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Chapter 6 is here! Varabol will learn who is this Vyshelmuth character and why

Credits to  utunu for helping me copyedit.
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Requiem for a Death God - Chapter 6: Kyrie (3rd movement)
By Whitepython

Sbinoa’s reaction was the opposite of what his wolf brother was known for. Until today, he had always been the cool-headed soldier under desperate times.

During Visandro's mother’s funeral, Sbinoa remained serene while Varabol and the rest of the adoptees were mourning loudly after losing such a kind mare.

And during Borles’s funeral two months ago, all he did during the burial of his lifelong hunting partner was to pin his ears, tuck his tail, and keep his hands fisted and fangs peeled.

A hard wolf like him would never break down if this wasn’t a matter of utmost delicacy.

“Let me- let’s start this over again just to make sure I heard this right,” Sbinoa said. Fear was in his voice even if he had partially recovered his serious posture. “Are you completely sure that Visandro took the Seven Crowns of the Sun with him? Are you certain that he specifically mentioned that he was going to give it to Vyshelmuth?”

“Th- That’s what I think. He said something about that ‘sun-crown’ thing. And before leaving, he said something like: ‘Vyshelmuth will get the sun’ and ‘you all pay.’ ”

“Visandro… You fucking stupid horse-” Sbinoa said. He tossed his fork over his plate before pressing his paws against his face. “Why didn’t Zantazar tell me this earlier? Because he’s also fucking stupid! Both are fucking stupid. Like stupid father, like stupid son!”

The mood on the table was as grim as if a doctor had told Sbinoa that he had only a week left to live. Whatever Visandro was planning, it was something sinister. Unfortunately, it was also something that Varabol ignored thanks to his urge to be accepted back into his clan.

“Who is that Vyshelmuth guy?” the demon hunter asked as he tried to understand what was wrong with Sbinoa.

“Not here. Finish eating, and then we will go somewhere private to talk.”

* * * * * * *

Next to the Rosecup, there was a small park. This park and the surrounding buildings were dated from the first two hundred years of the almost 500 year old city. The structures stood as the restored ruins of a convent where nuns were trained in both holy and healing skills many centuries ago.

But now, the former convent was transformed into two blocks of one storey buildings, Rosecup corner included and a park right in the middle. The park was surrounded with trees so old that their branches were thicker than what Varabol’s own body could ever be, and their trunks even wider than Kau’s big, muscled chest. In the center of the park, there was also a stone fountain preserved from the times of the convent. Also, eight metallic benches were placed around the fountain in an octagonal formation. Both demon hunters sat on one of them.

The only tall structure that could be partially perceived in the vicinity was Hotel Emperador. Its half circular pediment with the number ‘1527’ poked above the treetops a fair distance away.

“Do you wish to know who Vyshelmuth is?” Sbinoa asked after his brown eyes scanned the surroundings. “Are you familiar with Demonic Knights?”

“Demon Knights?” Varabol shivered at the question. “Aren't those supposed to be the most powerful among the mightiest of demonic lords? I know that Demonic Knights are an elite group of thirteen demons, whose powers make them welcome to stand at the service of the court of shadows and the spawns of the God of Darkness? Don’t tell me he-”

“That’s right. Vyshelmuth is one of the thirteen Demon Knights, but his power goes far beyond that. Vyshelmuth is a demonic lord so sagacious and so well versed in the demonic arts that he can use his own demonic aura to bring death to any demon, angel, or mortal alike with the simple touch of his fingers. In mortals, it is said that even the slightest graze from his fingertips will manifest in the most terrible agony, making the victim writhe in absolute pain as their internal organs fail and rupture one by one before bringing the victim to an excruciating death.

“The rest of the demonkin, including the rest of demon lords and ancient demons alike, feared this skill so much that Vyshelmuth earned himself the moniker of the ‘Death God’.

“His might and his wisdom have been so venerated by the demon kin through the ages that it is said that Astroreius himself, the demon lord prince of all demons, traveled to his realm known as the circle of Gishemol, and invited him personally to become part of the Demon Knights. And not only that, he was assigned to protect the one and only princess Gamyreius, the eldest of the demonic princesses.”

Once Sbinoa was done explaining himself, Varabol was as speechless and as fearful as his wolf brother was at the Rosecup.

The sound of fountain water landing in its basin filled the conversation abandoned by both hunters. Wind blew some of the small water drops from the fountain over Varabol’s green scaled skin. Small creatures played in the surrounding vegetation while a couple others roamed for food around the park, blissfully unaware of the fact that a demon with such power existed.

“H- how in the name of the Hallowed angels can Visandro make contact with a demon that powerful?” Varabol said. He tried his best to not freak out like Sbinoa did. “H- how can a mere mortal like Visandro have such power?”

“I have no idea, Tailbones,” Sbinoa said before turning his attention to the fountain.

“I can’t believe that. You worked side by side since Borles died. You must know what’s going on better than anybody else.”

“Just because I worked with him for two months? If that’s the case, you must know him better than even Zantazar. You worked side by side with him since you tossed me and Borles aside so many years ago.”

“Hey! I never tossed you aside. Visandro told me that if I did it, Father would be very proud of me.”

“Yet you saw how things ended up for you all because you listened to him and not me!”

“I- You don’t have to tell me twice!” Varabol said. He sighed as the shame of disappointing his wolf brother forced him to look down. “Back then, it was like a dream come true.”

“But the rightful owner of that rank was Borles.”

“You have told me that a thousand times already! Now I am not a Ghost Soldier anymore, and Borles is dead. What do you want me to do? Do you want me to tell you that it should have been me who died in that mission and not him?!”

“I- Right...” Sbinoa shook his head. “My apologies. I am so tired and frustrated.”

“We would spend our time better if you explain to me more about Visandro and the solar thing and their relationship to this demonic knight.” Varabol said and Sbinoa shook his head.

“I don’t know, Tailbones. I know exactly the same as you do.”

“What? You must know more about this than me. Why did you freak out at the Rosecup? That was so unlike you. What’s going on?” Vara inquired, feeling confused.

“I just-” The wolf shifted on his seat before standing up from his end of the bench, turning his back to Vara. “It’s because of Zantazar. He used to boast about the sun before you were adopted. He used to tell us that he possessed a powerful holy ward against demons called the Seven Crowns of the Sun. And then, you said that Visandro took it to give it to Vyshelmuth. I am freaked out about the fact that a demon knight might come against us and we have no ward against it.”

Varabol thought about it for a moment, and that made sense given that Sbinoa had spent more time at the Ghost Soldiers than him. Also, he had always been the wolf go-to for demonic knowledge.

“Do you really think Visandro would try to use a demon to kill all of us?” Varabol shivered in his heating vest. This conversation was getting more and more sinister.

“By Courendriel, I told you already that I don’t know!” His fellow demon hunter turned around with peeled fangs to Varabol. “I learned like 20 minutes ago that Visandro stole the Seven Crowns of the Sun. I-” Sbinoa said before he sighed and shook his head. “By the sound of things, I can deduce that if he tried to murder Zantazar and failed, he is going to ask Vyshelmuth to finish the job and get Zantazar killed.”

That was inconceivable! If Zantazar were to be killed, it would be like his effort to save his father several nights ago, and the plight he was going through to prove his innocence would have all been in vain!

But not only that. It would be devastating for Varabol to have his adoptive father dying at the hands of a demon. He spent the last ten years of his life training hard to become an elite demon hunter. Thanks to that, he had saved the lives of other anthros from demons. He would feel like his life and training as a hunter would all have been in vain if he ended up losing his adoptive father to a demon.

He wanted to press Sbinoa to talk more about this, but the display of fangs he received a moment ago made him hesitate. So, Varabol decided to focus on another part of the problem.

“Well, what else do you know about that solar crown thing?”

“I already told you what I know. The Seven Crowns of the Sun is both a holy ward and a legendary demon hunting item. And before you ask me, I have no idea how or why Zantazar had it in his power nor how Visandro obtained it, or whatever you’re thinking. I will have to investigate on my own and I will update you later.”

Varabol had so many questions, but he decided to shrink into his corner of the bench instead.

“We have to stop wasting time with questions and move on,” Sbinoa said. “I am going to look for clues on Visandro’s whereabouts in his bedroom, but I am not optimistic on that path.

“Like I told you, he wiped out his room before leaving, and Zantazar gave it another cleaning. But I hope that Visandro might have left something behind in his hurry, something that might also have escaped Zantazar’s old sight that might help. But since I am extremely busy with my workload, you’ll have to do most of the hunting because you’re free.”

“What? I am not that free at all! I am going to sleep on the streets by tomorrow night!”

“If we don’t stop Visandro, he will strike a deal with that demon and that’s bad news for everyone. Even if he decides to only kill Zantazar and leave the rest of us alone, who knows what kind of crazy agenda he and Visandro will try to fulfill after that?”

Sbinoa turned his back to the dragon once again before he resumed talking. “I am sorry to push you even harder, but there’s no other way. Keep your phone near you and fully charged at all times. We’ll meet up again before sunset today. We need to act fast because Visandro has had a 3 day head start already. He could be handing over the Seven Crowns of the Sun to Vyshelmuth as we speak.

“Also, remember to not answer your phone to anybody but me. Nobody in the Ghost Soldiers can know that I am working with you. Let alone that we’re tracking down Visandro. I need to keep myself busy with my assignments so as not to raise any suspicions.”

“But why? Recovering the sun would be a good thing for Father!”

“Zantazar would expel me for disobeying his orders, and that would be what Visandro needs to win. With me still inside the Ghost Soldiers, I can get you weapons or information needed for this case, or anything else you might need. Also, if Visandro shows up and tries again to hurt Zantazar, I am the only one who can fight back. Or if he shows up to surrender, I can speak on your behalf and try to get you back to the clan. So, we must keep this investigation a secret.”

Varabol nodded. All of that made sense to him. “Okay. But, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“We will bend the rules a bit, but we need to figure out if Vyshelmuth has been invoked already, or if he’s still trapped in the lower circles.”

Sbinoa’s dark gray furred hand disappeared into his pants to take his phone out. He glanced at the device for a second before putting it back into his jacket. “Wait for my call.”

After Sbinoa walked away from the small park, Varabol remained seated. He thought about this ‘rule-bending’ ritual. While he didn’t like the idea of bending rules, he had no more option but to submit to Sbinoa’s wishes if that meant protecting Zantazar’s life.

* * * * * * * * *

It was almost six in the afternoon when Varabol descended from the bus that took him back to the Threewater Hills sector. The vehicle stopped at one of the many bus stops that were placed along the Whitewater area. Sbinoa had urged him on a phone call to be at the abandoned clothing factory exactly at dusk time. That was important for the so-called ‘rule-bending ritual,’ and there would be no other opportunity to go through it tonight after dusk.

The sun was already hiding behind some buildings and the sky had a reddish tone, which impelled Varabol to hurry up and find Sbinoa. He zippered up his jacket to try to conserve the warmth emanating from his heating vest. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he was ready to do whatever it took to save Zantazar. If the old equine were to die, there would be no Ghost Soldiers to return to once Varabol managed to somehow prove his innocence.

It was after turning around a corner and walking along a steel fence that his phone chimed with a message inviting him to hop over the fence and enter the abandoned building through one of the many windows.

Among the rubble of some broken down machinery, Vara found his wolf brother. Sbinoa had improvised a table with some bricks and a slightly crooked sheet of metal where he had set up a square, wooden plank. A thin, hook-shaped metallic arm poked from one of its sides where a stone dangled by a thin thread right in the middle of the square surface.

“I was about to begin without you,” Sbinoa said. He released a growl and his brown eyes were closed halfway and locked on Varabol.

“I wasn’t sure which building it was,” Vara said in an attempt to apologize.

“Whatever, get over here.”

Wanting to get it over with, he approached the table with the strange setup.

“So, what is this ‘rule-bending’ ritual you’re talking about?”

“We’re going to try to get a dusk angel to help us divine if Vyshelmuth has already crossed the veil and has ascended already or not.”

“Why is it a rule-bending ritual if we’re working with angels then?”

“Because the dusk can also get other entities invoked. If we’re not careful, we could end up playing with demons. That possibility happens often enough for this ritual to be forbidden altogether by the Church of the Holy Light and all the regularized demon hunting clans. Unfortunately, this is the only option we’ve got with such a short time. But at least, I am hoping to block demons away by using this sacred stone and there being two of us.”

Sbinoa poked the blueish stone attached to the string. It swung above the table divided in two with two thick, black lines that formed a plus sign. The horizontal line of the sign had the word ‘No’ written at the left and the right sides while the vertical had the word ‘Yes’ on the top and bottom ends.

Varabol took one step back from the table, feeling like he stood before a crude version of a Ouija where a demon lord would jump out over him at any moment, but he knew he had to be brave because this was the only way to sort this problem out.

“And what does this do exactly?”

“We’re going to ask yes or no questions while we both touch the metallic hook keeping the stone hovering in place. First, we’re going to ask three questions that we both already know the answer to in order to calibrate the energy and make sure we’re connected to an angel.

“With every question we ask, the energies of our aura will channel the Angel’s response through the metallic hook and vibrate along the thin thread. This will respond to whatever we ask by making the blessed stone swing over either the yes or the no lines.”

“So, can we ask the angel if Vyshelmut is on his way to kill Father?”

“We could ask about anything we want, but dusk angels know a lot about souls or entities who have crossed through the veil. We could even ask them where Visandro is, but since this is a yes/no deal, we would have to make a long list of places we suspect him to be. And the more we ask questions unrelated to things that dusk angels know, the more likely we are to attract demonic entities. That’s why we’re going to ask about entities that haven’t crossed or might have already crossed the veil and that’s it.”

“So, what’s the plan if we get a yes?”

Sbinoa shook his head before growling. “That would be the worst case scenario. If we have a demonic knight wandering here, we will have no more option but to contact as many demon hunting clans as we can and keep them on alert. We will eventually be forced to disband the Ghost Soldiers and split up to make sure Vyshelmuth can’t reach us all.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“Exactly what you heard. We permanently disband the Ghost Soldiers and we all take different directions and we never, ever, see each other again to make sure Vyshelmuth or Visandro or whoever attempts to murder Zantazar cant reach him. If one of us happens to get captured, we can never reveal Zantazar’s location because we lost contact with him and the others for good in the first place.”

If the Ghost Soldiers were disbanded, what was Varabol supposed to do? He would never be able to work as a demon hunter alongside his brothers ever again. He would never be able to bring Visandro to justice and to prove his innocence to Zantazar. He would become nothing but a faceless shadow, doomed to wander the world with no aim or purpose but to evade being captured by Vyshelmuth until the day he died.

No more Ghost Soldiers, no more living in this town, no more hanging out with Kau, no more being the elite demon hunter he was for the rest of his life!

“We can't disband our family!” Varabol said. “We need to fight back and send that demonic knight back to the lower circles!”

“Do you believe that you stand a chance against a Demon Knight? A Demon Knight feared by even ancient demons? Even if Borles hadn’t died, Visandro hadn’t betrayed us, and Zantazar was strong enough to fight, and all seven of us Ghost Soldiers teamed up and fought back against Vyshelmuth, do you think we could stand a chance of winning?”

“I...” Varabol tried to come up with a counter argument. “We’re demon hunters. That’s what we do. We need to figure out a way to kill that thing!”

“Good luck with that,” Sbinoa scoffed. “If you manage to kill Vyshelmuth, you’ll become a legendary demon hunter for doing the impossible. Other demon clans would praise your name. You can’t kill Vyshelmuth, Tailbones! We need to be realistic here and focus on the matter at hand.”

Vara squeezed his maw shut, regretting having said such a thing.

“Now, If we get confirmation that the demon isn’t around,” Sbinoa continued, “that would mean that Visandro hasn’t done anything stupid yet. Leaving us with an equally hard, but less dangerous job. We will have to track Visandro down and stop him. And to stop him means to stop him no matter what the ultimate cost is...” Sbinoa growled after saying that, his voice deadly serious.

“I know all of this sounds over dramatic,” Sbinoa continued. “But If that Death God achieves ascension, he would have the power to kill all demon hunters, priests, and other holy anthros in Riverstone in a matter of weeks. We need to stop Visandro because there are no guarantees that this Demon Knight could ever be stopped by mere mortals.”

Could so many anthros be in danger because of Visandro’s recklessness? Would that fucking idiot get dozens of lives snuffed out just to get to Zantazar?

If that was the scenario, Visandro was really fucked up in the head.

“I am ready,” Varabol said.

“Hold onto the metallic hook and keep your mind clear, I will conduct the ritual. As soon as this ritual begins, you cannot let go of the hook for any reason at all whatsoever until the whole thing is over.

“And even more important: if any negative feeling comes to you, don't entertain it because it is dangerous. Only through a relaxed mind, can angelic energy flow through your aura and be conducted through the wire. We need to act now because if the sun disappears from the horizon, the dusk will be officially over and the ritual will fail.”

Varabol pinched the lower end of the hook with his clawed fingers while Sbinoa did the same with the top of the hook.

“Angels of dusk. We are Varabol and Sbinoa Alcbalo, and we are willingly reunited here to speak with any of you if you so desire. Is there any Dusk Angel or any other ethereal being of positive energy from the gates of the veil willing to talk with us?”

Varabol observed the scene in silence as nothing happened. This lack of response stressed him, but he remembered that Sbinoa requested that he keep calm. So, he held his breath and allowed his mind to focus on his fellow demon hunter and only him.

Sbinoa repeated himself for a second time. But this time, he spoke at a slower pace. And this time, the tiny blue stone swung back and forth along the vertical, ‘yes’ line.

“Thank you, angel of dusk. Can you tell us if Zantazar Alcbalo, the horse, is of this world?”

The stone once again danced along the ‘yes’ line drawn below it for a couple of seconds before it returned to the place where both lines touched.

“Angel of dusk, may I know if Borles Alcbalo, the badger, is of this world?”

This time, the stone moved on the horizontal line to signal what both dragon and wolf knew. Borles was not any longer among the living.

“Angel of dusk, may I know if Visandro Alcbalo, the horse, is of this world?”

This question threw Varabol back, but he supposed it was all part of the calibration process. And the stone swung again along the ‘Yes’ line. With this being the third question, Varabol knew the moment of truth had arrived.

“Angel of dusk, may I know if Vyshelmuth, the Demon Knight, servant of the demonic princess Gamyreius, and lord of the demonic circle of Gishemol, is of this world?”

Varabol was so silent that he could hear his own heart beating through his ear canals, and his eyes were so focused on the stone on the thread that he was almost one with the thing. Varabol wanted to have a ‘No’ so badly.

But the thing became unresponsive once again...

Sbinoa once again repeated the question about Vyshelmuth’s whereabouts. But even if he spoke slowly, the thing remained stuck as if nothing had been asked of it.

And for a third time, Sbinoa asked his question. His voice reflected his frustration in having no response from the entity that was so willing to talk a couple of moments ago.

“Did we lose contact with the angel so fast?” Sbinoa asked before turning his head to the side, and Varabol followed the motion. The solar disk was still barely visible on the horizon.

“We’re still in dusk. What’s going on? We can’t give Visandro another day ahead of us!” Sbinoa said, struggling to suppress a snarl.

Varabol knew that if tonight was the night that Visandro got in contact with Vyshelmuth, his adoptive father would be as good as dead. Perhaps even Sbinoa, Vrimidio, Remetrio, and himself would follow his father shortly to the grave.

Or if this demon knight kills Zantazar before disappearing, what would happen to the Ghost Soldiers? What would Varabol do? Would he ever be able to live with himself knowing that his father died cursing his name and his existence for something he didn’t do? Could Varabol live with himself knowing that his father passed away wrongly believing him a traitor?

No! He couldn’t lose his father without recovering his love and acceptance first!

Once again, and clearly stressed out, Sbinoa repeated his question on Vyshelmuth. And once again, the swinging stone flat out ignored his request.

Sbinoa turned his gaze once again to the horizon to notice that the solar disk had practically disappeared from the firmament with the exception of a tiny little portion that poked out in the distance.

“Let’s close the ritual and-” Sbinoa said before getting interrupted.

“Angel of dusk!” Varabol shouted as he squeezed the metallic frame on the hook with all the frustration he had bottled up since being unfairly expelled.

“Ta… Tailbones! Stay collected like I told you,” Sbinoa commanded.

“We can’t give up!” Varabol hissed angrily.

“Varabol!” Sbinoa yelled as well. “It’s over, we’re not getting-”

“Angel of dusk! Tell us right now, in this very instant, if Vyshelmuth, the demon knight, has been invoked into this world!”

“Varabol! What in the name of the Hallowed Angels are you doing?!” Sbinoa said. After that, he snarled at Varabol.

“Angel of dusk! Where is Vyshelmuth?” Varabol said before hissing in anger and raising his pseudo wings. He squeezed the hook so tightly that the device was bent towards him. “I demand to know if Vyshelmuth, the demon knight, is of this world!”

“Tailbones, that’s enough!” Sbinoa shouted his command, as angry as the dragon was.

“We have to know what’s going on!” Varabol said with an anger that matched his brother’s rage. “Visandro is somewhere out there with the Seven Crowns of the Sun looking for a way to contact Vyshelmuth so he can betray Zantazar. I am not moving from here until we know what is going on with Vyshelmuth!”

As anger and frustration kept both hunters tense, the blue stone came to life on its own like it did before. The item swung fast along the ‘no’ line. But the same external energy made the thing suddenly change paths to the opposite end, making the divination stone suddenly swing along the ‘yes’ line.

Yet, the spectacle was far from over.

The thing swung in random, diagonal patterns at an increasing pace before the stone suddenly froze at the very top, as if this energy was pulling it towards the ceiling.

Varabol felt his breath growing short and every corner of his body to be filled with adrenaline, and the terror on Sbinoa’s eyes made it clear how bad things were.

As the stone remained tensed towards the ceiling, it suddenly was let go so it spun in erratic motions. Every second it passed, the thing spun with an ever increasing intensity until it became too hard to see due to its extraordinary velocity. The energy grew even greater in a matter of seconds until the string connecting the stone to the hook broke with a mighty force that sent the blue stone flying in an unknown direction.

A confused and fearful Varabol stood dumbfounded as his fingers still clung to the now crooked hook.

“Va- Varabol!” Sbinoa shouted so loud his voice echoed in anger inside the abandoned and deserted place. “You idiot! What the fuck did you do?!”

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