Gourmet Deviled Egg

Interlude 4 - Want You Gone

The last time Khazmiel had caught Meassael’s scent was centuries ago. He had been unable to track her since then, but he knew that if he waited long enough, she would have to show herself. That she’d have to leave her lair. He believed her to be biding her time, waiting. And at last, he had a scent to follow. 

He entered Wisteria Way, his presence unwelcome to the residents there. Of course, he was too far up his a*s to realise and recognise this, too focused on his self-appointed mission, unaware of the people preparing binding spells if he so much as approached them. Following the scent led him through a portal into the Fae Realm itself, the warm dusk colors of Wisteria Way shifting to the Moonlit night as he crossed the threshold. He moved forward with determination, assured that he would at last complete his mission. But the track and scent ended. It ended at a sight he had heard of, but had not previously encountered. He knew of the resident within. He knew the resident’s story. And he had even managed to hear of the resident’s childhood. Of the witch’s given name. One he was certain held power over him.

“#####!” Khazmiel tried to utter the witch’s given name, but the noise that escaped his lips was not a name. More of an incomprehensible noise. Like an invisible adult talking off screen sounding like a trumpet. He of course was too focused to notice at that moment. “I know she came here! Open your door and do your duty as an Agent of the Triad! Tell me where the War w***e went!” he yelled out, earning a deep sigh from the house on chicken legs’ resident.

“Don’t know who you’re talking about, Khaz, nobody with that name lives here, and if you want to hire a s*x worker, just go online.” Katka shook her head, mumbling to herself, quietly enough so Khazmiel would never hear it. “Plus you just have to ask Kyblík to show you the door in a Slavic language. How hard is it to learn ‘Turn your door to me and your back to the woods’ in Czech?... Oh wait, dveře has ř in it. Nevermind.” 

“#####, I know you are in there, open the door and tell me where she went.” 

“Again, featherbrain, nobody with that name lives here! The only resident of Kyblík the House on Chicken Legs is Katka, the Witch of Wisteria Way, the Nephilim Changeling Granddaughter of the Baba Yaga!” 

“#####--” Khazmiel began, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence. The door to the house opened only long enough to let the clearly angry angel witch out. Her long brown hair with purple tips began to move in the sudden wind, a wind that was slowly picking up speed. 

“For the last f*****g time, you shitty lapdog, my name is Katka. I’m a girl. I’m an Angel and a Witch. I’m better at my job than any of your lot, that sit up top and don’t do their f*****g jobs.” A shadow began growing over her, climbing up her arms and legs. “Lucifer had to claim the souls of every single trans person because not a single guardian angel assigned to them was doing what they were supposed to do.” A fog started rolling into the clearing, the Moon becoming bigger in the sky, much bigger. The light from it should have made the clearing be as bright as the sun at noon. But it didn’t; the atmosphere of a dark night prevailed. Katka stood there as she was completely overtaken by the shadows; the only light was her piercing gaze and her bright halo. She was nothing but a silhouette. A shape in the dark, with her eyes burrowing into your heart. Khazmiel lacked one of those, meaning the effect was lessened. But, with righteous fury, Katka spread her wings and pointed towards Khazmiel. The fog was filled with bright glowing eyes of many shapes and colors and sizes and amounts. Pairs and quartets and groups of eight and trios. A loud chorus chanting ‘Leave’ in as many languages as there are trees in the Fae Realm could be heard. “Khazmiel, Banished Bloodhound, I exile you from my home and my lands. If you dare come here uninvited ever again, you shall face the wrath of the Old Gods and the Old Dead.” A portal opened up below Khazmiel, fast enough for him to have no chance of flying out as he fell through and it closed behind him. 

He landed on a dust-covered surface, brighter than day, but as he turned to look up, all he could see was all the stars in the sky. He turned around, seeing the pale blue dot known as Earth, and the Sun behind it. In that moment, he was mad, mad that it would take him at least two weeks to fly back, for with half his wings, his prey took his mobility. With the help of the three wings he had left, he leapt towards Earth. 

Katka, meanwhile, reverted back from her Angel of Wrath mode, scratched her butt and yawned. “Interrupting me in the middle of brewing Transition Brews, deadnaming and misgendering me. How f*****g rude of him.” A thought popped into her head. “Hmm, you know, I’ve heard of the ending of Portal 2, but I’ve never actually played it. Might as well fix that after I finish this batch.” She shrugged, went back inside and stretched. “Good time killer while I wait for news from May. Not really a long trip to Chertovice from here...”