To the Victor goes the Spoils/Continued

Author's note: I own nothing! Drat!

Had Hell ever been this alive before? Yes, but not in a millennium or more.
War
Leviathan was declaring war.
Walls were going up, weapons sharpened, every able bodied independent cenobite was on a virtual standby. The demons were in a state of ecstasy, running rampant in places, leaving senior cenobites the task of restoring order.
The souls knew it, more were being changed, and the torture sessions were further and further apart. The God boomed his instructions, Exstapis and the gash hand picked their troops.
Separate from it all Xipe Topec watched with cold, calculating eyes. Nothing escaped his gaze, the god walked with him. They needed days, only a few more… The matter of how they would exit hell had not been revealed, but it was of little concern. The God would provide.

His consorts kept a distance, frightened by how distant he had become. His Order however, was constantly at his side. His first was to his left, her head always lower than his, but her eyes were hungry… it had been too long since enemy flesh had split under her hand, she remembered the feeling, and the longing for it was a fever within her. The great machine of the labyrinth revolved around their feet, the noise was deafening.

“When?” she hissed softly.

“Soon.” Came his frosty reply.
-
-
“Have we really considered this?” Dreamer raised an eyebrow, looked at Angelique.
“What?”
“I said…” She swung her legs over the side of Topec’s bed, her expression thoughtful. “Have we really thought about this? Faintly, very faintly, I remember the last Great War. We were fighting on our own soil then. This… we do not know, you see? There is too much we don’t know.”

Dreamer made as if to reply, stopped. “The God will provide.” She replied.

“It’s not that simple!” Angelique sighed, frustrated, “Behemoth is not coming here, we are going there. It’s always more difficult to invade than it is to defend.”

“For us, that is a fallacy.”

Both turned, Topec stood in the doorway, the blue light of the labyrinth cast his shadow over them, his breath was frosty. “It is safer for The Labyrinth, that we take the war to he who was cast out.” He entered the room, one hand stretched out to them. Both came and knelt at his feet, brushing their cheeks against his fingers.

Angelique stopped in mid brush, slowly, her chin turned up until she commanded his gaze. “This will not clean, Topec, the wounds you seek to rend may never heal.” Her eyes were dead, and prophetic. “This will not end well… not for he, nor our God. The second throne must be filled.”

Topec pulled away as though burnt. He looked at her is quiet disbelief, Dreamer did the same. Angelique’s eyes stayed locked on His, and as empty as before.

“Princess…” He shuddered, closed his eyes. Without another word he turned sharply away from them both, exiting the way he had come.
-
-
The open air chilled his skin, he breathed deep, smelt stale sweat and vanilla on the fog. He remembered a great hall with opals adorning the walls; adorning the flesh that had sired him… They had been as black and dead as her eyes. His throne was buried there still, buried since the night the pillars fell.
The two thrones, to be filled by the two priests, two warriors under the two gods. With both thrones filled by the proper lines, it was said hell would regain the glory that had vanished with the banishment of Behemoth. A myth, even Hell had them. He remembered that glory, but too well he remembered the chaos that had walked with it hand-in -hand.

A sound drew his attention from himself, eyes narrowed as the two Lords of hell regarded each other. Exstapis averted his eyes, bowed his head. Topec began to walk, ignoring the gesture, feeling the youth fall into step beside him. They walked in compatible silence for a time, drawing the mood off of each other, feeling the ground below their feet. Things had changed between them after the invasion of hell. The chains, meant only to serve the head of the gash, were now acknowledging them both. It placed them on a field they had exited as broken contenders’ years before. They sized each other up when attention was diverted, even now seeking weakness.
The wiring placed within by the god proclaimed them rivals for power once again, urged them to fight and decide the score. If that was to occur, Topec would not be the one to set the powder burning. Something far more important was the focus now.

“We have two hundred explorers; all are ready at a moments call.” Exstapis stated, his gaze strait ahead, his stride matching the North Winds effortlessly.

“And gate guardians.”

“There are three thousand gate guardians. I will enquire how many The Engineer needs to have remain.”

They parted as silently as they had walked, Exstapis paused, looked back at the retreating figure, his sire. His breath caught. Something deep inside told him this image would not survive their war. It was as if looking at a statue, something from a world of somewhere far away, as ancient as the stones. But a statue could be dropped, it could shatter without a moments warning, leaving one lost in the loss of such priceless art. A part of him wanted to ask the God if the Prince of Hell could remain behind, to guard the doors.

A small smile fell upon blue lips, Exstapis turned…“ Well all right, no prayers tonight. But I will miss your presence in this place…
So many years have passed… did you stand by and watch them drown?
Too much time under your bridge, too many who would burn you down…”

He sighed, walked to a cross section and stood looking down the paths.

“…I saw you first through my wandering gaze; your icy aura woke me to the greater maze…
The first time you held my eyes, I was such a foolish and questioning child…
I thought in that moment that I understood, one day I would surpass you, I was sure I could!
But when we met at daggers and the time had come, the furies all ran wild…
And now I see you stand, alone and cold, as you have ever been…
And I hear the voices calling you… stay back, you cannot win…”
…
“It’s strange that I can feel this sensation,
I could almost call it fear…
That when the dust has settled, I will turn,
…And you will not be here…”

A soft sound, a cenobite passed close by. The silence descended easily once again. In the distance the God called, in the distance the war brewed, in the distance fate waited with open jaws…

“Do you believe in power? Do you believe in gall? Do you believe, in passion or pain, in anything at all?
Do you believe… that when the gates…
Are opened, and there we fight-
Tossed to some distant light-
That you will win? That you’ll live to see the night?”

Well I believe, that you’ll fail then! Shattered and broken-disillusioned and wasted,
Lost to Leviathan!”

Exstapis stilled… his breath came in a cold hiss. His fists clenched, then loosened and lay at his sides. A small, almost mournful smile curled his lips…

“I now will make a prediction,” He whispered, “my gut tells me is true…
Before the last battle of this war will be fought…
I will see the death of what cannot be re-caught,
The last slain will be you…”

Author’s note: Poetry inspired by Die Unstillbare Geir, from Tanz der Vampire.