"A walk?" I looked at Nagas, then back at the jagged horizon of Gaya. "Sounds like something a human would say."
We both chuckled, a rare moment of levity in the heavy gloom of the palace. As we descended from the balcony, Nagas led me toward Rue.
In the hierarchy of Hell, Rue is the processing center for the truly wretched. When human souls are condemned, they are sent there to begin their lifetime of "rehabilitation" which mostly involves screaming. We walked through the narrow, twisting streets, where the ground was paved with a fine, grey ash that clung to my boots. I realized my cheeks were starting to burn, a prickling heat crawling up my neck. I hoped he'd think it was the ambient glow of the sulfur pits nearby.
"Are you okay? You look a little pale," Nagas said. He stopped walking, turning his golden, slitted eyes toward me. He reached out, his index finger brushing against my cheek to tuck a stray hair behind my ear.
I shuddered under his touch. A sudden, violent heat flared through my body that had nothing to do with the environment. It felt like my skin was humming, melting under a gaze that saw too much. I wondered, not for the first time, how my sister had managed to secure the devotion of such a divine being. Nagas wasn't just a demon; he was an apex predator carved out of grace and shadow.
"I'm fine," I stammered, quickly sprinting a few paces ahead to put some distance between us. "It's just... the heat. It's illuminating everything today. It's intense."
We finally arrived at the edge of Rue. From our vantage point on a crumbling obsidian bridge, we watched the torture-demons performing their duties. The sounds were a symphony of agony, wet, tearing noises followed by the high, rhythmic wails of those who finally understood they weren't waking up from a dream.
"The best part," I whispered, watching a soul plead with a demon who was busy sharpening a rusted hook, "is when they think they can still be saved. They haven't realized that once the gates of Gaya close behind you, the world of the living is gone forever. Unless, of course, you're a high lord with a key."
Nagas looked at me, his expression unreadable, his snake-like pupils thinning to mere needles. "Are you not intrigued by their screams anymore, Ria? You seem... elsewhere."
"I want to go there," I said. The words were out of my mouth before I could process them. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic human rhythm in a world of slow, demonic pulses. "I want to go to the human world."
Nagas went still. "You think you can pull that off? Ria, even I, a master of disguise, could barely resist the urge to feed on their souls when I visited. I didn't belong there. Their light... it's abrasive. It burns the eyes of those born in the dark."
"You don't belong," I countered, turning to face him fully. "But maybe I would. I'm half-human, Nagas. I have their blood in my veins. Maybe the light wouldn't burn me."
"True," he conceded, his voice dropping to a cautious whisper as a patrol of winged guards flew overhead. "But how? You don't have a key, and the Seven Gates are guarded by the Kings themselves. Your father doesn't leave his hanging on a hook by the door."
"I'll work on that," I said firmly, my mind already spinning with the logistics of theft. "For now, I should head back. I've seen enough of Rue today."
"You mean you're going home?"
"I'm going to the palace," I corrected. "There's a difference."
The walk back was draped in a heavy, contemplative silence. When we reached my room, I turned to him at the doorway. The bones hanging from my ceiling rattled softly in the draft. "I had a good time today. Thank you. I needed to wrap my head around some things, and the screams... they did the trick."
Nagas smiled, a slow, dangerous thing that reached his eyes. "Don't mention it. I'm here whenever you need to talk. So is Hazel. She has your best interests at heart, Ria. You're her favorite person... well, besides me."
We both laughed, and for a second, the crushing weight on my chest lifted.
"I know," I said softly. "I'm grateful for you both. At least I'm not alone in this hellhole."
"We aren't going anywhere. Goodnight, Ria."
He stepped out, and I collapsed onto my bed. My mind was racing. Seven gates. Seven keys. My father, Asmodeus, held the key to the Gaya gate. It was the only exit for the lustful, and the only way out for me.
I stared up at the ceiling, where the decorative bones of fallen lesser-demons hovered in a slow, enchanted orbit. They looked yellowed, rotten, and pathetic, much like I felt. I needed a plan. And that plan started with a visit to the King of Lust himself.
I changed into my favorite maroon velvet dress, the fabric heavy and soft, lending me a confidence I didn't truly feel. I flew toward the Royal Wing, my wings cutting through the stagnant air. As I approached his study, I stopped dead.
A voice filtered through the heavy oak doors. A voice like silk stretched over a razor blade.
"Well, it's very rude to just stand there," Lilith purred from inside. "Open the door. Come in. I won't bite... but I'm not promising."
My blood turned to ice. "I shall return later," I called out, already half-turning to flee.
"Why not now?" she countered, her voice ringing with an authority that demanded obedience. "I find it so absurd, talking through wood. Do come in, Ria."
I took a deep breath and pushed the doors open. The study was dim, smelling of expensive incense and old blood. Lilith was draped across my father's desk, her clothes practically falling off her in a way that screamed desperation for attention. She looked like the Queen of Harlots she was, her dark eyes glittering with a ancient, hungry malice.
"I would like to speak to my father. Alone," I said, keeping my chin up.
"I would also like to meet your father," Lilith sighed, examining her sharp, black nails. "But he wasn't here when I arrived. So, I decided to wait. You should, too."
"I'll wait across the room," I snapped, walking as far away from her as the walls allowed.
Lilith reeked of ancient, concentrated evil. Even in Hell, her darkness stood out, it was thick, oily, and felt like it was trying to crawl under my skin. She had looked at me with loathing since the day I was born.
"How nice," she said, sliding off the desk and walking toward me with a slow, swaying gait. "Staying so far away from your mother?"
She smiled, showing rows of perfect, sharp teeth. My breath hitched. Was she going to do it here? Kill me in the King's own study? I backed toward the door, my hand searching for the latch, when the heavy, booming footsteps of a giant echoed in the hall.
The door swung open, and Asmodeus stepped in. He was towering, magnificent, and terrifying, his fine silk shirt splattered with fresh, steaming blood that looked almost black in the dim light.
"Father!" I gasped.
Asmodeus blinked, his dark eyes focusing on me as if I were a ghost he'd forgotten to exorcise. "Did I miss a meeting? Ria... how nice of you to visit. It's been years, hasn't it?"
The casual way he said it, years, stung like a lash. I was his "favorite," yet he measured our time apart in centuries.
"Mhm... I'll come back another time. Excuse me."
I scrambled past him, the weight of his presence making my legs feel like lead. I ran until I was outside, flying toward the training fields to find Hazel. I needed her to tell me I wasn't crazy. But when I arrived, she wasn't training.
I spotted her in the distance, sitting on a pile of bleached bones. She wasn't alone. Nagas was there, leaning close to her, their heads bowed in a private, intimate conversation.
A wave of sadness washed over me, so thick it stifled the anger I expected to feel. I didn't want to be the "little sister" who interrupted. I didn't want to see them happy.
I turned and flew away, pushing my wings until they burned, heading for the deserted fields on the outskirts of the territory. This place was a graveyard of memories, an abandoned detention center where the silence was the only thing that didn't demand something from me.
Just the red dust, the silence, and me. Just Ria.