Chapter 65 - Not Forgotten
Without the bellchimes and the artificial day and night, the concept of ‘morning’ loses all meaning. Alex isn’t sure how long he slept, and even the internal ‘time-sense’ that Corvus taught him to use seems a bit fuzzy. Or that sensation could be from the velvety black fur rubbing against his cheek. Cracking open an eye, Alex finds his view obscured by a mess of crimson hair.
He’d fallen asleep curled up with Uril held against his chest. The smaller goat’s stature makes Alex the default ‘big-spoon’. His cheek rests against the back of Uril’s neck and he can feel the steady rise and fall of his boyfriend’s breathing. His Boyfriend. That sentiment never fails to cause a hitch in Alex’s thought process. Even with all the crazy things going on around him since his arrival in Hell, it’s Uril that causes his brain to misfire. The rest, he can seemingly just take in stride.
The harrowing events of the past day seem distant with the warmth of the goat’s figure pressed back into his own. Alex gives a contented sigh, breathing in the subtle scent of Uril’s fur. It’s a natural smell, tinged with the slightly floral-scented soap that the goat’s fond of. The mingled scents provoke a mental image of a summer meadow, somewhat at odds with the sultry and provocative behavior that Uril is known for. But it still fits, in a way. And to Alex, it’s the smell of comfort.
In their time together, it’s only the second time that Alex and Uril had slept like this. The first time had been when Alex was hit by that backlash and passed out. This time, it was a choice. Well, as much of a choice as could be made when both had collapsed from exhaustion after the crisis. Uril had offered to have Alex join him in his bed after the first couple nights together, but that had still felt like a step too far. At least for now. The confusing and new emotions and feelings are still sorting themselves out in Alex’s mind and heart, even with how much Alex is coming to love how Uril makes him feel. So Alex had been sleeping in the common room, and Uril gave him the space to process it all.
That nature of Uril’s, making the options always available and on offer but never applying any pressure, is part of what makes Alex so comfortable with exploring the budding relationship between them. Alex still isn’t sure if he thinks of himself as ‘gay’, all he knows is that Uril’s companionship gives him a sense of belonging, it makes him feel good. He doesn’t need a label or a definition, Alex just wants to understand himself. As those thoughts swirl in his half-awake mind, that ephemeral tug on Alex’s sense of direction seems to quiver, changing alignment subtly.
Uril focuses on keeping his breathing steady and even, laying completely still. He can feel that Alex had woken up, from the slight change in breath and touch. His innate incubus talents tell him that Alex is feeling desire, desire aimed at him, but also not. It doesn’t have the flavor of sexual need, of lust and carnality, its taste is more light and ‘fluffy’ quality of curiosity and novelty. He doesn’t want to disturb Alex’s introspection, so he lays there quietly, savoring the moment in a way only one of his kind can.
The incubus revels in the micro-reactions that Alex has to whatever is going on in his head. He’s fairly sure Alex isn’t even aware of what he’s doing. Every now and then, the hand on his hip would flex slightly to grip just a little more. Or Alex’s cheek against the back of his neck will rub and press a little closer. Alex’s nose will nuzzle up under the edge of his hair, warm breath puffing slightly as Alex takes in the scent. The roll of the body to press just a little tighter against Uril’s back, legs pulling in to curl just a little more fully against the curve of his ass. Each motion and touch is a microcosm of sensual desire, blending into a medley of signals that give Uril all the reward he needs for his patience.
Then he feels Alex pull his arm tighter around him, encircling his chest and hugging him closer. Uril lets out a contented sigh and leans into the embrace, careful to keep his snout tucked down so that his horns stay out of the way. But that just gives Alex more of the back of his neck to nuzzle into. When Alex relaxes again, Uril reaches back and rubs a hand along Alex’s leg. “Mmmm, good morning to you too.” He whispers, letting just a hint of his usual sultry flare tease into the words.
Alex just responds with another squeeze and a soft laugh. “Good morning, I…” But Alex is cut off as the light in the room suddenly fades out, plunging everything into darkness. Both of them hold their breath, obeying an instinctive primal urge to freeze when suddenly unable to see. It doesn’t last long though as the ambient light of Hell gradually seeps back in. The moment lost, Alex gives one more nuzzle into Uril’s hair before disentangling himself and sitting up.
“Damn faulty enchantments are trying to turn back on.” Uril grumbles as he levers himself up into a sitting position too. “Hey! Wait until we get power back before you turn nighttime on again!” He mock-shouts at the ceiling with an upraised fist.
That gets Alex laughing and he leans over to give Uril a proper hug. “I imagine things are gonna be wonky for at least a while.” He says, then shrugs. “But I know basically nothing about that type of magic. Just a guess that the bigger and more complicated the spell, the harder it would be to fix.”
Uril snorts and nods. “Yeah. Most likely, someone’s going to completely disable or erase the existing ones so they don’t do more harm before they can get repaired.” He hugs Alex back, and can’t resist planting a kiss into the curve of Alex’s neck. The reaction is instant, making Alex suck in a breath as a full-body shiver runs through him from head to toe. Uril lets out a pleasant groan as Alex squeezes a little tighter. “We should just stay in today. The less people mucking around out there, the better.”
Alex winces, but slowly nods his agreement. “Yeah, probably for the best. Dale did say that we wouldn’t be doing any deliveries until the dust settles, so no pressure there.” Then Alex looks around, noticing for the first time that Corvus isn’t present. Hara is still curled up a couple feet away, making little grunting snores, but there’s no sign of the crow. “Where’s Corvus?”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“I am nearby.” The reply comes as if the crow-demon is still in the room with them, but there’s a distant quality to the voice. “I am atop the building. While my Deal with you, Alex, prevents me from rendering direct aid to you, I am doing what I am able to assist the city as a whole.”
With a bewildered expression, Alex asks the open air. “Wait, you can still hear me though?”
The response comes back preceded by a mental chuckle. “Haha. Yes, in a sense. Essentially I am spreading my senses across a wide area. So I do hear you, but I was not specifically listening for you, until I heard you say my name.”
Outside, Corvus sits perched atop the edge of the roof, several floors above Uril’s apartment. Once more, he has shifted his mantle to that of The Carrion Lord, embodying the greater portion of his Apex potential. He can feel them, all the unfortunates who didn’t manage to find safe shelter before the blast hit. Trapped under rubble, sealed inside rooms by debris, stranded and alone. To each he sends a simple message. “You are not forgotten.” Not by The Carrion Lord. With Alex safe and secure, Corvus is able to turn the full attention of his Sliver to the city at large.
In the hours that the others had been sleeping, search parties had begun to sift through the ruined portions of buildings. Corvus gives nudges to guide them towards those who need aid the most. And as they’re found, one by one, Corvus feels them taken beyond the domain of his Title. No longer forgotten, no longer discarded. Restored, in some small manner.
Overall, the city had suffered far less damage than Corvus had feared. Without the intervention of Leviathan, and those with enough power to meaningfully act, the outcome would have been drastically different. Uril’raya’s comments from the previous night still sit sour on Corvus’s mind, and it rankles his nature as The Carrion Lord.
It leaves him caught between two warring conclusions. The first, that his Title has a critical flaw in its application. Something must already have been forgotten and discarded before it can fall under the sway of his Title’s power. Even if it’s he who contributed to that condition, however tangentially. And the second, that his two Titles are clearly at odds with each other. If he excels as The Guide, he diminishes the potential harvest for The Carrion Lord. But somehow, both Titles exist within him in a harmonious balance.
Titles have always been an arcane mystery. Entire organizations work to untangle the way Titles operate. But every time they think they’ve nailed down a hard rule about them, several Titles are found that prove it false. The only concrete things they have found in millennia of research are the ubiquitous truths that are innate in the Titles.
Corvus chuckles to himself, musing that perhaps with Alex’s ravenous curiosity, he should set the boy on those mysteries. Once Alex has the power to stand on his own, and no longer needs a guide.
Back inside the apartment, Uril starts doing a more thorough inventory of the damages. “No electrical systems are working.” He says, flicking a light-switch back and forth ineffectually. Next he heads into the kitchen area and twists the knobs for the sink. Surprisingly, a trickle of water does flow. “Water sort-of works. But no pressure. And probably not purified.” He frowns, having seen the massive cisterns with their numerous enchantments before. “The structure seems mostly intact, but there’s some cracks.” He muses, pulling one of the wall-curtains aside to look at a thin break in the stone wall.
Alex follows him, providing a second pair of eyes. “We can’t be completely sure about the building. There might be more damage in other apartments.” He says with a wince. “Not that we can do anything about it.”
But Hara could. The hellhound trots up to where Uril is looking at the damaged wall. “Hara can fix.” She announces, wagging her tail slowly. The hound hadn’t quite been herself since Leviathan’s mental broadcast. The feeling of such an immense presence had scared her badly, and then the following events had left her even more rattled. It wasn’t until her pack had made it home safely that she finally started to calm down. Hara hates the weak and helpless feeling that had been stuck in her head since the previous day.
Uril quirks a brow. “You can do stone-shaping?” He asks, a hopeful grin spreading across the goat’s muzzle.
Hara nods. “Hara can fix stone. Watch.” She says, then fixes her attention on the crack. She concentrates, focusing on the broken rock the same way she’d made the bowl, the same way she’d saved Alex from falling down that tunnel. She wills it to obey her. With the sound of rock grinding on rock, the cracked surface fills in. It’s gradual, but true to her word, Hara seals the crack. The fix isn’t perfect, leaving the wall with a ‘smear’ in the stone that doesn’t match the surrounding material, but it is whole again.
But she isn’t finished. In coaxing that crack to seal, Hara had ‘felt’ others. More broken stone, more places that need fixing. Their den is more broken than the others can see, but Hara can feel it. She’s tired of feeling helpless, feeling small, feeling weak. Hara is stronger than that. Hara can help too.
Letting out a growl of concentration, the Stone Hellhound sinks her intent into the stone again, asking it to heal the wounds left in the structure. She will protect her pack. She will protect their den. She Will.
The sounds of grinding stone echo from almost every corner of the apartment, making both Alex and Uril need to cover their ears from the noise of it. Hara stands motionless, paws planted firmly in the plush carpet with her attention seemingly focused on the already fixed wall. But from the cacophony of sounds, she’s doing far more than fixing just that one crack.
“Holy shit, is she…” Uril trails off as the noise grows distant and starts to fade. “Is she fixing the whole building?” He regards the focused hound with a bewildered look. It’s easy to think of the girl as just being a smarter than average hellhound, but this display reminds Uril that she isn’t just an animal. She isn’t Alex’s pet.
Alex’s grin spreads ear to ear. “Yeah, she’s pretty impressive.” He says, resisting the urge to pet her while she’s focusing. “She’s used this power twice to save my life.” He explains. “Though, I think the first time was an instinctive accident.”
After a few more heartbeats, Hara relaxes a bit, blinking her amethyst eyes. “Hara think Hara fix it.” She says, looking over to see Uril’s surprise and Alex’s proud expression. She wags again, a canid smile spreading across her lips. Then she slumps down onto the carpet, utterly spent.

