Diablo's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Diablo had no mouth left to scream with, so he screamed with the walls. The orb was smaller than a fist and smoother than any stone. From the outside it swallowed light. From the inside, it was all Diablo had. He pressed against the curved dark and found no seam, no hinge, no crack he could pry. His other half, Creusus, had stuffed him in here after their fight in the stone hall. One punch, then another, then a hundred, until Diablo's body came apart like wet ash. Now what was left of him lived in a shell the size of a plum. He remembered being whole. A knight's sword, a thousand years ago, a bright line of pain, and then two of him. One half had walked off wearing his face and forgotten everything. That half had grown into Creusus. That half had won. Diablo turned the memory over and over. The hate warmed him. It was the only warm thing in the orb. He took shape again out of that heat. Not a body, not really. A silhouette. A hunched black thing with a jagged crown of hair and a mouth that showed teeth without needing lips. He looked down at himself and laughed a dry laugh. A void shape. Fine. A void shape could still want things. He pressed a hand to the inside of the shell. The dark pushed back. He pressed harder. A thin gold line opened under his palm, no wider than a hair. Light bled through from somewhere outside. He heard, for a moment, the muffled sound of Creusus breathing. Creusus was carrying the orb. Of course he was. He would keep it close, the fool, because he thought he had won. Diablo dragged his hand along the inner curve. More gold lines followed, spidering out from the first. Cracks. Not enough to break. Enough to see by. Enough to listen. He put his ear to the shell. He heard footsteps on stone. A market, maybe. A woman laughing. Creusus saying something short and quiet to a stranger. A plan settled into Diablo like a cold stone dropping into a well. He could not break the orb from inside. Not yet. But he could feed the cracks. He could push his hate through them, thin as smoke, and find someone out there with a body worth taking. Someone stronger than the one Creusus had stolen. Someone with weight in the world. He pressed both hands flat against the shell and began to push. The gold lines brightened. A single black thread of him slipped through the largest crack and out into the air on the other side. Somewhere beyond the orb, Creusus stopped walking. Diablo smiled with his teeth.