I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 775: [The Rewritten Lost Past] [15]
Previously on I Am The Game's Villain...
Amael halted. He turned his body slowly, and as his eyes met Michael’s, the weariness within them was supplanted by a newfound hardness.
"Why not employ yourself as the lure then?" Amael questioned. "Proceed, draw A-Nox out on your own." He allowed that suggestion to linger for a moment before inclining his head. "Oh, but wait. Neither A-Nox nor Lucifer holds you in enough regard to manifest." A thin smile touched his lips. "In that specific scenario, I would propose Princess Raphiel. A Khaos Princess would surely make for exceptional bait; I imagine that would provoke a reaction."
Michael's gaze grew darker, his carefully maintained composure fraying at the edges. "Do you court death?"
"That is precisely the core of it!" Amael retorted sharply. "I do not! My desire is to persist. That is all. If harboring the wish to remain alive designates me a coward in your estimation, then I shall proudly bear that title for all my remaining days."
He held Michael's stare for a final second, ensuring his words had struck home, then turned and departed. He didn't accelerate his pace, nor did he cast a glance backward.
Behind him, Michael observed Amael's retreating form in profound silence. The chill that had settled in his expression gradually transformed into something far more disquieting than mere anger. A smile began to trace its way across his lips.
"So be it," he murmured softly, to no one in particular. "You leave me with no other recourse."
***
The heavens above stretched out, a vast expanse of pale light. Amael traversed this airy domain on his return journey to Xenithia, the wind biting sharply against his countenance. Suddenly, he ceased his flight, hanging suspended in mid-air, and pivoted with a faint smile already beginning to form.
A bird, rendered in gleaming silver, approached through the drifting clouds.
It was sleek and immense.
A falcon, its feathers shimmering like polished moonstone, its keen eyes missing nothing.
"I had begun to surmise you might not arrive for some time yet, grandfather," Amael commented.
The falcon decelerated its flight, gliding with effortless grace to halt in the air beside him. Horus regarded Amael with his striking silver eyes. "And I doubted that your summons was entirely without purpose," he responded.
Amael ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Well... perhaps not entirely without purpose. I merely wished to converse."
A brief, warm burst of laughter emanated from the falcon.
"Years have elapsed," Horus stated, "and you truly have not altered in the slightest, have you, grandson?"
"What did you anticipate?" Amael replied quietly, a subtle shift occurring in the lightness of his tone. "The individual purported to be my father is not one I can entrust with anything significant. And I shall not burden my mother with this matter." He paused, his gaze drifting towards the distant horizon rather than meeting Horus's. "You are the sole confidant to whom I can truly unburden myself regarding this."
It had invariably been this way. Long before Amael had matured into his present self, even as a child, it was Horus to whom he turned when the burdens became overwhelming, Horus who had kept watch over him from his very first breath. Not Nihil, with his icy detachment and divine responsibilities. Not anyone else.
Horus represented the paternal figure Amael had never been afforded.
"Relate to me that which troubles you," Horus said simply.
Amael remained silent for a moment.
"I cannot precisely articulate it," he finally admitted, uncertainty flickering across his features. "Merely a persistent premonition, an unshakeable feeling that something is on the verge of going terribly awry, and I am currently unable to perceive it."
"Does this concern Michael?"
"Perhaps. Most likely." He let out a sigh. "I am uncertain. But whatever the nature of this impending event, and regardless of who may be involved, my paramount concern is the safety of my mother. And the girls. That is the only certainty I possess."
Horus was silent for a beat. "You bestowed one of my eyes upon one of those girls," he remarked.
"I am aware." Amael offered a rueful smile. "My apologies for that, gramps."
"I granted them for your protection."
"I am cognizant of that fact as well." Amael directed a glance at Horus, his smile softening into a more genuine expression. "I intend to entrust the other one to Sylvia."
Another lengthy silence ensued as the falcon regarded him intently.
"Why?" he inquired at last.
Amael did not falter in his response. "Because I love her," he avowed, a sincere smile gracing his lips. "I cherish both of them. And my deepest aspiration, that which I have perpetually yearned for, is to truly experience life. Not merely to endure it. To live, alongside them, in a meaningful way." He paused, a shadow of somberness momentarily crossing his features. "However, should misfortune befall me before I attain that reality... I wish for them to remain safeguarded." He looked directly at Horus, and for a fleeting instant, he appeared younger than his years. "What safeguard could be more potent than the eyes of my grandfather?"
Horus met his gaze for an extended period. The silver falcon remained uncharacteristically silent, but a subtle transformation occurred within those ancient eyes, hinting at a mixture of sorrow and pride.
"If such is your desire," Horus stated in conclusion.
"That is correct," Amael affirmed. "However, Grandfather, I am the Vessel of Samael Eveningstar. That name attracts peril as surely as flames draw moths, and I have come to terms with that reality." He met the silver falcon's steady gaze. "I will never forgive myself if something unfortunate befalls my mother or them due to what I bear within me. You understand this." He held the gaze with utmost seriousness. "Pledge to me. Promise me that you will keep them all safe."
Horus settled into a profound silence.
Then, unfurling his magnificent silver wings, he ascended without a word, climbing higher until his form became a mere speck against the pale heavens, ultimately vanishing into the white expanse.
Amael observed his departure.
He did not call out to him.
He simply watched for a time.
Eventually, he turned away, his eyes drawn to the distant edge of the horizon. Somewhere beyond the visible realm, past the layered skies, Sancta Vedelia was presently ensnared by the Blood Moon Spell. He could not perceive it from this vantage point.
Yet, he could sense it.
His hands gradually clenched at his sides.
"Sirius," he whispered under his breath, a frustrated sigh escaping him. "...Damn it all."