Chapter 13 The Captive
A few sparks of light coalesced into the body of a god, like the Milky Way falling into an abyss, briefly illuminating the gates of hell.
The god withdrew his holy light and stepped onto the solid black stone ground. Immediately, wisps of mist climbed his white robes, transforming into intricate silver patterns that refused to leave. The god ignored them, gazing only at the gate before him.
The gates of hell had nine levels, heavily shrouded in chaotic black mist. They were enormous, yet before the god, they resembled a newborn cub.
The god placed his hand upon them, feeling the gates' joyful yet apprehensive will.
For thousands of years, according to the god's will, they had never opened for any demon, yet they could not stop demons from seeking other ways out.
"Hey! Who are you!" A rude shout came from behind. The god turned his head; it was a low-ranking demon named Dan. The demons all called him 'Dumb' because he looked rather dim-witted.
The demon Adan, unaware that God had seen through him from birth to the present with a single glance, was momentarily stunned before regaining his composure. He then charged forward, halberd in hand, like a massive, heavy wheel rolling down on him; God could feel the pebbles on the ground vibrating.
He remained silent, which enraged the demon.
"I hate your arrogant attitude! You actually escaped. Good thing I caught you."
The demons had captured many angels and demons and imprisoned them in the sixth circle of Hell, so Adan naturally assumed he had escaped, since no being would willingly approach Hell.
"I am not a prisoner," God coldly retorted.
"What is a prisoner?" the demon asked him.
"You're the one who captured me."
"Then you're a prisoner. Stop trying to deny it, come with me to see Lord Agares!"
God never liked arguing. Hearing the demon's last sentence, he gave up struggling. He had originally planned to go to Agares anyway, and now that the demon was leading the way, it couldn't be better.
"Are you an angel or a demon?" The demon Adanni walked ahead, seemingly interested, not caring about God's answer, and answered himself after asking.
"You don't have wings, you must be an elf." This not-so-bright demon rationalized everything himself.
"No, some angels hide their wings."
God didn't have wings, and the angels followed suit. Many archangels liked to fold their wings, making them indistinguishable from elves in appearance.
"So, are you an angel or an elf?"
God didn't want to answer this question. He was nothing, he was just God.
Perhaps used to God's indifference, the demon wasn't angry at his lack of response, but instead glanced at him from time to time.
The demon couldn't quite describe the feeling; he felt this captive was etched into his heart, a constant, irresistible itch that drew him back again and again.
The god, not being particularly perceptive, paid no attention to the demon's inner turmoil. Rather than obsessing over whether the demon was an angel or an elf, the god's mind was more focused on Hell. The god had never been to Hell, yet it was a familiar place.
Like Heaven, Hell was his creation, and everything here was exactly as it had been.
Although Hell was divided into nine levels, the boundaries weren't as clear as in Heaven. Darkness and chaos mingled together, even their habits were similar. Demons could choose their dwelling place according to their preferences, and every level was inhabited by all sorts of demons, though the deeper one went, the harsher the environment became.
Agares lived in the heretical Hell, filled with scorching sands and lakes of blood. Along the way, flames would frequently erupt from nowhere. Even native demons struggled to withstand the hellish fire. On one occasion, the god intervened and saved the demon from being licked by the flames.
"Ah, thanks. I didn't expect to be saved by an elf." The demon, who had nearly died, seemed quite calm.
They were born carefree and unrestrained; even death couldn't take away their fearlessness.
"Even if you saved me, I won't let you go."
Faced with such an emphasis, even a god would be speechless.
"Aren't you afraid?"
"What's there to be afraid of? I'm used to it," Adan said nonchalantly, then regretfully patted out his burning hair. He didn't have much hair to begin with, and now it was all burned away.
"Lord Agares! I've captured an escaped prisoner!" The demon stepped into the main city of the sixth level of Hell, shouting loudly.
The god pursed his lips, deciding to grant his wish upon returning, allowing him to grow a thick ponytail as his hair.
"Keep your voice down! Lord Agares said not to disturb him. Say what you need to say later," a guarding demon glared at them.
Then God was locked in a cage, along with the other prisoners. Because he had saved Adam, he was given an extra, larger cage.
He stood alone in the enormous cage, opposite another cage crammed with angels and elves. They stood shoulder to shoulder, wings touching, their eyes wary yet filled with barely concealed curiosity as they looked at their new 'companion'.
God found these gazes somewhat unbearable, but he couldn't simply escape now. So he turned his back. The heat of hell rose from the cage window, reflecting on his face and making his thoughtful expression appear incredibly solemn.
Hell has no day or night, while the mortal realm observes dawn and dusk. The demons began to rest, and all was deathly silent. God moved silently, taking a single step and finding himself outside the cage.
"Are you one of the Seraphim?"
An angel in the pile of prisoners spoke cautiously. God turned to look at the Seraphim who had spoken.
He shook his head slightly, and with just a glance, the chains binding them snapped. One by one, the prisoners emerged from their cages and spontaneously gathered around him.
"Raziel, do you know the way back?" Of the countless angels, those of lower rank might not have seen their leader, but God knew every angel and their names. He asked the one who had spoken first.
Raziel lowered his head, flattered. Although he didn't know which prince this was, he couldn't hide his excitement.
"Yes!"
"Then take them back." God paused, realizing that Raziel might not be able to successfully bring his companions back, so he closed his eyes and meditated for a while. When he opened them again, he held a book in his hand.
"Open this if you encounter trouble on the way." This meant learning on the spot and running away—quite irresponsible.
Raziel took the book, glanced through it briefly, and then began to tremble. The page on fire control alone was enough to shock him, not to mention the descriptions of wall-penetrating magic, stone-rolling magic, and so on.
Although Raziel worked under Samael, his true superior was Prince Raphael, who oversaw clerical work. He instantly understood the significance of possessing such a book and was filled with curiosity about who this powerful figure was. But when he looked up again, the powerful figure was no longer there.
"Aren't you coming with us?" he asked, staring blankly at the figure walking away.
Of course, the god wouldn't go with them. He had come to Hell for a reason. He turned away without looking back, acting willfully and self-willed, but the prisoners felt a dashing decisiveness in his departing figure, and tears welled up in their eyes.
(You provide the author Danmu's [Hebrew Mythology]: A Difficult Journey to World Formation)