between hell.

II

act one: the limbo

part two: scorched wings

Watch me.
I will go to my own Sun
And if I am burned by its fire,
I will fly on scorched wings.

-Segovia Amil.

NOLAN ASHWORTH

The tilted cigarette wedged between Nolan's fingers was already burning his skin. It was making an impression, adding to the long list of scars already on his body.

Nolan breathed the fresh air of Neconair, and cherished the silence of the dark night. As Nolan tilted his head, he saw the broken moon, clouds and darkness seeping through the cracks like paint on glass. Coruscating orbs dotted the black canvas which reached out for the horizon. A zephyr kissed his exposed neck and he let out a low sigh.

A dainty hand, reached over his shoulder and picked the cigarette out of his hand. "Nolan Ashworth. Do you want me to throw in the dungeons for violation of hygiene?"

He already knew who it was before he turned to look. "There is no such thing." He replied, staring at the view sprawled before him.

Neconair had always been the most beauteous, of the four kingdoms of the Realm. A city where emerald trees tore through the sky, the shadows covering the variegated blossoms and meadows which inched the hickory earth. The sun which shone on the leaves, a silver lining appearing on their edges, a sight so simple yet so beautiful.

Yet, nothing, nothing could erase the traces of violence, war and destruction that haunted Neconair, a ghost looming over the pasts of the people there, not allowing them to move on. Nolan was one of them, one of those unfortunate. No matter how much he tried, the scars ran too deep. They were not just on his body, but on his heart and his soul.

Nolan glanced at his hands. They had yielded swords and they had broken families. The slits on both his wrists created a black hole in his chest, consuming his existence. He went back to the first time when he'd washed up on the shores of Neconair and he'd staggered and walked to the closest building. After he'd opened that door... it had changed him forever.

"I do, actually." Elaura's voice broke his long chain of thoughts. She stepped into the peripheral of his vision, and Nolan glanced in her direction. She took a long drag from the cigarette before she threw it on the ground and crushed it underneath her boots. Soft locks of platinum blonde hair crowned her head like a diadem. Her coal black eyes were a stark contrast to her pale skin. She was unnaturally prepossessing, her mother's daemon features were extremely prominent. The moonlight glinted off her heightened cheekbones as she turned her head to look at him.

"Nolan, what is it?" He knew she could tell he was thinking about something. But he didn't want to talk about it.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

*

Nolan Ashworth awoke in the middle of the night. Other than his heaving breaths, he was greeted with deafening silence. He didn't remember why he awoke, but his pounding headache told him the reason.

Constellations spun into the cloth of the very night, seemed to graze the edge of the bed. Nolan had always loved the night, for it bought surprises, even immortal minds failed to imagine. He swung his body off the bed and made his way towards the balcony.

He hung his head letting his chin touch the frigid railing, as he saw Elaura standing at the entrance of the mansion. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was tapping her foot in impatience. She was probably waiting for Abner.

Abner Daxtan.

He'd taken Nolan in, after his mother had been sent to Svehelleh, for murdering a Court minister in cold blood. She'd been sent to that hellhole, and had been there for sixteen years. He was pretty sure she was dead.

Worst thing was, he didn't even care. He was born, without sympathy, without emotion, without morals or virtues. He didn't care his mother, if she was alive, was probably working herself to death to make sure she could see her son again. He didn't care, even if that labelled him heartless.

That was Nolan Ashworth. Without emotion, without heart, without soul.

He let his gaze fall to where Elaura was supposed to be standing. A wave of panic washed over Nolan. It could also be that she went back to her room. Geez, Nolan. Don't be such a pessimist, his conscience chided. But it was in his blood to be sadistic and assume the worst.

He had to go look for her. Even though, she would be probably punch him later for invading her privacy, he had to take that risk.

He grabbed his grey shirt, that was draped over a chair, a gun, his angelus dagger and he rushed down the stairs. He cautiously opened the door and stared at the view stretched out before him. He took a deep breath and entered the Ieanfine forest.

*

Juniper trees surrounded Nolan and he felt like an elf amongst giants. Green leaves tinted by the undertone of silver added to the chartreuse allure of the forest. He hadn't spotted Elaura and, his worry was starting to increase with every passing second.

He was close to the Dimere now, and just as he was about to turn back and leave, he heard the crushing of dry leaves under boots. His head whipped in the direction of the noise and it seemed to be coming west of his direction.

His feet led him closer and closer to the Dimere. He was near the banks, when he saw Elaura. Her porcelain hair was covering her face as a figure hunched over next to her, muttering words that Nolan failed to decipher.

Elaura was bent over something and she was rocking back and forth.

"Elaura." He couldn't help himself from calling out her name. It felt foreign upon his tongue. Elaura's shaking silhouette turned and her hickory eyes were red. His headache worsened. She got up and she sprinted towards him.

Nolan failed to get a clear look before she threw her frail arms around his neck and pulled him down to her level. That's when he realized he was so much taller than her. He felt her racing pulse and heard her pulsing heart. She'd completely buried her face in the collar of his shirt and he froze. She was crying. He had never seen her cry. Not when she had been whipped by Abner for talking back to him nor had she cried when Nolan had accidently broken her wrist in a fight. She hadn't cried even when Abner had humiliated her in front of the Regime by telling her, she wasn't worthy enough to become Head. She had never cried.

"Laura," He whispered in her hair, "Laura, what is it?"

She suddenly pulled back and her bottom lip trembled. "Abner... it's Abner. His body washed up at the shore. He's... gone." And, she broke down again.

Nolan didn't cry nor did he feel anything. Except a thirst for revenge.

The assassin hadn't just killed Abner. The person had messed with Elaura, his family. And, no one could mess with Nolan's family and be alive.

Nolan was emotionless, he was ruthless. And, he was going to make sure that was going to be the assassin's last thought.

*