Around a lake whose surface shone like liquid silver a forest of glowing willows grew. Delicate tendrils radiating soft teal and vibrant green swayed gently in the breeze, casting ghostly auras in the gathering gloom of a perpetual dusk.

An angel with the face of a cheetah sat near the shore of the lake with his back to a tall, warm stone. His eyes were closed.

“Azazel,” said a voice.

The cheetah’s eyes remained closed. He recognized the speaker well enough. They were not friends. “Michael. What brings you to this humble lake of Heaven’s garden? Surely you did not come to apologize.”

The arch-angel ignored the other’s sarcasm. “I need your help.”

Azazel smiled lazily, one eye opening. “Find someone else, great one.”

Michael chuckled grimly. “You would refuse me without even knowing what I would ask of you? Has our petty conflict so consumed you?”

The cheetah opened his other eye and sighed. “Just say it, whatever it is. I don’t wish to suffer your company any longer than I must.”

Laughter and revelry drifted across the lake, reaching the ears of the two angels. A flash lit up the far shore as someone set off fireworks, rainbows of light climbing skyward.

“Very well,” Michael said. “I have lost a brother and sister. One decided to duel the Morning Star for no reason I can understand. His lover decided to bury her axe in her own heart and follow him into Hell. Neither truly deserves to be there-“

Azazel’s half-hearted smile fell away, replaced by a seriousness seldom seen in Heaven. “The answer is no. Just because I can enter Hell without killing myself or falling from grace doesn’t mean I ever want to go there again. At least your lost angels are relatively neutral in the battle between God and the Morning Star. Lucifer may have made plans for them on a whim but…I am wanted there, Michael. The dragon would stop at nothing to punish my betrayal.”

Michael’s face was a mask. “I do not ask this of you lightly, Azazel. I realize there are risks. I would go myself were I able. I…” the tiger paused, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I beg you to reconsider. Those two don’t understand what they have done, what they face.”

Azazel laughed a broken laugh. “And you don’t understand what I would face.”

The arch-angel’s gaze locked with Azazel’s own, the tiger’s eyes exuding such a terrible determination and sadness that for the first time in centuries Azazel felt fear.

“Very well,” said Michael. “A trade, then. I will grant you my form and my powers, my very station. Change places with me. I will go to Hell myself.”

Michael began to whisper mighty words, their gathering power overwhelming.

“Wait!” stammered the cheetah, his paw rising.

A white flash pulsed over the silver lake and the forest of willows.

***

I tore squid-like creatures from my flesh one by one. My armored heel smashed one to a pulp, red gore painting the cracked and blasted stone of the road which led away from the golden gate. My sword lanced through the head of another, its tentacles writhing and questing for a grip as the edge cut it in two. I stood swaying in a cold, howling wind, covered in blood, nausea and weariness washing over me until I thought that I would drown in it.

Before me the shattered surface of the path was straight as a razor, tall cliffs looming impossibly high to either side. Their faces were jagged and wet with colorless slime, sparkling under a sky of pale pink whose color was reminiscent of ground meat. As I sheathed my sword and breathed deeply the sharp ice of Hell’s air filled my chest, so keen it was as if I had inhaled fire.

There was no way but forward. I do not know how long I walked. The minutes merged with the hours. The road’s incline began to rise, towards the shadow shrouded crown of a distant hill that hid the horizon. I did not know what I would behold when I got to the top, every step I took towards the knowledge was side by side with a growing sense of dread.

I saw movement ahead. Then Death stepped out of a glistening crevice steeped in eternal shade. The jackal was smiling grimly. “Impressive, Lazrael. I haven’t been defeated in eons.”

I halted, wary. My paw fell to my sword hilt. “Stand aside, shade.”

“I think not,” said the jackal. “You can try to destroy me but you will fail, as you failed before. I did not come to fight this time in any case.”

“Speak sense,” I snarled, sword half drawn.

“Do you even know what lies ahead, the horrors you’ll endure? Do you even know what you’re going to do now?”

His questions were echoes of the thoughts which tortured me. I glanced at the hill. At the unknown. “ I will survive this. Somehow.”

The jackal’s laughter echoed off the faces of the slime covered cliffs. “If you’re going to you’ll need help. A guide.” He bowed mockingly. “I offer myself. I’ll show you the way. For a price.”

I did not trust him at all. I weighed the alternatives, wondering which was worse. Wander blindly through Hell or travel with someone who could betray me in an instant?

“What price,” I asked, eyes narrowed.

“You’ll give me what I need just by accepting my offer,” said the jackal. His smile became something broken, his dark eyes haunted. “Time will reveal it all, I promise. I also promise that by the end it won’t seem like payment. You’ll find your soul again. Maybe…maybe I’ll even find mine.”

***

Lilith approached the rusted throne. Upon it sat a being with the head and wings of an eagle. Barbed chains banded the creature, trickles of blood winding their way through flesh and feathers.

Shivering she drew her axe. The creature’s eyes opened.