Clarity

'It's worrying, you know.'

Arc's soft voice stirred Crowley from the lazy half-doze he had allowed himself to fall into. A gleam of blue-black scales and a flash of reflected firelight showed as the young crowdragon raised his head. He surveyed Arc with a bored, almost dismissive expression, as if hoping his lack of interest might deter his friend from embarking on yet another stupid lecture.

'What now, Arc? Having another... crisis?' he said, lazily drawing the words out through barely-parted jaws.

Beside him, the wingless grey dragon sat almost completely motionless. Arc was more heavily built than Crowley, but not by much – his lack of wings just meant that he spent more time running and climbing. A bristly turquoise mane flowed down the length of his spine, and a pair of very long horns – comparable to those of an ibex – spiralled from his head. Green eyes with bottomless black sclera observed Crowley with an undeniable look of disappointment.

'Earlier,' he began, 'you didn't need to kill those people. You told me we were just going to steal something from them – you never told me we were going to kill them.'

Crowley's jaws stretched open in a huge, exaggerated yawn.

'And,' Arc continued, 'I didn't want to get roped into that.'

'Awww, poor wittle Arc didn't want to kill anyone!'

The crowdragon spoke in an annoying baby voice which, deep down, carried an undertone of annoyance. I heard this spiel five times already, Arcy-boy, and nothing's changing this time.

'Crowley, you're going somewhere you don't want to be going. Please, for once in your life, listen to me.'

'Listen to me, why don't you, Arc?' Crowley snapped back. 'All you ever do these days is whine. You're not half as fun as you were when we left school together... What happened to the good old days, huh? What happened to my cool little buddy who helped me chase stupid kids around all day and steal crap from the teachers?'

'We're not in school anymore,' said Arc, working hard to maintain his temper. 'Don't you think it might be time to... I dunno, move past the childish bullying and find something we really want to do with our lives?'

I dropped out early because of you, he thought with a flare of resentment. You were about to be expelled, so you left, and I ran away with you. Abandoned my education, parents, everything – for what?

Crowley's sneering grin told him that he wasn't about to hear anything pleasant.

'I am doing what I want to do, Arc,' he said lazily. 'Out here, runnin' free, living outside the law. Taking what I want, hurting who I want. That's it for me.'

'And that's all you ever want to do?'

'Why would I do anything else, Arc? This is fun. I just wish you weren't too much of a wimpy little wuss to enjoy it with me.'

'But – why do you enjoy it? Attacking people, killing people? They haven't done anything to you and you're ending their lives.' Arc was desperately trying to get through to Crowley, not even knowing why he bothered.

'Ever heard of thrills? The excitement of watching somebody struggle and scream with fear in their eyes because of you?' Crowley's yellow eyes gleamed with a manic light that was more than just the reflection of the fire. 'It's a rush like nothing else... Oh, and I especially like hurting people who are weak. It's so funny, seeing them beg for mercy, knowing they can't do a thing to protect themselves. Even when their life's bleeding out of them, all they can do is cry. Someday, that's gonna be my little brother Lucifer.'

His creeping, twisting speech gave way to a nonchalant tone at the end, so suddenly that Arc leaned away from him.

He had been aware, for almost as long as they'd known each other, that Crowley despised his brother. The hatred he felt for Lucifer practically dripped off his voice like a horrible, lethal poison. There had never been any real doubt in Arc's mind that Crowley re-encountering Lucifer wouldn't end well... for one of them, at least. But hearing him say things like this had never been pleasant... And why did I choose to stay with him so long, despite knowing how violent he is?

A traitorous thought whispered, reminding him that, back in their school years, he'd hardly been any better. A bully who messed with others for fun, who found amusement in their suffering. It had all been a game to Arc, and never in his younger days had he considered the far-reaching consequences of his actions. He had always been a bit of a troublemaker, but then he'd met Crowley, whose sadistic nature warped him into something far worse. An impressionable teenager, Arc had allowed himself to be dragged into his friend's 'games' too easily. And when the two of them were causing trouble together, they had so much fun that it was hard to see the real hurt they were inflicting on others.

Not anymore. Arc was thinking and feeling with clarity now. The more violent Crowley became, the more it made him consider his own past actions, and he was – very quickly – becoming disgusted by what he'd let himself be roped into.

'...I'm just saying, that isn't much of a life,' he said. 'Surely there must be other things you want to do.'

Crowley shrugged and yawned again – a real one this time.

'I do other stuff besides attack people. I like drinking and stealing and going to cool places, and the occasional one-night stand... I have a fun life because I don't let anyone tell me what to do, and yeah, that means I'm not gonna listen to you either.'

Arc turned his head away and lay it down on his forelegs. He wasn't surprised by how this conversation had gone, but it didn't stop him from feeling hurt, angry and resentful. It was hard to consider the prospect of abandoning Crowley after they had almost grown up together. But nor could he turn a blind eye to his friend's attitude – or actions – for much longer.

I'm sorry. But if you can't change, then this is where it ends. He had offered too many chances to a boy who had killed too many people to ever be redeemed. He should have left before things got this bad.