Errant Wings (BL)

The sky above Kur'thaal was the same as it always had been—endless, dark, burning.

But to Vael, something felt missing.

He had felt it every day for the last month.

An absence.

A silence.

A stillness that should not be there.

It had been thirty days since the last time Azarel opened the portal.

Thirty days of nothing.

Not a flicker.Not a whisper.Not even a mistake, a brief shudder of energy, a sign that he was still reaching back.

But he wasn't.

And Vael hated it.

He stood alone in the vastness of Kur'thaal's jagged wastelands.

His breathing was slow, controlled—but only barely.

He was training. Or at least, he had been.

The rock formations around him had been his targets—great pillars of stone, natural spires reaching toward the burning sky.

At first, he destroyed them methodically.

Focusing his strikes.Channeling his runes.Letting his energy pulse through his body in controlled bursts.

But then—his mind wandered.

Back to the silence.Back to the empty sky.Back to the portal that never opened.

And his control shattered.

He moved without thinking—faster, harder, stronger.

A single punch sent cracks sprawling across the land.

A single kick sent entire cliffsides collapsing.

His aura flared, untamed.

Then—a surge of power he didn't intend.

And suddenly, entire mountains began to crumble.

Not just break.

Not just fracture.

They collapsed.

One after another.

Tearing apart like they were made of glass and dust.

And he did not stop it.

He stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight, his breath ragged, his body burning with something he could not control.

Something wild.Something unreasonable.Something infuriating.

And all because of him.

Because of Azarel.

Vael's aura snapped around him like a restless storm.

Why hasn't he opened it again?

Was it because of what happened last time?

Was it because he was afraid?

Or worse—

Was it because he didn't want to see me again?

The thought made his chest tighten painfully.

He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together.

"Damn you, Azarel…" he muttered under his breath, his voice low, frustrated.

Had he intimidated him?

Had he done something wrong?

Vael never cared what anyone thought of him.

Not Nethros.Not Lilith.Not the demons who either followed or feared him.

But Azarel's silence felt like a wound he could not see.

And he hated that it mattered.

He hated that he was standing here, waiting.

Hating that he wanted him to come back.

Vael's breath was uneven when he finally forced himself to still.

The wreckage around him was immense.

The mountains were gone.

He didn't even remember destroying that much.

His fingers flexed slightly, his aura still flickering in unstable colors.

Then—a voice behind him.

"You seem troubled, Vael."

He turned sharply, his instincts flaring.

She was standing there, watching him with the same unsettling stare she always had.

Varasha.

The demon who could become anyone.

Her form was ever-shifting, the faint ripple of her transformation abilities always moving just beneath the surface of her skin.

Right now, she was in her preferred form—tall, slender, with black hair tangled in wild locks, her yellow eyes flickering with something between amusement and intrigue.

Vael exhaled sharply, forcing his expression to remain neutral.

"I'm training."

Varasha smirked. "Is that what you call this? I thought you were trying to wipe out Kur'thaal's entire landscape."

Vael didn't respond.

She stepped closer, tilting her head.

"Something is on your mind. I can see it."

He said nothing.

Varasha's lips curled into something too knowing.

Then—softly, almost playfully—

"It's him, isn't it?"

Vael froze.

His entire body went rigid.

He did not react.

Did not move.

Did not let his expression shift.

But Varasha's smile only widened.

"I knew it."

Vael turned away sharply, his aura flaring hot in frustration.

"Leave it alone, Varasha."

She chuckled. "Oh, but why would I? This is far too interesting."

He clenched his fists.

He had never spoken a word to anyone about Azarel.

Had never mentioned the portal.

Had never admitted to waiting.

So how the hell had she figured it out?

Varasha crossed her arms, tapping her fingers lightly against her arm as she watched him.

Then, her tone shifted.

Something quieter.

Something… almost curious.

"What are you going to do, Vael? If he never opens it again?"

His breath caught.

He had not considered that.

He had assumed—**hoped—**that Azarel would return.

That he would want to.

That he would choose to.

But if he didn't?

If this was it?

If Azarel had already decided to abandon whatever fragile thing had begun between them?

Something ugly and painful twisted in Vael's chest.

His aura flared wildly, sending sparks of energy crackling through the air.

Varasha took a slow step back, watching him carefully.

For the first time, her smirk faded.

Vael's jaw tightened.

Then, finally, he exhaled sharply and turned away.

"I don't know."

It was the truth.

And it infuriated him.