Many of the adults were gone. His mother had told him that Iromar would fight the Angels. He had never met a resident of Diveen, but Ishtar had spoken of them with scorn. Zaqar held that feeling with him as he watched much of his pack leave for the battle, wondering if perhaps there were some he may never see again. The idea of his mother perishing never crossed his mind; in fact, there were very few in Iromar who could not defend themselves. But the fact remained that he knew nothing of the Angels, and they could very well be much larger than the wolves he’d grown up around.

Several days had already passed since the departure of his mother and the others, and Zaqar was left to meander about Iromar. He explored corners of the swamp he had never visited and taunted the scaly swimmers. The young male was careful not to get too close, however, for Ishtar had instructed him time and again that they were not to be trusted.

As he walked, he began to wonder where the children were. They were very quiet in their parents’ absence, which meant they were likely up to something. He paused, twitching his ears about and testing the air for the familiar scents. He’d not spoken to any of the puppies that had been born in the spring, but he had caught a whiff of each of them at some point, and his mother had told him that they belonged here. Zaqar did detect hints of their scents, some fainter than others, but in no particular direction. That is, until he saw the dirtied white body of one of Paldor’s children flash past a tree and dissolve into the mist.

For a moment, he stood still, ears pricked in the pup’s direction. He could hear the faint chatter of the children, but not what they were discussing. Narrowing his eyes, he set off in their direction. He had always been light on his feet, and this aided him as he approached the group. They would not hear him, and he would be able to listen undetected for some time.

Another quick sniff of the air as he settled onto his haunches behind a large tree told him that not all who gathered were of Iromar. He had arrived in time to hear a small voice state that he was the prince of Iromar. Zaqar’s black lips pulled up to expose a disgruntled grimace, but still he did not reveal himself. It seemed that these strangers were Angels – maybe not in the true sense of the term, but they at least inhabited Diveen with the Angels and that was enough for Zaqar.

The sound of the tongue of the Demons prevented him from emerging into their presence. It was difficult to tell who had spoken, but after he regained his composure he at last stepped out from behind his tree, speaking as he walked. “Omne es transgrediatur, filii Diveen.” You are all intruding, children of Diveen.

Being a full year older, he towered above them at over half his adult height. At well over one hundred pounds, he was already impressive to behold. His gaze was now directed at Vainglory, who held himself tall and proud as he pretended to be what he was not. There must have been a reason for this, and he could only presume that the Angel pups had asked for the heir. Would it be wise now to reveal himself before the true purpose of the visit was understood? Perhaps not. Turning back to the strangers, he again spoke. “What reason do you have for coming here? Surely your curiosity has been satisfied?”

Z A Q A R

one | male | no mate | no imprint | iromar | ali
last son of baphomet and ishtar