Angel blood and demon heart

The Devil deliberates on my question for a moment, tapping his black nailed fingers on the side of the table. For a short while he stares at nothing, a blank expression on his face, before he finally sighs, leaning back in his seat.

"It is true, I am feared for many reasons- and rightly so. I collect the souls of the dead and damned, I bring them down for judgement in my court, and harbour them in the afterlife. What terrifies mortals the most is that I send the worst of them to the flaming fields of punishment to suffer for eternity- I dispense a sort of justice, you see," he says, trailing spirals on the table with his fingers, humming under his breath.

"But," he adds, holding up a slender finger. "What terrifies people the most is what I can do. Every once in a while, I offer chances to the poor souls who seek my help, I let them lead a new life. They are transformed to revolutionaries, join my ranks with the other demons in hell- my people. Over the years I have built up quite the army of demons who pine for the freedom they were never granted- this undoubtedly terrifies the Upper Realm. Like the Upper World rulers who are content to live a life of ignorance and rule with greedy fists over the land. People like your mother," he adds, giving me a knowing look. A warm flush runs through me.

It is true, after all, that the people of the Upper Realm- at least the ones in power, are as greedy as they come. Constantly searching for new sources of dominance, wealth, ways to expand their kingdoms and who to recruit for their next crusade of destruction. Time and time again I have seen my mother barter with the other kingdoms of the Upper Realm, claiming smaller ones under her banner, too tight-fisted to ever give anything up. Hatred festers in their souls like maggots on a corpse. Inequality and corruption spreads through the land like a plague. There has been a divide between the realms for a very long time, ever since the Devil fell from heaven himself. Everything just went downhill from there.

"The Realms have been at war for years. There would have to be some mass revolution- or revelation- to fix that, and I can hardly see that happening any time soon," I laugh, but the Devil does not. Seeing the expression playing in his features, the smile is quickly wiped from my face.

"You are serious," I whisper, bringing my hand to my mouth. "You want to bring the worlds together."

"Actually," Valerian whispers slyly, his lilac eyes gleaming with the promise of hope. His fingers curl around my hand, his touch soft, his motions gentle. "I want you to do it."

My response is immediate.

"Me? Fuck off. What can I do that you can't?"

Valerian draws himself closer, his eyes lowered, his expression closed. I don't even think to move away as his fingers brush over my cheek, wiping away something that I cannot even see, too encapsulated with a dreadful shock and doting amazement.

"But that's just it, chérie," he coos, leaning closer still, his arms braced on the side of his throne like chair. "You are you. You are everything I cannot be. I inspire terror, fear, and those are not the emotions that will guide us into the new age. I cannot lead a reform, I can only guide it," he explains, at last leaning back, causing me to echo a short lived sigh of relief. Talk about getting up close and personal.

"People fear me for what I represent: a justice system, and a force of chaos. I cause ruin to kingdoms and people who rule carelessly, who think they can live their lives with greed and pitiful injustice- of which there is plenty of in the Upper Realm. And if there is one thing I hate more than anything, it's injustice," he says with a snarl, his fingers clenching into fists, hands white at the knuckles. A purple fire flickers from his form momentarily. Then he blows out a breath, giving me an apologetic smile.

"I have too many sins under my belt, and too many years. But you are different. You are a girl who lived a mortal life, with a demon heart and angel's blood. Neither good, nor evil. You have compassion on your soul, and so, so much potential."

At this I scoff, but Valerian throws me a sharp look and continues anyway.

"My people strive for freedom, to roam without scorn in the Upper Realm, for they too were once people, once lived a life without having to hide in fear. Your arrival has been foretold to all the realms for many years- and what you are capable of. There are some like your mother who fight against it, but many, even some in the Upper Realm, who long for the day peace and prosperity are brought to all realms. For a time where we can at last live in a harmonious coexistence. You, chérie," he says, softly now, wisping his fingers over my hair. "Are the key to all this. You are a symbol of all our worlds combined- angel blood, mortal mind, and a demon heart. You shall change the world, it is your destiny."

Cracking a grin, I turn to him, rising from my seat.

"That sounds like some prophetic, convoluted bullshit to me. Destiny- pft. As if that ever meant anything to me. I am just some girl who happens to have a messed up heart- I am not even supposed to be a demon! Let's not kid ourselves, I am rather useless. I can't change the world, I am nothing."

All at once Valerian is against me, his fingers tipping up my chin, his eyes lowered, sooty lashes pressed against his cheek. I can feel his breath upon my skin as his brings his lips close to my ear, tingles running down my spine as he whispers:

"Do you honestly think I would want you to be my consort so greatly if I didn't believe you were the right person for this?" He leans in a bit closer, and this time it is impossible to deny the flush that rises across his cheeks.

"You are everything, Elowyn."

As he pulls back, I stand there, numb with shock and trembling from the suddenness of his actions. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

For a moment, Valerian stands there motionless, a look glowing in his features that I can't quite pronounce. From the way his lips twitch, his wings flair, I can tell there is something else he wants to say, left on the cusp of admittance. Then, thinking better of it, he relents, turning towards the door as he motions back towards me to follow.

After I have managed to catch up with him, he hesitates at the double doors, his hands lingering on the handles. Before I can retort any witty comments, he murmurs gently:

"You are the least useless person I know," before pushing open the doors and leading us out.