Abaddon

Chapter 8 : Master And Servant

“Aunty?”

The word slipped out before I could stop it. For a beat the tent felt too small, as if the sound hung there and waited.

I stood frozen, watching them. Uriel smiled—brief. “Hello, Lilith,” she said softly. “I’ve missed you.”

Lilith stepped back, eyes bright. The edge in her voice had gone. “I’ve missed you too.” She glanced at me, then back to Uriel. “What are you doing here, Aunty? Are you here for the battle?”

“No,” Uriel replied, steady. “We’ll speak of that later. Right now I need you to help a friend.”

She flicked her wrist. The portal opened again and Elise’s limp body rose from the dark, pale as paper.

Lilith didn’t hesitate. She rushed forward, dropped to her knees beside Elise, and spread her hands. Her chant was soft and sure, like a prayer someone had spoke a thousand times.

“Oh blessings, rain on me.

Do not allow judgement override mercy.”

Her voice filled the tent and the air grew warm. Mana pooled in her palms until green circles glowed and spun. Elise lifted, wrapped in a shimmering shield like a cradle.

Lilith rose and met my eyes. “She’ll be fine for now,” she said.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. Relief hit me so hard I had to nod. “Thank you, Lilith,” Uriel said quietly, genuinely.

Silence settled after that small thanks. Then Lilith spoke, blunt and cold. “I know we should have called you. We just didn’t want to bother you.”

Uriel’s old edge snapped back. “Bother me? Look around, Lilith. Knights are suffering because I wasn’t here to help.”

Lancelot bowed. “My lady, we apologize. We had no idea things would get this bad.”

Uriel was not calm. Her eyes flashed. “And when it got this bad—why was I not informed? When the Leviathan appeared, why did I not receive a single message?” Her words fell sharp into the tent.

They had no answer. The question cut the room in two. I stayed near Elise’s floating form, watching the exchange like I watched two storms collide.

Uriel straightened, voice cold and commanding. “Gather what is left of our forces at the central camp. From here I will lead this battle.”

Lilith and Lancelot hesitated for a moment, then bowed and left at once, efficient and silent.

Uriel turned to me. The fury drained from her as if poured out. She smoothed her dress, tugging at the hem to steady herself.

“Sorry you had to see that,” she said, softer now.

I shook my head. “No—it’s fine.” I kept my voice low. “Thanks for all your help.”

Her face shifted. Color rose in her cheeks and she offered a small, private smile before looking back at Elise. “Lilith said she’d be fine.” She paused and, as if reaffirming it to herself, added, “She’ll be fine.”

“You believe in her that much?” I asked.

Uriel nodded. “Yes. Lilith might not look like it, but she is an Archangel.”

“An Archangel? And she’s your niece?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise.

Uriel made a little sound—half laugh, half sigh—and turned her face away. “That’s a story for another day.” She folded her hands and looked down at Elise, then back up at me. “Right now I need you to stay here and protect Elise.”

She hesitated, and the next words came sharp and urgent. “I shouldn’t need to tell you this, but if things go bad—if you’re ever forced to choose between staying and fighting and getting Elise out—you run. Do you understand?”

My answer came before I thought. “What? No. I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to.” Her tone hardened. “Yours and Elise’s lives are too important to lose.”

“Important? What do you mean?” I asked, anger and confusion rising.

“Just leave if it comes to that.” The command was backing into a plea now. “As your master, I am ordering you.”

Then, her eyes betrayed her. Tears glinted and she looked away before they could fall.

The tent hummed with noise: boots, shouted orders, the distant clamor of men gathering. Inside, Elise floated in green light. Outside, the world tilted toward a storm.

Uriel’s command hung between us like a blade. My chest tightened. I had no answer that could change her mind. All I could do was stand there, feeling the weight of what she asked—order and plea wrapped into one.

Her voice came again, quieter. “Promise me, if it comes to that, you will carry out your decision to save Elise.”

The words landed heavy. Elise’s life meant everything to me, but Uriel—Uriel had given me a second chance. She had remade me. I owed her more than words.

I refused.

“No. If it comes to that, I’ll make sure Elise is safe—then I’ll come back and fight. I’ll stand by my master.”

She gave me a sidelong glare, sharp and unreadable. Then, slowly, it softened into defeat.

“Very well. Do as you wish.” Her voice was reluctant.

She turned then to the gathered knights—armored men and women, weathered and ready—led by Lancelot and Lilith. The tent shifted; all eyes found her.

The air was thick. The room held its breath. Then she spoke.

“Crusaders!” Her voice rolled out and filled the tent. “I apologize for my late return. I was not informed of your plight. I mourn those who have died and I grieve for those wounded.”

She paused and bowed once—a brief, unexpected humility that stilled the crowd.

“Forgive me.”

Murmurs rose and fell. Uriel let the silence sit a moment, letting her words sink in. Then she pressed on, voice lifting.

“Outside there is an enemy. One enemy that threatens us all. A Leviathan. Not the beast of ancient war—but a creature we can defeat. If we work as one.”

She let that settle. The men and women before her listened, breath held.

“Work with me my knights and I will bring you victory! For Honor! For Humanity!”

The tent exploded. Cheers ripped the air. Weapons struck shields in clanging rhythm. Men and women chanted, voices lifting into the rafters.

“For Honor! For Humanity!” they echoed, hitting the words like drums, carrying them out into a camp already bracing for the storm.