Most people are not aware of where the truth lies in this world. Most people fumble blindly, trying to believe in something. Many hope for something better beyond this life. It's an incentive to remain civilized...to remain just. There are people out there who have died for this kind of blind belief.
It's easy to wish for a black and white to the situation. For a good side and a bad side. It's easy to think that if you are corrupt or morally declining, you will be punished. Either in this life or the next. Another incentive to stop one from taking revenge is the hope that punishment will come. That justice will be served.
Unfortunately..
The truth is not so simple.
There are places where there is black and white, just and unjust. But there are those who stand forever in between..just like with humanity itself.
Heaven and Hell are at war. That much is true. That's always been true. Their battleground lies within the soul of each human being. Their afterlife is dependent on the actions done in life. Perhaps it's always been a numbers game. And perhaps it's even more daunting to know that Hell is winning that numbers game.
What is less known is that in addition to maintaining the battlefield against Heaven, Hell is on the verge of it's own civil war.
Using the word civil in terms of Hell is actually kind of unusual...but Hell is not so chaotic as some would believe. And this civil war was being born of a single event.
The death of the king.
And that is where our story begins.
Hell - 9th Circle - T.R.E.A.C.H.E.R.Y
Coming here would be no easy task for a mortal. Only the most corrupt souls had reservations for Treachery. It was the last circle of Hell and as fate would have it, the only Circle that was outside of the jurisdiction of the ruler of Hell.
Lucky for Castiel, he wasn't a mortal soul. He was a Fallen; an angel that had been exiled from Heaven.
All the other circles of Hell had a consistent pattern, but Treachery was different. It changed...shifted and adapted to the person it was targeting.
The Fallen felt the familiar blast of heat that indicated the realm was trying to sift through his mind to pull memories of pain...of suffering out of him to use.
Yet he was quick to put up his mental block. It was an advanced mental form of magic that provided a very real barrier in his mind. He could feel the invasive stab of the inhabitants' attempts...and was smiling broadly behind a black mask covering his nose and lips when the attempts faltered and died.
The illusion of the circle was gone and he was left with a front view of a castle at his feet. Not so unlike the one you'd see in the first Circle of Hell that Lucifer had built from the ground up. This was meant to be a mockery of it...a signature of the new regime that the Fallen believed was coming.
He walked up the steps until he was deep within the black marble throne room and facing the figure who sat upon the throne. He was a tall Fallen with short brown hair and brown eyes that were dark enough to be considered black. He, like many other Fallen, wore all black. Boots. Jacket. Shirt. Jeans. All of it. On his back, there was the glint of a black and white hilted sword.
They called this being the Shadowalker. His angelic name was Dante. Ironic when his home was in the Ninth Circle. it had nothing to do with the story...or maybe the story found its name basis from him. He had lived a long time. He was a curious Fallen because he was not among the ones who fell with Lucifer in rebellion against the coming age of humanity. He was not cast out for that reason.
In fact, it was never known...the reason for his Fall. Much like Castiel. Perhaps that was part of the reason why Castiel had been summoned all the way here.
"If this could be done quickly...," Castiel just tried to go with breaking the weird silence first. "...I can only tolerate Treachery for short bursts."
Dante's answering smile was cold. "...Don't worry. I don't think Treachery is very pleased with your presence here either."
The Shadowalker stood up and moved to approach Castiel then, his footsteps causing an echoing sound. Even though this throne room appeared empty aside from the two of them, Castiel knew better than to buy into that. There were other Fallen lurking in the shadows. Either that or there were demonic servants. Which would have been ironic.
"I take it you can guess why I've called you of all Fallen here, Castiel," said Dante.
"I've given that some thought. The war isn't going well for you, is it, Shadowalker? It must be shameful to show your face outside of these walls. Your troops must not even get a morale boost from it. How disappointed they must be that their leader is losing to a child."
Castiel's words had certainly caused a shift in the atmosphere, the tension mounting. He saw movement in the shadows and he caught it fast.
Dante, however...was not one to appear offended. Or he was very good at hiding said offense. He just smirked, as though the Fallen's arrogant statement amused him. "I'm not losing."
Castiel smiled. "I'd say having control over one circle out of nine is losing."
"That won't be the case for long," said Dante shortly. "You're going to help me."
"And what makes you think I'll do that? I have no interest in your war. The Crowned Prince is about to become King. Soon, your little rebellion will have little choice in who they accept for their ruler. I say you lay down your weapons and accept defeat. If your pride...should allow it."
"Unfortunately...my pride does not. You're mistaken, Castiel. This war is not over. That's why you are here. You may not have an interest in the war right now. That's fine. Things change, however. The aftermath...the victor...that's where it effects everyone. Bet your life on it that if I were to win this war, you would be among the first I'd hunt down and kill myself. It's a great act of treachery, you know to defy your future king."
"That is assuming of course...that you will win. And that is a big assumption, as I said. You are losing," Castiel's eyes gleamed. But he continued to smile. "...I'll humor you. NOT because of your...little threat. Which was rude, by the way. But because I have nothing better to do at this current time...and...this presents a challenge for me, getting involved in a war. What would you need me to do?"
Dante nodded, a slight twitch to his lips in approval. "First..."
He raised his hand into a fist. "I would need to conduct a small test. I'd be remiss if I didn't do just a little one."
Castiel heard it before he saw it. The sound was so subtle. Normal ears could never catch it...and it would be a challenge even for a Fallen or a demon. The slice through the air of something small and light before the whistle as it came closer.
He never broke his gaze from the Shadowalker, just stopping the arrow just shy of two inches from his intended heart where it became idle, just hovering as though it was waiting for a command. Then as Castiel's power stretched out over the small object, it tensed and flew a few circles around the two Fallen. The flight became faster and faster until it was finally released behind him, clattering to the ground where it was blackened and smoking. Castiel blinked and the arrow exploded into red sparks, leaving only tiny smoking pieces behind.
Dante ran his tongue over his teeth, pleased. "...I can see why they call you Lightning now. Very good, Castiel. The task I have for you is very simple and straightforward. As you might be aware, the Prince has cast a ward spell on all Dimension Doors leading to Earth. It's a strong spell...but we are working on bringing it down. We only have the means at this time to allow one to pass through unscathed."
"And you want me to go through it."
Dante nodded. " We have a source within the Prince's castle. He's indicated that the Prince has escaped Hell and he's gone to the mortal world. For what...we don't know. I don't necessarily care, either. "
"You want me to find him?" Castiel asked.
"On the contrary...a victory for the Fallen is a victory no matter who holds the sword. I want you to kill him," said Dante.
"Not so prideful like Lucifer was, are you? How humble of you," Castiel remarked.
Dante ignored his snide statement, closing the distance between them even more. "...I must warn you, Castiel. If you betray me...you are betraying more than a simple sect of Fallen. You are betraying your kind. I do not take kindly to deserters in any form. If you betray us...Make no mistake. I will destroy you."
Castiel acknowledged the venom in his tone. "...That's the second time in one conversation you've threatened my life. I'm getting to think you and I are going to be good friends in the future."
But Dante was in no mood for any type of sarcasm, just kept disturbingly still as Fallen liked to do, waiting for Castiel's affirmation.
Castiel leaned in this time. "You have my word. He won't be a problem for you anymore."