer dramatically sang, swooping towards Bazil and scooping the golden snake into his hands. “I have it all figured out,” he grinned, spreading his fingers towards the sky.
“I’ll ask Lilith,” he confirmed mostly to himself. “I’ll ask Lilith to go see the lights!” he danced around in the air, wings dazzling like the glistening sun in the sky. “Oh, Basil, it’ll be so romantic!” he squeezed the snake.
“Just me and her,” Lucifer softly sighed, a memory of false hope blinded by romance flickering behind his eyes. “Together, under the twinkling lights of mystery,”
Basil hissed, a sound of uncertainty that the love-sick angel didn’t register.
“Lu!” a familiar voice called out from beyond the tower. “My love!”
Lucifer’s eyes glistened as a soft gasp escaped his mouth.
"Luci, come spread your wings!”
“Coming, my love!” Lucifer set down Basil before eagerly speeding towards the opened window. He peered down, seeing the gorgeous face of his one and only love. Lilith.
He grinned, cautiously letting his legs step onto the forbidden air outside of the tower. His wings flapped, glistening like pixie dust in the sun.
Lilith peered up at him. A smooth smile painted her lips and a knowing gaze glinted beyond her eyes.
Lucifer didn’t pay attention to it. He wrapped his arms around her waist, gently hoisting the two of them back up and through the window. He set her down carefully. Lilith hummed in satisfaction, slipping out of his hands with practiced ease.
“Those wings of yours must be so heavy to haul around,” Lilith teased, smoothing down her purple dress. “Tell me, love, is it hard?”
Lucifer tilted his head. “Not for you, darling.”
“Of course,” she smirked. “Then I do not know why it takes you so long.”
Lucifer went tense. Lilith’s laugh cut through the tension like a knife. “You know I love you, my dear.” she bent down, gentle hands pulling his chin towards hers. She planted a kiss onto his cheek and then moved away.
Lucifer blinked and then nervously chuckled. “I love you too, dear.”
“I know,” Lilith said. She peered around the tower, watchful gaze landing on mountains of rubber ducks. “I see you’ve been… busy.” Basil slid around a beam holding up the roof, hissing quietly, peering down at the towering woman.
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it!” Lucifer lit up in an instant.
Lilith’s smirk faltered just for a moment. Lucifer quickly jumped in her face, wrapping his hands around hers and pulling her forward. “Darling, I have a wonderful idea for the both of us to—!”
“I’m feeling awfully stressed,” Lilith smoothly cut him off. “Would you mind singing for me, Lu?”
“Oh,” Lucifer blinked. He felt himself shrink but nonetheless nodded. “Anything for you, Lily.” he sheepishly smiled. He pulled her towards a chair and quickly sat her down. He flopped to the floor and popped his wings out, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“Heaven, gleam and glow,
Let your power shine,”
Lilith ran a slow and deliberate hand through the glowing feathers, prickling each one with the tip of her fingers.
Lucifer continued, each soft lyric enchanting his feathers.
“Make the clouds reverse,
Fly back what once was mine,”
Lilith sighed, breathing in as the angelic magic pulsed through her fingers, swirling into the single red crystal hanging around her neck.
Lucifer’s wings twitched in anticipation. Before Lilith could speak, Lucifer twirled around as fast as lightning, grabbing her hands. “So, darling!” he started. “What I was saying before—”
“You’re quite eager today, aren’t you?” Lilith cut him off once again, standing up. Lucifer didn’t let her hands leave his.
“Yes, well,” Lucifer glanced around, nervously. “A.. very special day is coming up.”
Lilith cocked her head and hummed.
Lucifer smiled. “My.. anniversary,” he said. “Of… when I fell?”
“Oh,” Lilith took her hands out of his. “Is that so?”
“I’ve read that some mortals call that a birthday, I think,” Lucifer spun around, flailing his wings out. “And, I thought, maybe for this… anniver-birth-day–” he dashed towards his new art project, unveiling it from behind a red curtain. “We could.. See the floating lights.” he swallowed. “Together.”
Lilith stared, face dropping in disbelief. Then, her smile returned. “Darling, we can see stars every night from the tower.” she turned, reorganizing some things in her basket.
“Uh, yes, that’s true..” Lucifer muttered. He glanced over at Basil who hissed and nodded as if he was urging Lucifer to continue. Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath. “But, darling, these aren’t stars!” Lucifer stared up at the painted lights. “They move. Not just twinkle. And–!” he flew downwards, surprising Lilith.
“They only appear on my anniv—birth..day..?” Lucifer struggled for a moment before shaking the thought away. “Wouldn’t it be romantic, Lili?” he swooned, taking his hand into hers and kissing the gloved knuckles. “To see these floating stars… together?”
Lilith’s eyes narrowed with a knowing gaze. One Lucifer started to understand.
“You want to go outside?” Lilith’s tone dripped with something dangerous.
Lucifer’s grip loosened on his wife’s hand. He blinked up at her, feeling smaller than before. “Well—” he stammered. “I just thought—”
Lilith’s heels clicked closer. “You want to leave me?”
Lucifer’s heart dropped. He felt his wings fall, shrinking behind him in fear. “No—No!” he urgently exclaimed. “Love, Lili—Of course not, I—We would go together—!”
Lilith raised a gloved hand forward to brush his cheek. “Do you know why we’re in this tower?”
Lucifer didn’t answer.
Lilith’s eyes felt sharper looking down at him. “To keep you safe.” she whispered. “Those monsters that hurt—No,” she pulled him closer, urging him to look up at the small painting the angel had done of what little memories he had of their daughter.
“That murdered our precious little girl,” Lilith’s tone wavered, but something dark echoed beyond those words. An echo Lucifer couldn’t quite discern.
Lucifer frowned, instinctively drawing closer to his wife, leaning his head down onto her chest. A warmth surrounded him like an unfamiliar feeling of protection.
“They will hurt you too, Lu.”
Lucifer wrapped his hands around her waist.
Lilith sighed, leaning her head onto his, one hand combing through his soft, delicate locks. “The world does not understand you like I do,” she stated. “They will only see you as a tool. Hunt you for power. Think of you as a fallen descent of evil.”
Lucifer leaned in closer, squeezing his eyes shut. Painful dreams flashed into his mind. The sight of blood sprayed across the walls. Shouting voices. Swords and spears pointed at his chest.
Lilith smiled, satisfied. She gently pulled his shoulders back, forcing him to look up at her. “Lucifer,” her voice came out soft. But warned. “Do not ask to leave this tower again.”
Lucifer glanced between her eyes. His feathers caved in and he nodded, slow. “Of course, my love.”
Lilith hummed. And then magically frowned. “I hate seeing you like this, Lu,” she tenderly rubbed his chin with her thumb.
Lucifer forced a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Lili.”
Lilith cooed. “Tsk. Don’t be,” she gently removed his hands from her waist, stepping back. “I must leave now.” she smiled, whisking the basket back onto her arms. “Do you have any market requests, love?”
Lucifer folded his hands. “Um,” he thought for a moment. “Flour?” he tenderly asked. “To make pancakes?”
Lilith laughed. “Oh love, you are too funny,” she teased, a joke Lucifer wasn’t quite fond of. “Don’t worry. I will return with your flour.” She turned on her heel, waiting by the window.
Lucifer blinked. “Ah–Right!” He spread his wings out, cupping her waist into his arms and slowly descending down the tower until Lilith’s heels met soft grass.
“I won’t be long, my love.” Lilith gave him a quick peck on the cheek before waving and trotting off into the mysterious distance Lucifer unknowingly longed for.
“I’ll be waiting!” Lucifer called out to her, flying back up to the tower. “As always,” his voice dropped, watching his beloved wife move through bushes and vines, leaving the vicinity without his hand in hers.
He let out a long mournful sigh, his chin falling into his hands as he rested against the wooden window sill.
Basil snuck up the walls, slithering into the window and wrapping himself around the angel’s hands.
Lucifer smiled, a sadness in his eyes gleaming down at his companion.
Hope did not flicker away just yet. Something still yearned in him, hoping for a romantic night under the stars and gleaming lights. So close, yet so far out of his reach.
A crackle of footsteps descended down the castle roof tops. A waiting princess longed inside, unbeknownst of the criminals dancing above her head.
Polished shoes slid down with ease, coming to an abrupt stop.
The clicking of two sets of heels followed behind him. A groan rolled off the woman’s tongue. “Get your act together, pretty boy.” The woman flicked her poofy ponytail behind her. “We can’t wait here all day, now can we?”
Alastor hummed, staring down at the grounds of the kingdom crawling with victims waiting to be thrown into dark alleyways for him to feast. “Come now, dear,” he chuckled darkly. “I’m only enjoying the view.”
“Well, enjoy it less, bitch.” A taller man stepped forward, cocking one hip to the side. “Don’t get too comfortable with us now,” Valentino warned, adjusting a smooth red robe around his waist. “We don’t listen to your orders.”
Alastor grinned, tapping something sharp hidden within his pockets.
“We’re only humoring you because Vox wants us to,” Velvette snarkily added.
“Ah yes,” Alastor tucked his hands behind his back and turned in their direction. “Vincent is quite adamant on watching me, isn’t he?” Alastor cocked his head with a twisted smile. “I suppose I am quite inspiring,”
Valentino and Velvette shared a glance before rolling their eyes. Valentino tightened the rope in his hands with an uncomfortably sharp grin. “Less talky, more let me tie you up-y.”
Alastor cringed, the edge of his smile twitching in disgust. Unfortunately, he listened and walked forward.
Velvette helped Valentino tie the rope around Alastor’s waist. Valentino snickered, pulling it tight and pushing him just a bit too far towards the roof’s opening.
Alastor rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath.
He wasn’t willingly working with them.
Vincent—Or—Vox, was so petty over their little disagreement that he sent his goons to watch his every move through the kingdom, always one annoying step behind him on his heels.
Quite pathetic, if you’d ask him.
Alastor held his breath as Velvette lowered him through the castle’s roof. He let his feet touch the maroon carpet without a sound, standing just behind two moronic Morningstar guards.
Alastor moved his hands behind himself, feeling around until he was able to scoot all the way behind the display case of the lost king’s glistening crown.
He grinned, flicking it open with the tip of his knife. He watched his surroundings carefully, picking up the crown with ease and shoving it into a tattered old satchel.
Alastor flicked his brown bangs out of his vision. A guard coughed, catching Alastor’s attention.
His eyes narrowed with a dangerous grin. “Tis the season, isn’t it?” he cooed.
The guard chuckled. “Yeah,”
Then—
“Wait—”
SLICE
Alastor dug the knife straight through the guard’s neck, kicking him in the chest with his foot. The guard beside him raised his spear in an instant. Alastor swiftly stabbed him in the chest, twirling him around and slamming his face into the display case, the glass shattering across the room, sprawling onto the carpets and slick floors.
Velvette peered down. “What the hell is he doing!?” she shrieked.
“Bendejo! How does this moron get Voxxy so hard?” Valentino threw up his hands. Velvette deadpanned. She pulled on the rope, forcing Alastor’s little murder spree to come to an end. For now.
Velvette yanked him forward, tearing the ropes off of him. “You idiot!” she yelled, tossing him to the ground. “Now the entire kingdom is after us.”
Alastor simply laughed, discarding the rope somewhere to his left. “Please, that’s hardly my fault,” he hummed, closing the satchel shut, the gleam of the king’s crown not escaping Val and Velvette’s gaze.
“Ugh—!” Valentino scoffed. “That rope would’ve fit better up your—”
“We don’t have time for this, Val.” Velvette yanked him by his lanky shoulders. “Come on!” she urged, running down the roof. Valentino swiftly followed behind her.
Alastor cackled, sliding down the roof and jumping between thrown spears and swords from alerted guards.
“There!” the voice of the Princess’ partner exclaimed. She pointed up at Alastor with her spear, a fierce glint in her eyes. “Don’t let him get away.” Vaggi warned, stabbing the bottom of her weapon into the ground. “What are you doing? Go!” she yelled at a faltering guard who quickly saluted her and started to run.
Alastor narrowed his eyes, locking his gaze onto Vaggi’s before ducking behind a conveniently placed chimney.
“Aw–! Come on!” Valentino drawled ahead. He huffed, pulling on his red robe in frustration that was currently stuck under a falling brick. “Hijo de puta! Get—Out!” he exclaimed, nearly tripping over his lengthy boots in the process.
“Val!” Velvette whipped around. “Get up here!”
“What do you think I’m—!” he heaved dramatically. “Doing!?”
Alastor rolled his eyes, amused by the pathetic display. He slid onto his side, ducking below a spear that just barely missed his nose. His grin stayed sharp as he got up on one knee just in front of the fallen brick, catching his breath.
Valentino groaned. “If you’re on your knees, at least be useful!”
Alastor was about to stand up and leave the idiot there to die. That is, if he didn’t see a magnificent opening. He peered down at a guard climbing up the wall with his spear. Alastor grinned much too wide.
He stood up and shoved the brick with one foot. It tumbled down, whacking the guard square in the face just as he reached the edge of the roof. He fell down with a scream and a splat to the castle grounds.
Valentino pulled his robe forward and finally continued running. “Took you long enough, bitch!” he caught up with Velvette who waved him forward, dropping down into a vacant balcony.
Alastor was just dying to be rid of these idiotic goons of Vincent’s.
Alas, they were too good of bait to be thrown off the boat so soon. He just needed to wait.
Alastor dived off the empty balcony and tumbled into a perfectly placed bush. Velvette dropped perfectly at his side. Valentino clipped his heel and inappropriately yelped.
The rustle of horse hooves, shouting voices and sharpened spears rumbled outside the bush.
The trio kept still with baited breaths, just waiting for an opportunity.
Alastor peered out first. The sun reflected off his brown gaze, making it look like piercing red eyes through the dark leaves of the bush.
“This is way too stuffy,” Valentino whispered.
Velvette pulled him down and shushed him.
“You lost them?” Vaggi’s tone exclaimed just beyond the bush’s range. A guard frantically began to apologize. “They dived off the roof, your highness,” the guard said. “We’ll begin a search party right away.”
Vaggi sighed. She clinked her spear to the ground, hitting soft dirt. “Good.” she mumbled. “I need to report this to Charlie… Find them.” she commanded, stern.
The guard saluted and hopped on his steed, hurrying off into the distance.
Vaggi’s footsteps left the area, heading for the castle.
Velvette finally let Val go, sighing in relief. She turned around, noticing the clear absence of the followed criminal. “Hey!” she flew out of the bush, catching a glimpse of Alastor twirling behind a tree.
“That bitch!” Valentino staggered out of the bush, brushing off sticks that were glued to his coat.
“You can’t expect to run off without us noticing, little fawn,” Velvette strutted forward. She spun behind the tree and yanked him by the shoulder. Alastor’s eyes narrowed.
“I was doing nothing of the sort!” Alastor chimed. He peered over at the tree, noticing two wanted posters swaying in the faint breeze, both with bold writing that stated “WANTED. DEAD OR ALIVE.”
One of them displayed the Vees. Vox proudly smiling in the middle, with Velvette on his left and Valentino on his right, both radiating equal amounts of cockiness.
The other displayed himself. And a much too noticeable smile that was almost drooping. Alastor scoffed, tearing the poster down. “Lousy picturesque…” he muttered. “They never catch my charm in these things,” Alastor said, shoving it into his blood-stained satchel, sitting it right beside the glistening crown.
Velvette hummed in agreement, peering at her own portrait. “I have to agree,” She flicked the drawn face of herself. “My outfit never looks that atrocious,”
The stomping of hooves sounded on the small hill just above their heads.
Alastor cursed beneath his perfect smile.
“Ugh, drat,” Velvette tugged onto Valentino, urging him along as they trailed right behind Alastor who smoothly dived behind another tree and started to sprint off.
Alastor leapt over a tree branch. Velvette followed suit. Valentino tripped over it, groaning in frustration, latching onto Velvette in a hurry.
“Noisy interference…” Alastor muttered beneath his breath, watching the idiotic duo stagger behind him. He turned his head back around just in time for him to skitter to a stop before he could collide with a dirt wall.
“Ugh! Great,” Valentino bent over, catching his breath. “I am so not dressed to climb hills today,”
Velvette rolled her eyes, fixing her bangs.
Alastor hummed, touching the blockade with a glove. He grinned sharply and turned, voice smooth as ever. “Lend me a hand, won’t you?” he asked.
Velvette crossed her arms, raising a brow. Valentino deadpanned, adjusting his coat as if to make a point.
“Oh dear, what’s the matter?” Alastor cooed, tapping his gloves against the blood stain on his satchel. “You don’t trust me? How wounding,”
“Obviously not!” Velvette exclaimed.
Alastor rolled his eyes. “Please, I am a man of my word.” he said. “You know the fee. You assist me, I repay the favor.”
Valentino wasn’t buying it. “Give us the satchel first,”
Alastor smirked.
Velvette leant a hand forward, waiting.
Alastor merely laughed. “And here I thought we were making a wonderful partnership,” he mocked, raising the satchel’s strap over his head and slowly and carefully dropping it into Velvette’s hands.
Velvette hummed. “Please, as if you mean that,” she scoffed.
Valentino muttered a string of curse words under his breath. He picked Velvette up and hoisted her over his shoulders.
Alastor grinned. He hopped up, digging purposefully deep into Valentino’s shoulders. Valentino swore. Alastor paid no mind. He gently climbed over Velvette who helped him stabilize himself as he stepped onto the grassy patch, politely taking his time.
Valentino huffed, flicking his head upward.
Velvette clicked her tongue impatiently. “Now get to your end of the bargain,”
Alastor chuckled. “Ah, my deepest apologies, my dear,” he flicked his bangs and displayed the satchel hanging from his finger like a trophy. “Unfortunately, my hands seem to be full.”
“Wh—!” Velvette looked down at the absence of the satchel. Just as she looked back, Alastor was gone, running like the wind.
“YOU SMILING FREAK!”
Alastor continued to run, a wicked grin spread across his face like a madman.
He slowed to a stop, patting the satchel. He opened it, catching a glimpse of the shimmering crown. He hummed curiously.
This was going to be quite the bargaining chip.
He tensed at the sound of distant clapping. Alastor turned, dreading the inevitable face of none other than Vincent himself.
Vincent—Or, Vox—clapped through white gloves. He peered down at Alastor and smirked.
Alastor’s grin didn’t falter. “Finally come to play, have you?”
“Hah!” Vox adjusted his suit. “I’m not the one running. Now am I?”
Alastor stared back with a calculated grip on the satchel’s strap.
“A little birdie told me you were out for the lost king’s crown,” Vox stepped forward, hiding one hand behind his back.
“You must mean your goons,”
Vox laughed dryly. “Call them what you want,”
“I will, thank you.”
Vox finally dropped the smirk. “Alright, enough charades,” he extended an arm. “Hand it over.”
Alastor tilted his head. “Hand what over?”
Vox impatiently thrust forward a stolen sword from a Morningstar guard he must’ve dealt with on the way. Alastor countered it with his knife immediately.
Vox leapt forward. Alastor took a further step back, blocking every useless attack from Vox’s stolen weapon.
“Just—!” Vox swung his sword around. “Give me—!” he swished it over Alastor’s head who ducked with impeccable timing. “The satchel!”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, old pal.” Alastor sneered, managing to kick at Vox’s ankles at just the right moment. Vox cursed, stumbling backwards, sword going flying into a nearby tree.
Alastor cackled, sprinting off.
“Hey!” Vox gained balance and ran after him. “Quit running like a coward!” he shouted, tearing the sword out of the tree.
Alastor jumped around a boulder, doing a quick tuck and roll before speeding off.
Vox grinded his teeth together. He leaned the sword in his grasp way back, calculating Alastor’s movements before throwing the sharpened weapon forward.
Alastor flung his hand up in avoidance, only for the sword to stab right through the satchel and fly into a branch hanging just beyond an intimidating fall.
Vox leapt forward, tumbling into Alastor, gripping him by his vest, heaving wildly.
Both of their heads turned towards the satchel just inches away from disappearing into a distant waterfall.
A beat passed.
Alastor shoved Vox off of him and inched towards the branch.
“No you don’t!” Vox yelled, pushing Alastor down and charging for the satchel himself.
Alastor growled, flinging his knife forward. It grazed Vox’s knuckles. He yelped in surprise, peeling his hand away and nearly tumbling off the ledge.
Alastor chuckled darkly. He managed to get ahead, boots just inches away from what may as well be his calculated demise. He reached forward, swiping his hand a few dozen times to reach the satchel.
Vox wrung his hand out before creeping behind the criminal.
Just as Alastor managed to finally grab the satchel’s strap, Vox kicked him down, laughing manically.
Then—CREAK.
Both men paused.
Before—
“SHIT!” Vox scrambled, hanging onto the falling tree branch with his entire body. Alastor swore under his breath, holding on to the branch with one hand, his other clutching the satchel for dear life.
The branch went flying downwards, snapping in half on a single sharp point of the hill that stuck out. Vox’s screams faded out as Alastor braced himself for impact and a face full of grass.