An enraged screech rang in Jean's ears as the witch's halves fell to the ground. He looked back, then up in time to miss the beam of energy that emitted from a massive dark cloud encircling the entire isle, scorching and destroying more land. A familiar, responding roar followed the interruption of the energy, and he watched the demon emerge from the dark cloud as if it had been attacked. He squinted, then realized.
"Celezar!" he called.
"I got him, Jean," came the response. "There's more happening below that needs your attention."
His brows furrowed, and as he lowered to the ground, he reached out with his senses while scanning his surroundings.
The airport was destroyed, nothing more than a smoking heap of metal. His lips tightened, but he saved his concern until the battle was over. Continuing to look around, he caught sight of--
Eyes wide with horror, he swiftly flew close to the ground upon spotting none other than the green plant demons from the Roanoke Islands.
From what he could see, there was a huge horde of them, and they were heading downhill--to the manor and the Cellar. Rolling and pulling themselves over the ground, they seemed to be lacking their eggs. But the large ones, all the size of the one he fought in the final nest in the underground, did. Unfortunately, they led the charge to the manor. Brandishing Ringe, he began to shoot at them.
"Jean!"
An unfamiliar voice brought his attention to his lower left. Running on all fours in the same direction he ran in was a red-skinned demon with shining black eyes that lacked definition. He looked familiar, and Jean didn't sense any hostile intentions from him.
"What?" he called, body tense.
The inhuman scoffed. "Don't remember me, eh. Fucking figures. I came with the Wisks!"
"So you're an ally?"
"What's it sound like?" Jean had the impression that the dark eyes rolled in their sockets. "I'll take care of the pincers!" he said, motioning with his head at the plants.
Those must be the plant demons. Jean nodded. "Thanks!"
"Don't mention it!"
Jean continued forward but went higher, scanning the layout of the shuffling green demons. They didn't seem coordinated, simply ambling in whatever direction felt most appropriate. Several hunters fought them, and he saw that a large group of hunters surrounded the manor. He sped ahead, weaving through the thorny limbs of the demons when they noticed him, and approached the hunters. He caught sight of someone at the same moment they did him.
"Jean?!" Madeline shouted. By the way she looked at him, she knew he was inhuman. "What are you--?"
"Can it," he said with a hiss, causing her to flinch back. "What's the situation?"
She swallowed but responded, "We're using the manor as a base. Hunters are on the top floors; the servants, women, children, and the disabled are in the basements. We're handling the demons fine, but if they bring any big guns over..."
He nodded. "So you have it under control with the plant demons?"
"Yeah."
"What places need the most help?"
She glanced away, and he heard someone screaming in her ear over the radio. He listened in.
"--assistance on the airstrip! We're overwhelmed by a swarm!"
He began to turn to aid when someone responded, "We're on our way!"
He didn't recognize the voice at first, then he spotted things approaching the isle from around the eastern side. This was unusual to him, as there were no familiar hunters who lived in that direction.
Enhancing his sight, locking onto the shapes in the air, the corner of his mouth turned up. "A fleet is coming," he murmured to himself. Turning to Madeleine, he asked, "Did you call for the Shaw Hunters?"
"The Shaw Hunters?" she repeated, shaking her head. "They never come this far north..."
"Well, someone did." He pointed in the direction of the shapes in the air. "And they brought an army with them."
A woman beside her had brandished binoculars to examine the shapes. Her jaw dropped in shock a moment later. "My god. It's a fleet of helicopters! I see...Burchard, Shaw, and the Laws, and a few more I don't recognize."
Madeleine took the binoculars to see for herself.
Jean didn't wait for her to further react, watching and waiting as the fleet approached while pondering. He was glad that, despite his family undoubtedly spreading the word of his inhumanity around the Hunter Underground, they still had allies. Admittedly, he had been concerned...
Shaking his head, he eyed two vehicles approaching the manor. Hair, material, and snow fluttered, but Jean didn't shield his face as the others did. As the helicopters landed near, at least ten people emerged from both and ran toward them.
A third helicopter, near enough that Jean could see the pilot with his normal eyesight, flew overhead. On the lowest side of the vehicle, the name Shaw flashed in the dim light. He turned away to avoid any gazes.
Gillian Shaw. Jean was both surprised and unsurprised to see him; the man took any opportunity to destroy inhumans. He must have had time to spare, or...someone convinced him to come. Either way...
"Where do you need us, Lowell?" Gillian asked over the radio.
Jean didn't answer. He knew the man well enough that he would be disgusted to even speak with him.
"The airstrip!" Artie responded not a second later. "Stay the fuck away from those things in the sky!"
"Don't have to tell me twice."
A familiar voice asked, "Both of them?"
Jean perked up upon hearing Euphemia's voice, but only for a moment. He thought against responding, but thought it better to. "Both," he said. "One is on our side and it's fighting the Lord. Best to leave the fight to it."
No one responded for the longest time. He began to turn away from the manor when someone finally responded, "Sent."
The last voice wasn't familiar, but he didn't worry about it for the moment. Antsy, he manifested a platform beneath his feet and took to the air.
He had half a second to grasp the edge of the platform and sharply spin away to meet an inhuman gaze as large black claws swiped at him. Drawing Ringe, he spun upright and pointed at the creature as it landed on the ground.
Standing slightly hunched with massive black claws emerging from the tips of equally large fingers, a young man glared up at him. Jean didn't have a chance to assess who he was before a blue tentacle emerged from his back. Curled in the appendage's grasp was a bit of the belt that belonged to the witch.
Jean's shoulders squared.
"You killed my mother." The man took the belt's remains into his hand, scowling, "And your mate will likely kill my sire..."
Narrowing his eyes, Jean waited.
Looking in the direction of the cloud and the two forms fighting, the man added, "Unless my siblings intervene."
A loud, familiar screech emitted from above, and Jean had half a mind not to take his eyes off the man. Despite this, his jaw locked. Celezar had been injured.
The man began to walk backward, his movement predatory yet lackadaisical, taunting. "I'm no match for you as I am now. We'll see you again, Lowell, no matter how long it takes."
The words just left the man's mouth when Jean opened fire, maneuvering the platform beneath him to give chase. With mocking laughter, the man continued backward, disappearing and reappearing with inhuman speed to dodge the bullets.
Fingers moving quickly, Jean spun Ringe back into its holster and took Valk out. Lashing the whip forward, he caught the hybrid by the neck and gave a sharp yank. The man fell forward, and Jean swiftly appeared in front of him with Ringe pointing at his forehead.
While grasping his neck, choking on the consecrated line, the man didn't do anything to fight back. Jean narrowed his eyes. "What are you planning?" he asked with a soft growl.
The man chuckled. "Even...if you kill me, we've--" His laughter broke between coughs, and he raised his head to look Jean in the eye. "We...know...of your family--"
Jean released the trigger, turning the man's head into a bloodied mess of body fluids and gore. He felt his upper lip twitch while watching the Infernal hybrid's body fall over before it corroded into blackness. Exhaling, he lowered Ringe and looked toward the sky.
He wanted to be worried that the Infernal mentioned his family, likely his inhuman one in Connecticut. Instead, he found his thoughts distracted by Celezar's fight.
The moment he sensed it, it was too late.
Several claws dug into his skin as a group of inhumans surrounded him, attacking him simultaneously. Crying out, he dropped his gun, helpless as gnashing, sharp teeth and black claws flashed before his eyes. He hit the ground, unable to see what was attacking him. Ducking to protect his head, he peeked his good eye open to see that human feet had surrounded him, and judging by their scent, they were related to the man he had killed.
"Jean!"
Snarling, he threw at least two of the hybrids off of him, but they were immediately replaced by three more. "Don't lose focus!" he said to Celezar upon sensing worry ripple through their link. "I'll be alrigh--"
An electrifying sensation, painful and deep, ran down his spine. His head snapped back, teeth bared as he roared in pain, and he fell to his knees. The hybrids held his arms out, pinning him down.
Chanting reached his ears. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but it was a powerful spell. The Dark magic seeped into his being, invading his body, and fought against the Light inside him. Sensations became foggy as blood ran from his nose, but he kept conscious with willpower alone.
The hybrids released him the same moment the magic ceased. Panting, he fell to the ground, his body shuddering as it continued warring against the forceful invasion of Darkness inside his psyche.
"How does it feel, Lowell?" one of the hybrids sneered. "Even for an inhuman, you're nothing without your mate."
He tried to regain himself, blinking in and out of consciousness, staring off as another lifted him by his hair to look him in the eye. "Just one attack, and this is what our magic does to him. Such a shame," they tutted, "I expected more from him..."
They slammed his head into the ground, but he didn't even feel the rocks and dirt. He knew why this attack hurt him so deeply, and the recollection of the witch from thirty years ago brought him strength.
He fought through the pain, blinking back to the present. The hybrids spoke amongst one another, wondering what to do with him. Expression darkening, he stifled his hiss of pain and pounced on the hybrid closest to him with a snarl. They tumbled over the grass, snapping, hissing, and clawing at each other, and when they broke apart, both were panting. Jean jumped back, landing hard on the ground and lowering onto one knee.
Without hesitation, he created a symbol before him. The nearest hybrid took notice and jumped at him again. Rolling aside, he brandished his sword and sliced at it before whispering, "Ge-iad ol baeovib."
Over the five years he had been inhuman, he had found alternative, easier ways to summon elevates. While using the feather was the most effective way, it caused too much strain on him for the lower-level ones. He was still coming to understand the feather's importance; he hadn't had much time to study his family's grimoire.
The darkness in the sky gave way to bright, ethereal light. Several of the infernals screeched and scampered, but unless they could teleport, they were shortly obliterated as the Dominion lowered from the sky. At once, Jean felt rejuvenated and stood to his full height.
He looked around, bathed in the light. One by one, demons disappeared in bursts of blackness; even their remains were instantly purified. He saw other hunters, once on the ground and injured, blink and move to their feet fully healed. The sky steadily cleared, with only a small group of dark clouds indicating Celezar and the demon hybrid were still locked in combat.
Turning to the elevate, Jean watched it look around. Its hidden face turned to the black clouds, then it looked down at him. He met its unseen gaze and bowed.
It nodded back, and with a rattle of chains, it returned to the heavens.
Watching after it, he exhaled a shaky breath. He truthfully didn't think he would call upon an elevate for this battle, but he had been in a tight bind. It was a close call--closer than he would like to admit to himself.
The remaining hunters--those who hadn't died--were recovering, checking on one another and reporting to their leaders, though most were gaping at him in shock and awe. Softly, he exhaled again with slight irritation; he would never hear the end of this now that there were witnesses to his summoning of an elevate.
Soft, hesitant footsteps neared him. "Jean...?"
He briefly closed his eyes, then turned to face his uncle. Friedrich's eyes were nearly bulging out of his head, staring hard at him with a strange expression Jean wasn't readily interested in deciphering. Swallowing, his uncle looked from him to the sky. "That...that was an--"
"Elevate." Jean nodded, glancing behind the older man. Artie and Elaine stared just as openly at him, though they were not brave enough to come near.
"H-how?"
"Do you really want to know," he began, "or do you simply believe I shouldn't be able to do what I did as an inhuman?"
Taken aback, Friedrich's mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. Content with this, Jean turned to Megedagik, who approached with a wry smile.
"So, you did summon an elevate five years ago," he chuckled.
Jean nodded, briefly glancing away. "At the time, it was best to feign ignorance."
"I understand..." Megedagik took a look around, lips pursing at the other men and women. He may have had the same thought as Jean about the witnesses.
A large shadow passed overhead along with the sound of flapping wings. Jean looked up to see Celezar in his Infernal form. He began to speak when the hybrid's form morphed and shrank.
Landing on the ground beside him in his human form, Celezar gave a grin when Jean immediately hugged him. "I'm alright, love," he chuckled.
Moving away, Jean looked him over. "You were injured."
"I was. Took a few good hits from Ghralion and his spawn, but. I'm fine."
"Ghralion? That was the demon's name?"
"Yeah." Painfully calm, Celezar met the gazes of the many hunters, nodding at Megedagik. "Where's Gallev?"
"Here." The demon appeared beside Megedagik, no longer in his full inhuman form and dressed in hunter gear save for bare, clawed feet. Only then did Jean recognize him as the red demon from five years ago, one of the many he met in Etheraven. He crossed his arms. "Now what?"
"We should regroup at the manor," said Jean, his amplified voice reaching several others in the area. Much to his surprise, no one said anything against his decision.
"Good idea." Celezar snapped his fingers.
The sound echoed, and in the blink of an eye, all of the hunters and allies, some of whom were as far away as the airstrip, appeared at the front of the manor in a loose group.
"What the--?" Friedrich balked, spinning around in almost terrified awe.
He wasn't the only one in shock; several of the hunters murmured and cried out in surprise, namely the Shaw Hunters. However, what truly caught everyone's attention were the groups of people already present at the manor.
"Daddy!" Darryl ran from his aunt's side toward Jean.
Taking several steps forward, Jean lowered to take his son into his arms. "Darryl! What are you doing here...?" He looked up to see all of his children standing or in the arms of their aunt, Baa'abel. The older hybrid wore a sly smile.
Celezar faced his sister, frowning. "What's going on?"
Her smile widened as she approached. Once close enough, she passed Isel and Ivel into his arms. "We are saying goodbye, are we not?"
His head tilted to the side. "Are we?"
Jean looked over to see Antonio take Patty up against his chest. Hyacinth and her family were also present, standing in a small huddle.
"Patty!" Hugh shouted, taking several steps forward with his hands clenched.
In response, Antonio growled, flashing sharp teeth. Hugh's expression worsened, but there was nothing he could do.
Jean stood with Darryl in his arms, glancing around at the members of his former group. He didn't miss how Verne and Musa seemed somber and irritated, though they were not looking in his direction. Of all his former men, only one was missing.
"Where's Nicholae?" he asked, glancing around the crowd.
"That is none of your business," Hugh snapped, glaring at him with pure hatred.
"He's in the Cellar's second basement," Musa replied, the inflection in his tone giving away his desire to speak. His morose expression made Jean's heart skip a beat.
As eyes of indignation turned on Musa, Verne looked directly at Jean. "They tortured him on Gwendolyn's order."
"What the fuck, you two?" Elaine shouted, waving a hand at them.
Verne's eyes narrowed, his expression twisting with distaste. "Musa and I were vocally against what you did to him. We refused to leave him behind. Otherwise, don't you doubt we would have left the isle long ago--"
"You agree with him, then?" Artie demanded.
"After all we've seen these past five years, it's only stubborn stupidity keeping you from admitting otherwise."
As the argument went on, interspersed by murmuring from others around them, Jean slowly lowered his son to the ground.
Nicholae.
Nicholae.
Tears welled in his eyes as horror crept into his being, stifling and choking. He kept seeing it play before his eyes, clear as day, the torture inflicted on his uncle Alfred.
They did that to Nicholae?
To Nicholae?
"Daddy?"
He didn't hear Darryl's worried tone, hands clenching into tight fists at his sides.
"Jean?" Celezar had come to stand beside him, his voice worried yet calm.
Jean moved before he was aware of it, his eyes pinned on Friedrich. The older man blanched and backed away, but Jean appeared directly in front of him and grabbed him by his shirt. Red burned in the center of his pupils, pure rage causing his hands to shake.
"What did you DO?" he demanded, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he bore sharp teeth. "Why?!"
Friedrich's hands wrapped around his, but couldn't shove him away. Defiant, he responded, "We knew he knew more! He had to; why else would he have spoken up after you left?"
"And what did he say?!"
Face twisting, he scoffed, "Nothing. He kept that knowledge to himself."
With blazing eyes, Jean shouted, "Because he didn't know anything, you fucking coward!"
A clawed fist cocked back before ramming into Friedrich's face. Head knocking back, the older man immediately drew blood from his nose. Emitting a choke, his arms went slack.
Gasps arose around them, but Jean saw red. His gaze locked on the man he had called his uncle, and the next blow to Friedrich's face caused people to finally move.
"Father!"
Elaine and Artie were the first to approach, nearly jumping at him. An arm slung around Jean's neck and tried to pull him back, and Jean knew the sensation of Artie's strong grasp, but it meant nothing against his strength. Elaine futilely attempted to remove Jean's hands from around her father's neck, the audible sound of her straining barely reaching him.
In seconds, more arms and hands lay on Jean as he continued to beat Friedrich. The man himself had gone limp, his eyes half-closed, and sounds of outrage, struggling, and shouts rose and faded in Jean's ears.
He kept seeing it through the blood that gradually coated his fist, heard the screaming and the pleas above the shouts of his former men.
They did that to Nicholae.
A sensation ran through him, one he couldn't place, nor was it familiar to him. In just that second, the men around him got the upper hand, forcing him to detach from Friedrich's throat. Blinking through the red in his vision, Jean realized as the world returned to his consciousness what had happened.
He lost control.
And as Artie and Elaine held their bleeding and unconscious father to the ground, Jean's head cocked to the side as he came to another realization.
He didn't care.
Focusing, he effortlessly shoved the men aside, causing more than half of them to stagger or fall to the ground. Keeping his gaze on the members of his family, several of his tentacles emerged from his back to wrap around the men and pin them to the grass.
All but one.
Slowly, Jean's eyes locked onto Hugh. The man was one of those who had staggered back, and upon seeing Jean's murderous gaze, he blanched and fumbled in his attempt to brandish his gun.
Appearing directly in front of him, Jean smacked the weapon out of his hand the same moment he struck Hugh in the abdomen with a tight fist. Snapping over, blood splattered to the ground from Hugh's mouth, a strangled cry emitting from his bent form.
Jean's upper lip curled in a snarl. "I refuse to call any of you 'family'." Turning a red gaze onto Artie and Elaine, both of whom looked at him in fear and horror, he enunciated, "You are all dead to me."
"Uncle!"
The high-pitched voice momentarily broke him out of his rage-induced stupor, but he didn't move from his spot while Hugh sank to the ground.
"Please..." Patty trailed off, her voice solemn as she pleaded.
Breathing hard through his nose, Jean looked at his trembling, bloodied, clawed hands. He wanted to continue. He wanted to hurt them.
They deserved it and more.
Locking his jaw, he slowly calmed himself, retracting his claws and tentacles.
His lips trembled as the memories returned to the back of his mind. He would never forget.
But he needed to calm down.
He turned away from the groaning form and stiffly returned to stand near Celezar. An arm wrapped around him, the smell of his mate surrounded him, and his tears finally fell.
"Daddy?"
He immediately took Darryl into his free arm, and Baa'abel brought Sescal and Celestal to him. He took them in his tentacles and held them all close to him.
His family.
His real family.
He began to speak when light emerged from the sky, breaking the abnormally dark clouds apart in a way all too familiar to him.
Confused, and a tad worried, he turned teary eyes to the heavens as a familiar Cherub lowered from Paradiso. However, Zephoniel was not alone.
Several smaller, darker forms surrounded the elevate. As sounds of awe and shock rippled through those present, Jean watched these forms land on the ground and immediately approach.
There were at least ten of them, each dressed in foreign clothes that vaguely gave him the sense that they were also hunters of some kind, but that wasn't what so quickly caught his attention.
Their eyes, sapphire and sparkling with familiar magic, were identical to his.
He nearly went to his knees in shock. "Lowells," he murmured dumbly.
"Hey, you're the--! I've been--!" Celezar's mouth flapped a few times, and then he glared up at the elevate's massive form. "Showoff," he muttered.
The doors to the manor abruptly opened, revealing Regina as she sped out with her eyes firmly locked on Zephoniel. "Out of my way!" she demanded the other hunters, who gladly did so if not out of curiosity.
Shortly behind her came Gwendolyn and Quincy, whose expressions of awe and reverence mirrored hers. "Before my very eyes!" Quincy exclaimed.
Arms open wide, Regina came to the very front of the group opposite Jean and his family. "In our time of need, an Elevate descends again!" she trilled with delight.
A low growl rumbled in Jean's chest upon seeing her and his mother. As if she heard him, Gwendolyn's gaze landed on him.
And she looked again. "What in the..." She shuddered, looking directly at Darryl and his siblings. She must have realized who they were as her face twisted. "Disgusting," she spat.
Celestal's growl made it across their distance from her, and she peeked from behind Jean's back to hiss at her grandmother. The older woman's lip curled up as she recoiled.
Regina gave a low bow toward the elevate. "O great one! Darkness has infiltrated our blessed family!" She turned a look of pure hatred toward Jean.
"Aunt Regina," Elaine said softly, her teary eyes fixated on the divine being, "J...J-Jean summoned it..."
"What? That's...that's not...that's not possible," she said, nearly laughing.
"How dare you insinuate taint could summon something so pure?" Gwendolyn hissed.
Artie swallowed from his place on the ground beside his father. "He...really did. We all saw it."
White brows furrowed as Regina and her niece tried to understand. "You're lying," Gwendolyn then scoffed, panning her gaze over Jean before turning to face the elevate. "O divine of Ragna, o blessed one--"
"Iaial," spoke the Cherub, its commanding voice carrying just the slightest of distaste. "G blans unph ge."
Startled, Gwendolyn's mouth snapped shut by reflex. Judging by the expression on her face, she understood it somehow.
"I...do not understand, Divine One," said Regina, taking a brief glance back at the other members of their family.
Jean followed her gaze. Every member of his birth family had exited the manor, though the children remained close to their mothers. No one else dared to come closer, remaining nearest to the building.
"Seems pretty clear that it told you to shut up," Antonio drawled.
"Why you--!"
A massive golden sceptre thudded on the grass. "Enough."
This time, even Jean was startled upon hearing the elevate speak English. Some innate feeling told him this was unprecedented, let alone from an elevate of the 1st Sphere.
It panned its gaze over the Lowells near the manor. "For too long, you have arrogantly paraded your family name, yet you forget what it means to be a Lowell," it continued, deliberate with each word it spoke. When Regina opened her mouth to retort, it once more used its sceptre to pound the ground. "Do not speak."
She sputtered but otherwise obeyed.
"We, the divines of Ragna, have watched and have waited for decades for a descendant of Alan Lowell to rekindle the flame that once burned so fervently in the hearts and minds of his family." It shook its head. "Alan Lowell was a great mortal man, truly worthy of our blessing. Alas, how you have stooped so low, descendants of Auron, and how you have tarnished his legacy."
Jean startled again upon hearing the name Auron. That was the twin brother of Millicent, the wife of Kajut'ta, who was his direct ancestor.
Gwendolyn began to emit words, but she couldn't articulate them. Clearly affronted, she nearly babbled with confusion.
"At last, a member of the Lowells has come into his power, for he has the will to summon us--"
"That's impossible!" Gwendolyn nearly screeched, pointing at Jean. "He is a-an inhuman! He is a tainted--!"
"You and your ilk are the taint of the Lowells." Zephoniel's four faces rotated, as if peeved, and it lowered its sceptre's tip to point directly at her.
She took a step back, a glaze of fear in her eyes. Her breathing had increased, and Jean recognized the look on her face. "You are not an elevate! You cannot be! No divine of Ragna would--could!--say such madness!"
Once more, the pale, stony faces rotated, and the sceptre hit the ground with greater force. It caused a tremor through the ground, and a gust of wind nearly knocked her and Regina off their feet. Strangely enough, no one else seemed to feel this effect.
"You dare, mortal, to doubt." Zephoniel raised its head, seemingly looking in the direction of the manor. "Come forth, descendants of Kajut'ta."
For the first initial seconds, there was nothing. Eyes then turned to the manor as a group of individuals emerged from the side of the building.
Upon seeing Halle, Jean's chest tightened. All of his cousins' yellow eyes took in the elevate, some with fear, some with unfathomable concern.
Zephoniel nodded towards them. "Reveal yourselves."
In a flash of light that normal mortal eyes would not have caught, the concern melted from the faces of the servants, replaced with realization.
Before all those present, gasps gradually arose as familiar sapphire blue bled through the yellow gazes. In moments, over twenty individuals, all of whom had emerged from the manor's basement, bore the unmistakable eyes of a Lowell.
"No!" Regina gasped, her body stiff and hands like talons at her sides. "Why? I-I don't understand...!"
A worsening expression of madness grew on Gwendolyn's face. "This cannot be happening..."
The elevate raised its free hand. "We, Cherubim of the 2nd Sphere, strip you of your blessing."
Seconds after it spoke, all members of the Lowell family--excluding Jean and his family, the descendants of Kajut'ta, Hyacinth's family, and Patty--fell to their knees, screaming as they held their hands over their eyes.
Upon seeing Tristan, however, Jean found himself feeling a ping of pity and worry. He looked at the elevate. "Iehusoz," he said. "Blans iehusoz c ol esiasch Tristan."
After all that happened, he didn't think he would ask for mercy for his older brother. Tristan was always a passive member of the family, never involved with the direct suffering of inhumans or innocents. Regardless, Jean felt that Tristan was undeserving of such an intense punishment.
When Zephoniel did not acknowledge him or respond, his lips pursed as he watched the writhing forms.
The elevate was not done. "Henceforth, you will not speak the name Lowell, for it is no longer yours. Henceforth, the Lowell family consists of Patiel Lowell Alighieri, Hyacinth Lowell and her family, Kajut'ta's descendants, and Jean-Luc Lowell and his family. Henceforth, you will take the name of your ancestors' ancestors, Aeron. No one will know you, and you are no one."
"What's happening, Papà?" Patty softly asked, holding her father tight.
"Something that should have happened a long time ago," Antonio growled in response.
The elevate turned to look at Jean. "You will take your rightful place as the Lowell patriarch," it said contentedly.
Jean bowed deeply toward it. "I am honored."
It nodded. "Nor de Alan, ol ecarinu elasa ge nanaeel."
He recalled this blessing from five years ago, causing pinpricks of tears to form in his eyes. There was much he wanted to say, but he was unsure of himself. He could barely think.
"N-no..."
His grandaunt's weak voice brought his attention to her. She crawled over the grass, tears streaming down her face from eyes that lacked the familiar shine of magic. Instead of the familiar sapphire blue, they were a muddy greenish brown. Glancing at the other members of his family revealed that they all bore this sign of their fall from grace.
"How can this be?" she sobbed, reaching for the elevate. "We have done nothing but serve the Creator!"
Zephoniel flapped its wings, as if to intentionally ignore her.
"Before you go..."
Eyes went to Antonio as he moved to the front. Even Patty looked at him with confusion, her head tilted to the side curiously.
Her father's eyes were closed, and when they opened, a slight burn of red glowed in their depths. "I need you to witness this, Zephoniel."
Jean glanced up at the elevate. It waited.
Antonio turned his glare onto Regina, then panned his eyes over the other members of her family.
The red in his eyes increased as he began, "I curse you, Descendants of the Tainted--"
Patty immediately pointed at them, brows furrowed, and repeated her father's words in Corrupted Enochian.
Antonio raised a brow, but continued. "I curse you threefold; for the pain and suffering wrought upon the innocents in your path."
He waited for Patty to repeat after him.
"For the lives under your care that you tossed aside, maimed, killed, and tortured." After Patty spoke, his eyes narrowed deeply. "And for the pain you intended to inflict on my daughter. Henceforth, your bloodline is abolished."
A sudden cry emitted from within the crowd. Jean looked over to see his sister-in-law, Catrin, holding her swollen stomach while slouched over in pain. Ulrich immediately came to her side, looked down, and cried out.
It took a moment, but Jean understood, eyes going wide when he smelled blood. Beside him, Celezar held him closer with a soft gasp.
Patty repeated Antonio's last words with a firm nod, then lowered her hand and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Smiling, Antonio gave her a gentle squeeze.
After she spoke, a strange sound emitted from Zephoniel. If Jean could describe it, it was akin to a hum carrying an indiscernible tone.
"So it is," the elevate finally spoke, "and it shall be."
Its four wings flapped, but it did not yet return to the heavens. Its faces rotated, and it looked into a direction south of the isle. Jean followed its glance, but upon seeing nothing, returned his gaze to the now sobbing members of his family.
No. Not his family...
"Hm."
"What?" he asked, looking at Celezar.
"Nothing, love." There was a smile in his mate's voice. "I'm just...happy."
Jean didn't get the chance to respond before the wind picked up. Looking heavenward, Zephoniel returned to the sky. As it disappeared, taking the divine light with it, Jean felt a smile forming on his face.
Sensations ran through him, many of which he couldn't name. The ones he could identify were expected: Sadness. Contentment. Pity.
His expression dropped. "Nicholae," he whispered, dread growing in his gut. He turned toward the Cellar. "I have to get him out of there."
He was reluctant to let go of his children, however. Lips pursed, he looked at them in his arms and tentacles. They looked back, their large eyes boring into him.
"Do you have to go, Daddy?" Darryl asked quietly, grasping onto Jean's shirt.
He nodded, brows creasing deeply. "I'm sorry, beans. I have to check on your granduncle. Remember Nicholae?" he asked. When they nodded, his expression turned firm. "I have to save him."
"From that bad thing done to him?"
"Yeah."
Celestal and Sescal chirred quietly, but their little heads bobbed with understanding.
Darryl, however, sighed. "Okaaaay. Be back soon, Daddy." He kissed Jean's cheek.
Smiling, Jean returned the gesture, then planted kisses on his older twins' foreheads. They chirped happily, and he gently lowered them to the grass.
Raising his head, his gaze met Verne's and Musa's. They nodded at him and approached.
"We'll come with you," said Musa.
"He was in atrocious shape, last I saw him," Verne added, his expression grave. He paused, lowering his head. "I...apologize, Jean. We should have done more--"
"But you felt that staying quiet was the best way to prevent them from turning on you." When Musa and Verne nodded, albeit hesitantly, Jean briefly closed his eyes in understanding.
"I'll send you there," Celezar offered.
"Please do."
Jean turned in the Cellar's direction as their surroundings changed.
AFTER THE CHAPTER
Comments.