February 20, 2019
11/20/2020 12:35 PM
Farewell To You (By: Slightly Murderous)
Please note, that I, Mazikeen's writer, have given Payne complete consent to post this in his blog. I wrote it, but it is our story.--the writer behind Slightly Murderous.
A man named Payne.
"Maze. I want to go up again,” the Boy had spoken to her. She had known it would happen. Going topside was a touch on the addictive side. She had promised nothing, simply motioned to the board of weapons behind him, and had carried on with their endless lessons. She knew in her heart that she was training her own replacement. That the Prince of Hell would someday be the Head Torturer and Defender of Lucifer. Where this would leave her, she had no idea, but it was her duty--and Mazikeen did it with utmost pride.
It had taken her ages to convince Lucifer that it was a good idea. He’d thought that the first trip had been a bad idea. Especially since The Boy had come back speaking. Mazikeen had continued the lessons in secret, and she had to admit that she was most pleased with his progress. He was a quick mind and he kept excellent secrets. When they were training, she would take moments to help him. It was a clandestine affair of sorts; and he always asked her to bring him topside again. He who asked for nothing else--asked for that. Just a few hours of blissful freedom.
When she was able, she did so. They were not long visits, just short ones and usually when Lucifer had gone up himself. Sometimes he brought Maze, other times, he did not. On the occasions that she did go with him, she made certain to always stop at a sweet shop; knowing full well that The Boy enjoyed his sweets. She was surprised at how she was able to go from the bitch everyone knew her as, to this...whatever this was. Was it kindness? Love? She had never really sat about long enough to figure it out, but she liked those stolen moments where she could be something of a sister to him. Everyone else talked down to him, treated him poorly. She understood it well, even though Lucifer treated her like a Queen. Everyone needed one person to be there for them. If she could do that for The Boy, then so be it.
Finally, consent was given. Maze hadn't hesitated in getting ready, though she didn't dare tell him at first. First, she had some items made for him. His own set of blades. A sword. Some clothes--she didn't know how long they'd be there, so it was always best to have more than one set. Besides, when the seamstresses came to the Boy, he simply chalked it up to his needing new armor since he had become too tall for the other set he had. She was rather pleased with her ability to keep a secret. Besides, he deserved this. She had planned where she'd take him for ages, it was simply a matter of getting him there. When she'd finally told him, he'd rewarded her with a wide smile, the one that reached his eyes, and the one that made other demons and fallen angels sigh and ache for his eye to fall on them.
“I have something for you,” Mazikeen began, looking up at him. He’d grown rather tall in the last few years. She was not one to give presents, but she wanted him to have this, particularly since he’d lost his arm and had it replaced with that of a demon. A long scar was on his face as well, on his forehead and his cheek. Not to mention, his bright red eyes. He couldn’t appear as such on Earth. He'd gotten too arrogant in a fight and thus, had been rewarded. The lecture she'd given him once he had gotten used to that arm...it still made her chuckle. Reaching into her pocket, she drew out a leather bracelet. Motioning that he should stand in front of the looking glass in her room, she uncovered it--hating to look at herself--and she put the bracelet on him. The result was nearly instantaneous. His arm took on the appearance of a regular arm, the scar faded (it was there, but not as prominent as it usually was) and his eyes changed from red to blue. Watching his reaction was a delight to the demon; it wasn’t unlike the one she had when she’d first seen the glamor spell in action.
“Ready?” she asked, leading him to the gates, chuckling as he brought his arm around her and in the blink of an eye, they were topside again. The last place she had brought him a few years prior was a small town, the first had been London. This time was the beach. It was one of her favorite places on Earth; a place where the color of her skin didn’t matter. One where she could be herself since there were people who looked like her. Adjusting the hat on her head, Mazikeen took a moment to inhale and smiled at the fresh air. What bliss this was. It was the closest to Heaven that she would ever be.
“What is this place?” The Boy asked her and she smiled as she sat down in the sand, drawing off her shoes and stockings. She was too anxious and couldn't wait to dip her toes into the warm seawater. The Boy looked at her in awe. He had never seen her so relaxed or excited. “This is called the Caribbean,” she smiled, raising her skirts slightly and walking towards the water. “Come along. Leave your boots and hose with mine. No one will bother them.” Indeed, Mazikeen was well known here; they wouldn't touch her things. Though already late in the day, it was just at the point where everything was at its most beautiful. Tomorrow, she'd bring him into town. He'd shown interest in ships everyplace she had brought him, so perhaps she could manage to garner them some passage for a trip.
The Boy looked bewildered but did as he was told. Reaching her hand out to him, Maze smiled warmly and led him towards the ocean once his hand was in her own. The water was the most crystalline blue, the sand was nearly white, and the salt in the air battered their faces most delightfully. She looked pleased as he laughed with her, a smile heavy on his features. It was the smile of someone who had just found something near and dear to them; something they’d never want to let go of. It was also at that moment, she knew for certain why he had wanted to come back up. He was tired of being damned to Hell, to be seen as nothing but a weapon. He wanted to experience the world as his father occasionally allowed himself to. He wanted to see what the world had to offer...and what he, could offer it in turn. He wanted to leave.
"You're not coming back, are you?"
“How did you know?”
“I’m old,” she retorted playfully. “I know things beyond how to fight and the like.” It was a statement that had a great deal of truth in it. People seldom looked beyond the surface; they saw her as Lucifer’s creature--their term--or as Hell’s most fearsome fighter. There was no room for anything else apparently. Once minds were made up, that was that. And for him, Mazikeen wanted more. She could understand. He was young still but had ages of experience. Time in Hell ran differently than on Earth. He appeared to be about 19 or 20. He’d age a little more but ultimately, he had centuries--or more--to experience it all. He may have been Lucifer’s heir, but he should have more experience before he decided to settle at one thing.
“You will need a name,” she continued, folding her hands behind her back when he went to brush his brown hair back. “Just as mine is Mazikeen. What’s your name going to be?”
Hearing her question, the boy continued to stare down at the beauty of the sunset. It was his first one, and Maze brought him back on land, so they could sit and watch it together. The reddish sky soon started to look like home and he smiled some and took a breath. Inhaling the fresh air before exhaling. Maze couldn't believe the sting of tears in her eyes. Was this truly happening? Her mind was going a thousand places at once when he startled her.
"Payne,” he uttered, surprising her. It had been the first word she’d taught him.
It was the first thing the boy had been able to say fully, without any struggle. Maze was touched that he would remember it still. She held back her tears as much as she could, but a tear did escape.
"My name...is Payne."
"I wish you well, Payne."
The demon responded, smiling genuinely at him. A lump formed in her throat and for a moment, she allowed herself to let down her guard. Moving towards him, she brought her arms around him, hugging him. By the stiff nature of his body, she could tell she had surprised him, but he circled an arm around her, returning the embrace. There was no malice or cruelty in her actions and she was proud of his clarity and diction. Loosening a bag from her belt, she handed it to him. “This is 1,000 crowns. Don’t spend it all at once and do not allow anyone to take it from you. If they try, you know what to do. But restrain yourself--humans can’t fight as we can. I haven’t any more to give you right now and I don’t know when--or if--we’ll meet again. So...please. Take care.” She knew he would be alright. He was made of strong stock and she knew her influence would see him through. She had a million things that she wanted to tell him, but she also didn't want to seem overbearing and paranoid. That wasn't her way. The Boy--Payne--he knew her.
"Stay a little longer, sister?"
"As you wish, brother."
She sat down beside him, nudging over the bag she'd brought with them. Perhaps she had known deep down, and this was why she'd procured all of this for him. "Use them well," she demanded gently. Burying her toes into the sandy shores, Mazikeen knew the trouble that awaited her upon her return. She would be made to suffer for "losing" him. But he was no longer the boy or Hell's Weapon. He was to have a life. He was now a man.
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