Chapter 57: Lirazel’s Mission
Nolan sat with one leg crossed over the other, cradling a warm mug of dark, bitter coffee—he bought outside—between his hands.
Steam curled gently into the air, dancing in slow spirals that dissipated just beneath the cabin’s low ceiling.
Across the table, Lirazel hovered in a slow, deliberate orbit over her own cup—untouched, save for the occasional contemplative glance she shot toward the swirling surface.
Despite the near-death encounter just moments ago, there was a strange stillness between them now, the kind of eerie calm that usually settled after a violent storm.
Nolan exhaled quietly and sipped. His eyes remained fixed on her. "Now," he said, tone steady, "can you tell me what’s going on?"
Lirazel hesitated. She looked down. Her wings fluttered nervously, brushing against the air with a whisper.
For a moment, she looked like she was about to brush the question aside again, the same way she had with many others. But then, with a heavy breath of resignation, she slowly lifted her head.
"...Alright."
She didn’t look at him at first—only past him, eyes distant, haunted by memories Nolan couldn’t see.
When she finally spoke, her voice was low and slow, each word weighed with an ancient heaviness.
"There are planes above this one," she began. "Higher realms. Infinite layers of space and power, each more distant from mortal comprehension than the last. The Arcane Planes. Among them are domains where the Demon Gods dwell—primordial entities of desire, violence, hunger, decay, dominance... and more. Their domains are vast, unknowable... but even gods—yes, even them—aren’t content with their own territories."