Beion portalled Death and his sister out of his room and into his family home.

  Death gave a rare laugh, seeing how a doorway had been bricked shut, sealed with many layers of plank and nail, and had a miniature portrait of Beion hanging by a string.

  “I value my privacy,” Beion huffed. “If they weren’t going to knock on the door, the only option was to remove the door entirely. If they want my attention, they can scream my name and pray I’m on the other side to listen.”

  “Father walked in on him with a girl once,” Aleirica snickered. “Right in the middle of—”

  “Rica!” Beion snarled. “Apologies for my lecherous sister. She never knows what things are meant to be secret.”

  “I’ve been inside your head. You have no secrets from me.”

  “The lust of this world doesn’t shock me anymore,” Death said. “Are my companions here?”

  “Would you like them to be?” said Beion.

  Death decided to explore a little while longer. The inside of the hellish home was surprisingly nicer than most he’d seen in Valan. Everything was clean; everything was uniform; everything had a homely feeling to it. Unlike Beion’s room, there was a tinge of red and coal-black to the furniture, paint, and floor. Screams of damned souls could be heard far away, the sounds of cracking whips.

  Trophies of beasts all over the walls. I don’t recognise any species. Their father, or mother, must be a great warrior.

  Beion was trying to stop Death from exploring his home. “I don’t think it’s wise to wonder,” he pleaded. “It was a mistake taking you out my room, there is nothing for us to see here!”

  Aleirica joined the pleading after contemplating what Beion’s reasoning was.

  “We really should get going,” Aleirica squeaked. “There’s rea—oh no, oh no.”

  Death waltzed into a room filled with fireplaces, tables, and a magical portal that shown a crowd of people watching two imps duel with sticks. He recognised three coal chairs from Rica’s memory of her father beating her, then willingly forgot he’d noticed.

  A tall cambion laid on the couch, quickly standing to greet Death. Before coming close, she put on her gloves and cape, tightening her comfortable red clothing to show off her figure.

  Her skin is not as pink as the others, Death noticed. If it weren’t for the horns and tail, I’d think she was a human.

  “A human,” the cambion exclaimed. “A human in my home… a handsome one at that.” She touched Death’s face, licking his cheek with her forked tongue. “Mmmm, you taste powerful.”

  Death looked down at her chest to see the family heirloom Rica used as collateral as a necklace protected by a golden chain.

  “My, you are courageous,” the cambion whispered. “Staring at my chest after a second of meeting me… how scandalous.”

  “I wasn’t aware you had a sister,” Death said to Beion and Rica. Yellow eyes, brown hair… Aleion had yellow eyes, I think.

  Beion crossed his arms and focused his attention shamefully on the floor. Aleirica was nervous, blushing.

  “That’s my mother,” Rica revealed. “Can we go now?”

  “You must be Death,” said the mother, circling him, sniffing him like a hound. “My daughter has talked about you quite a lot.”

  Rica went redder. “I—I have not!” she claimed. “This is why we never bring anyone to see you! You’re so embarrassing.”

  Their mother kissed Death’s cheek as a greeting. “You killed two of my sons,” she said flatly. “Did they surrender?”

  “No.”

  “Good,” she said happily. “They were not cowards.”

  She’s not concerned that I killed Aleion and Deilon? Does this woman not care for her own boys?

  “Your mother looks young,” Death said suspiciously.

  “Because I’m demon-blooded,” the mother said. “We age like fire. We don’t wrinkle or fade in beauty once we’ve matured into a roaring flame. It never used to be this way, tis a flaw of a deal struck long ago by the devils. Nobody complains.”

  Death awkwardly apologised for killing her sons.

  “Don’t be shy,” the mother said. Beion tells me their deaths was their own fault—you don’t hate the cambions, the battles were fair.”

  “Deilon was quite the challenge, I respect his desire to battle until the end,” Death commended. “Too focused on waging war against the humans rather than battling me. It took me and my two other companions our all to… cave in his skull.”

  Beion was relieved Death had excluded his presence.

  The mother was ashamed. “Deilon had a strange heart. He was a good demon… but his hatred of humans made him come off as evil. I tried my best, even the evilest of men yearn a little for a loving mother...”

  Remembering a memory of him slaughtering men with a scythe after losing his mother, Death couldn’t help but agree.

  “…he didn’t want love,” she continued. “He just kept pushing for a war. Even if the Battle of Human Hell never took place, he would still wish for them to die.”

  “After what I have seen, exterminating humans and beginning anew may not be the worst suggestion.”

  “I disagree. Humans are adorable things… when they don’t want to hang us just for existing, of course.”

  “You’re friends now,” Beion sighed. “It was great that you met, now we must go.”

  “Now hold on… he doesn’t even know my name. Beion, I taught you better than that. Manners matter. Ashlereina Flame.” She shown her knuckles to him. “A pleasure. You may call me Ash.”

  Death’s formal instincts took over. He kissed her fingers and introduced himself even though she knew his name.

  That felt strange. My body must be used to greetings like this, he thought. “A woman as fine as you must have a strong husband. Does he share your calmness at the killing of his sons.”

  She giggled, rolling her eyes. “Morgudeion wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you. Bei-bei is our final son. It is customary for the eldest son of a demon-blooded father to have their requests heeded.”

  “In other words, don’t worry about it,” Beion said. “Now may we please go, before she says something that can’t be unsaid… like calling me Bei-bei a second time.”

  She pinched her son’s cheek. “Manners, Bei-bei. My sons were raised to use manners around guests. You mentioned others travelling with you. Why not bring them here? Hell can be horrid if you don’t know what you’re dealing with. You two will show them around, explain things. Show them how hospitable Hell can be.”

  “Yes mother,” Rica squeaked. “We’ll do well.”

  “Always folding like a cloth for our mother,” Beion sighed. “Fine. I will fetch the other two.”

  With the opening of two portals, Snow angrily burst out from a freshly spawned portal and slapped Death, then hugged him, then slapped him again. “Never leave me again!” she ordered. “Why did you do that to me?”

  “Fun reunion,” Vera joked, sitting on one of the coal chairs. “All she’s been talking about for the last few hours is how hard she was gonna slap you. Mister Death, did it hurt ya?”

  Ash introduced herself to the others. Snow and Vera heard the screams of the damned and realised they were in Hell.

  “You brought us to Hell?!” Vera squeaked. “This is the last time I go through a portal with you!”

  Beion dismissed her with a laugh.

  Could’ve been worse, Death thought. Snow didn’t command me never to leave her. The implications of that order frighten me.

  Snow stayed close to him, explaining everything she’d done. She explained the Voiceless One, the visions she got of him in a Vatanil cell, how she’s been feeling more Violent. Death explained his side too, also noting that he found himself more open to helping others on his path.

  He determined their souls were more linked than he initially thought. We must be bleeding into each other, he thought. But that isn’t how souls work… there must be a different reason.

  She then explained the feelings she got after killing people, the sensation that she was siphoning their powers into him with each kill. However, Death denied this.

  “Pardon my intrusion,” said ash, “but I have a nose for power. Snow has a… strange smell to her.”

  “That might be me,” Vera admitted. “I haven’t uh—y’know, had any chance to wash for a while. I’m a hybrid, sorry.”

  “It’s not you,” Ash assured. “Something is unusual.”

  Death entertained the idea and took Snow’s cheek in his hand. Her eyes locked onto his, glistening with love; he saw hundreds of souls swirling in her eyes, feeling their power.

  “Snow, do you feel stronger?” Death asked, confused.

  “Uh… no?”

  Death focused on her soul, imagining himself reaching into her body and plucking out the power. It was awkward for him to do, as he’d never done the action, but it worked. He took the souls from her and added them to his strength. Snow gasped, grabbing his arm, not understanding what had happened.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “You seem shocked,” Ash said.

  Death was stunned. She doesn’t reap the rewards of her own killing… I have to collect what she kills by my hand. That is not a rule of my gifts, this should be impossible. First, she unseals me from a powerful spell, now the foundation of my powers has been rewritten to include her.

  The room was silent, observing Death. Snow nervously waited for him to say something.

  “Did I… do good?” she asked.

  Death took her hand. He stared into her eyes and gifted her some of the strength he’d just gained. She took steady breaths, getting closer to his face with her lips opened slightly.

  “You did good,” Death said softly. “These souls you provided me with are excellent. Good work, Snow.”

  Snow moaned a little from the praise.

  “Hey! It was me too y’know!” Vera added. “Why does she get a load of strength, but I get none!?”

  “Good work, fox. You both did well. I need to keep the rest for myself. Maybe another time.” Snow did exceptionally well. This is the first time I don’t mind her being this close to me. Her devotion to me is… welcomed.

  Snow struggled to speak, stuttering on her words for a while before being able to finish a sentence.

  “I missed you,” she managed.

  Death said nothing in response.

  “What’re we doin’ now then, huh?” Vera said. “Chilly in here. I thought this was Hell?”

  “Oh, good thing you mentioned it,” Ash said. She clicked her fingers, wrapping them with magic. “The fires of hell would burn if I let you exit this home without the blessing of a demon.”

  “Will I have issues in Hell?” Death asked.

  “You shouldn’t,” Rica answered. “Just keep out of business that you aren’t a part of. Don’t surrender under any circumstance. Pay your taxes on time.”

  “They have taxes in Hell?!” Vera exclaimed.

  “Oh, my darling,” Beion chuckled. “Where do you think that concept came from? My sister is joking. The devils abolished taxes long ago.”

  “Bei-bei is right, we—”

  “BEI-BEI,” Vera mocked. “I’m never letting you forget that.”

  Beion endured the laughter of everyone, even Death and his own mother. “We’re going to leave now,” he said, defeated, opening a portal. “In the portal, all of you.”

  “Have fun, Bei-bei,” his mother teased, blowing him a kiss. “Make sure you have plenty of fun.”

  Beion took all of them deeper into Hell. Snow and Vera were in awe of the scenery—bloody clouds. A permanent eclipse lighting up hell, unmoving in the middle of the sky. Mountains of flesh and bone, magnificent castles, some barren.

  Death didn’t find it as beautiful as his companions. To him, it was clear the pernicious effects of Hell’s ostracization had led to the deficiencies of resources. There was no rain, so nothing could grow, many of the buildings were dedicated to sending scouts to the human world to scavenge to survive.

  “This is Redhaven,” Beion revealed.

  “It’s beautiful!” Snow exclaimed.

  “It’s… not,” Rica said sadly. “Thousands of years ago, maybe it was. A lot of cambions are glum.”

  There were a vast number of bakeries selling cakes, chocolate, and bags of sugar. Death picked one up and the merchant thanked him for supporting the pledge.

  “What? Does Hell have a policy that I must pay for what I look at?” Death asked. “I don’t have any coin on me.”

  “Everything is free here,” Beion said. “All they ask is that you pledge yourself to join the war against the Kans whenever we have the numbers for it.”

  “How does he know if I’ve pledged?”

  “Everyone in Hell has pledged. Not pledging is the same as surrendering. Demons don’t surrender.”

  Ah, I see. The merchant sees my red eyes and thinks I am a cambion, the same mistake made by others during my travels.

  Hearing the word ‘free’ gave Snow and Vera voracious appetites immediately. They consumed all they could, stuffing their mouths with luxuries and delicacies.

  Death decided to follow the crowd of cambions, descending many steps after entering a hidden door. An underground party of demons, music booming through magical instruments, hundreds of dancers, and a few lonely drinkers sat at tables littered across the dull beige wall, all women.

  Vera tugged at Beion’s sleeve. “No,” he said sharply. “I am a terrible dancer, darling, especially in these robes.”

  “Who the fuck cares?” she said. “Dance with me or I’ll cut your dick off.”

  Death took a seat at one of the lonely tables, watching the two dance like commoners at a lowborn wedding, linking arms, skipping in circles.

  “Do you want to dance?” Snow asked shyly.

  The answer was obviously no.

  “You should dance,” Rica urged. “It’s a sign of disrespect to not dance at when the demons are dancing.”

  “What about those others sitting alone?” Death noticed.

  Rica lowered her voice. “They’re just the ones that no one wants to dance with. They sit and wait for offers. Dancing alone is also seen as a great disrespect.”

  “Idiots,” Death grunted. “They could just dance with each other instead of sitting and waiting.”

  “That’s also seen as a sign of disrespect. You’ve got to want to dance with them, not leave them as a final option. They never really get offers. People have their partners.”

  “Rude not to dance,” Snow teased. “Don’t make me command it, my love, come dance with me.”

  “Do not call me ‘my love’ again, and I shall.”

  “Deal! For now, I mean, I’m sure you’ll change your mind!”

  Snow swept him from the chair and into the others. At first, he moved stiffly. Soon, his steps found the music’s pulse. He grabbed Snows waist and spun her in wide, graceful arcs, hoisting her high above his head like she was lighter than a feather. In his final flourish, he supported her lean with one steady hand on her back, her trust in him absolute as she felt safe in his hold. She put her knuckles on his cheek, smiling with love, kissing him on the lips. He didn’t pull away like the other times she’d tried, but he also didn’t kiss her back. He kept his eyes open whilst she closed hers, staring awkwardly at her face and waiting for it to end.

  She opened her eyes and blushed, giggling. “You are a really good dancer,” she admitted. “I bet in your past life you were fun.”

  “My past life?”

  “The one your memories forgot.”

  “An odd thing to say to me when I can easily drop you.”

  “You can’t drop me, that would hurt,” she teased. “I remember I gave you a command to neverrrr hurt me.”

  “It would you hitting the floor that hurts, not me dropping you.”

  “A result of your actions.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to know what the actions of the floor would be?”

  “Are you trying to find ways around my commands, hm? You have a sense of humour now, huh? It’s cute.”

  “I am a conqueror. Do not call me cute.”

  Snow looked through the dancing legs to Aleirica. She was sat at one of the lonely tables, head in her hands. She pulled herself upright and sighed. “I don’t like sharing you,” she said.

  “What?”

  She pointed at Rica. “You should dance with her too.”

  “I didn’t even want to dance with you. Why would I dance with her?”

  “Because she is our friend.”

  “You could dance with her.”

  “I could, but I won’t. I killed so many people for you… I want this to be my real reward. I want you to ask her to dance, ask all of these lonely people to dance—show me you can be fun.”

  “I’m a conqueror. I don’t want to be fun.”

  “I didn’t command you do all of those twirls. Do I really have to command you to do this?”

  Death left the dance and slammed a palm onto Rica’s table. She jolted stiff, confused. He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the chair. “What are you doing?” she yelled. “I—I don’t want to dance!”

  “Disrespectful not to dance,” he reminded. “That goes for you too, and you.” He dragged all the lonely cambions women from their tables and collected them all. “Pick a partner, follow my lead.”

  The music thundered on as he forced the lonely demons into a sudden, joyous chaos. He grabbed a chair and threw it at the demons playing the music, shouting at them to play something faster—and they did, happily, creating a tune that made the others stomp their feet against the wooden floor that made the room shake. The demons laughed, rowdily pushing their dance partners into others.

  He grabbed Aleirica under her armpits and threw her into the air. He caught her foot, balancing her with one hand as she screamed in fear and excitement.

  “Snow!” Death yelled. “Think you can do this?”

  “Not at all!” Snow said back. “But I’m ready!”

  “Death! I’m gonna fall!” Rica shouted. “Don’t do it! I’m—this isn’t funny!” She was laughing wildly. “Put me down!”

  “If you fall, the fault is yours,” Death chuckled. “So don’t fall.”

  He used all his might to toss her to Snow, who used her new strength to mimic what Death was doing. She saw Death picking up one of the lonely cambions in the same method and understood what he was aiming to do.

  “Vera!” Snow yelled. “Take this one!”

  The cycle continued until all Death had invited to dance were up in the air and passed between a dedicated circle. “Pick up your feet!” he yelled. “Faster! No sulking! Spin them as you pass them!”

  Snow fell more in love with him after seeing how gentle he could be if he wanted to.

  At Death’s order, he ordered the women to be dropped. When they were lowered, they joined hands and dizzily spun around Death like a carousel, cheering for him. He took snow and tossed her up, catching her foot on his head and balancing her.

  “I think this roof is high enough for a third!” he yelled. “Rica!”

  “Never in a million years!” she yelled. “Pick someone else!”

  “I pick you!” he said. “It’s rude to pick someone else as a last option, remember? Get here or be branded a coward.”

  Beion pushed her towards Death, he threw her up high. Snow gave a scream of fear, trying her best—somehow, by fate, the impossible move succeeded.

  “You’re lighter than I thought!” Snow yelled. “Are you fine?”

  “I’m terrified!” Rica screamed. “Everybody looks so small!”

  “I think there’s room for a fourth!” Snow joked.

  “No! No! I’m done! Get me down!” Rica pleaded, laughing from the heart. “No one is standing on my head.”

  Death lowered them both and decided he had danced enough. He left Vera and Beion to continue, sitting back at the table with a sigh of tiredness. After only two seconds of peace, Rica and Snow sat with him once again.

  “That was amazing!” Rica exclaimed. “Where did you learn how to dance like that?”

  “It shall be the only the time you see me dance. As to where I learned it, I don’t know.”

  “Thank you,” Snow whispered. “Not a cambion left alone now. All have partners. See? Was that hard?”

  “I suppose not. I only did so because you threatened to order it of me.”

  “I never would’ve ordered you to do it,” she teased. “I think you know I wouldn’t do that… you had fun.”

  The two scraped their chairs closer to Death and rested on his shoulders. Death closed his eyes, ready to sleep. I’m surprised that Snow hasn’t been so lustful lately. Hopefully it stays this way.

  “Rica!” a voice yelled.

  A skeletal parrot flew onto their table, squawking. “Rica! You get back home now! Beion too! Bring the humans!”

  The parrot then exploded into a pile of bones.

  “Oh no,” Rica said. “That’s my father.”

  “Hold on… what the fuck was that? Was that thing alive? Where did that come from?” Snow had many questions. None of them got answered.

  Death was ready for another battle if it were to come. “Your father’s name is Morgudeion the Mauler. I remember his title from Beion a while ago. Fear not. I will talk to him. Everything shall be fine. I’ll collect the other two and handle this.”

  “You seem calm,” Rica whispered after he left. “Does the thought of my father not scare you?”

  “Why would I be worried?” she said with a smile. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that my husband sucks at lying. When he says it’s going to be okay, it’s going to be okay. I trust him.”

  “Then I’ll trust him too,” Rica said firmly. “Always.”