Sophia's Chronicles
Chapter 16: The Search
Royal Inn, Rapid City, South Dakota – 23 November 2009, 10.13am
"I think you know somewhere deep down that this is where you're meant to be," his serpentine voice wafted in the air.
The young woman retreated suddenly to a dark corner of her mind. It made a little sense. Not much, but it was something. Why she'd always felt out of place – like a crow amidst songbirds.
"Look at it. And now, focus," Lucifer said, standing in front of Zara, arms crossed. She was seated in the library of her hotel suite, on a cushion rested upon the centre of the arabesque carpet. The sunlight streamed in through the window in front of her and illuminated the wall containing a vast bookshelf, which stood comfortably next to a reading table at which she was sat.
Zara stared at the bronze hawk in front of her and took a few deep breaths, allowing herself to relax. She then closed her eyes and directed attention to the hawk, trying to evoke another vision. In the quiet space of her mind, she felt removed from her current surroundings. Her mind was being pulled in the direction of a feeling, and following it, she sensed a longing—a craving for release. It still felt strange to try at all, but the very real magnetism she felt dispelled any doubts. She tried to visualise what she was receiving. Unfortunately, the vision faded the more she tried.
"Well?" Lucifer interjected. "Did you find her?"
Zara was snapped out of her meditation. She opened her eyes and Lucifer was still standing as he was, eyes fixed expectantly on her. His left index finger tapped against his right forearm. He beckoned her with just a look, as if the process should be so easy.
She sighed and glanced at the hawk. "This is going to take a while."
"Hurry it up, princess. Time's a tickin'," Lucifer ordered, foot tapping against the carpet.
"I don't even know what I'm doing," she earnestly said. "It would help if you told me what this was all for."
Despite being careful to keep her tone respectful, Zara knew she was taking her chances. It was the actual Devil after all, who stood before her, not her boss—ex-boss, now—who treated her like a real amateur sometimes. She could feel that they were on the precipice of something big, but what exactly, she wasn't sure. She didn't even know if the Devil would take questions. But she had a little thing called faith now – a complicated feeling for sure.
Lucifer sighed without committing to the full exhale. As much as he wished the blankness in her pupils would be gone, the very personal nature of the task soothed his disgust with the passive, nonchalant flow of time itself. It compelled him to quell the itch under his skin that arose for every second he stood idle. Life outside the bars wasn't quite a match to the excruciating quiet of the Cage. Out here, all that colour and potential waited for him – he just needed to do whatever it took to make it all his. Patience, Lucifer, he told himself, the seeds will grow and the rewards will be reaped. It was only a matter of time before Sam Winchester would come around. Even less so for the girl who sat before him, after all this trouble he went through to give her all the luxuries a human could want.
"Zara, are you familiar with the bible?" he asked rather casually. Lucifer angled himself towards the windows, engaging his vision with the view of the town below.
"Pft, am I?" she huffed. "My mom wouldn't shut up about it. That's half the reason I moved out."
"Right…" he dismissed with a wave of his hand. He now turned back to the room, taking slow strides towards the bookshelves. "The biblical prophecy states that I should fight my brother, Michael, to the death in a grand battle. Of course this was all decided way back in the day, before your people even began writing words."
"Uh-huh…" she trailed off, eyes narrowing somewhat at his choice of words. "You wanna kill your brother?"
Lucifer's jaw tightened as he stared at the spines of the books on the shelf with some unknown emotion. "I never wanted any of this," he simply said. "But they forced my hand. They threatened me, they threatened… Sophia. So now I have to fight for what's right. And I need Sophia at my side. I told you about her, remember? You're her vessel – the only one in the whole world who can contain her spirit."
"Yeah, I get that," Zara nodded. "But I mean, this thing." She pointed with her eyes to the hawk. "How am I supposed to use it?"
Lucifer's lips relented to the slightest curve up on one side as he looked at her. Plopping down to sit opposite her, he held up the hefty hawk in his palm. "This hawk belonged to Sophia. It guided me to you and likewise, I expect it will guide you to her," he explained. "It's supposed to be natural. Use your mind."
"I'm trying," she reported, brows furrowing in concentration.
"Your mind, not your brain," he clarified. "I know you humans are too used to the material. All this… worship of the flesh. It's so contrived and- and menial," he cringed. "My plan will change that. I'm taking it back to the basics. And maybe then, humanity will deserve this planet – whatever's left of it, anyway. But all that has to start with you. Think about it."
That's not very helpful, she thought but didn't say. "Use my third eye, got it," she nodded.
"You do understand, don't you? That all this is important?" his eyes seemed to burn into her soul with their icy intensity.
Zara felt her heartbeat rise to a crescendo, a background rhythm to the frantic thoughts zipping through her brain. Out of these initial fears, a sliver of excitement emerged as a small yet raw pulse. "It sounds a lot like… you're starting the apocalypse," she joked, averting her gaze from Lucifer as she came close to realising what he truly wanted.
"You're a fast one, aren't you?" he narrowed his eyes condescendingly. Zara suppressed the need to shrink back in her seat. "But I'll excuse it. You are cooperating, after all." He paused suddenly, a cold stare catching her off-guard. "You will let her in, won't you?"
"Umm…" she stuttered. I'm not sure what that means.
"Zara…" he uttered expectantly. "You will say 'yes' to her."
"Yes," she blurted out, not knowing what else to say. He was imposing enough as a man who was taller than her, but knowing the power he held was another source of pressure in itself. It's not like I have anything better to do with my life. Her eyes were wide, simply clueless in their gaze.
"Good," he flashed a serpentine smile. "As for your current task… The vessel is bonded to the archangel. You need to find that bond, that link to get you closer to her," he instructed. "Meditate on her name."
Zara tried again. She remembered that sudden feeling that arose mere moments earlier – her only clue. Sophia, Sophia, Sophia… she repeated to attach a name to the feeling. Show me something. Like a vacuum, her mind was sucked into a portal of absolute darkness. Even Lucifer picked up on it when he saw her eyebrows fidget in puzzlement. What is it? Zara beckoned for a clear image to appear from the black canvas. But nothing.
"Nothing!" her eyes flung open in exasperation. "Just another dead end."
"You have something, don't you?" Lucifer said, dead-eyed gaze betraying more impatience than patience.
"It's not clear enough," she sighed. "All I see is black."
"So, nothing then," Lucifer concluded. "Perhaps I misjudged you after all. Maybe you're not the one."
"Wait." Zara realised the implication quick enough. As Lucifer was about to snap his fingers and call for the demons, she added, "What if we're going about this wrong?"
He paused, a beckoning hand frozen in the air as he looked at her again. Her eyes were wide, almost begging him. Something about that soul, it's aura – at once damaged and like an empty book ready to have its pages written – gave him faith again. To see her then, soul willing and mind seeking his beloved, convinced him to listen. None of the others he'd found earlier had that vibe. They were merely confused with some moral platitude about not making a deal with the Devil. But this one… this one was curious. Like Sophia would be.
"What do you mean?" he began entertaining her skein of thought.
"What if the reason I'm hitting a dead end is… that I don't have enough to go on about her? Isn't that how divination is supposed to work?" she guessed. "What if the hawk helped you find me because you knew what Sophia was like? It guided you, sure, but only because you had a clear idea. I mean, I don't really know what I'm talking about here."
She nervously rubbed her arm, eyes straying from him. "No, no, I get it," he agreed, much to her surprise. "You do make a point. Something that your predecessors did not."
He smiled approvingly, which relaxed her. Her shoulders dropped with a tranquil ease. "Sucks to be them, I guess. Can't imagine having to go back to the ol' nine-to-five after meeting the Devil himself," she huffed. I don't have to go back to that life, she realised. It was quite a relieving notion, that her mindless day-in and day-out would finally end. Little did she know to be careful what she wished for.
"Well, they didn't go back, for one," he corrected her. She squinted briefly, not entirely sure what he meant. But she was far too preoccupied with her current task to dwell on it. "So, what would you like to know about Sophia?"
Her mind was blank at first, but she tried at least, to think of something reasonable. "What… kind… of a person… was she…?" she carefully constructed. "What were you… thinking of when you used the hawk to find me?"
"That's a little… personal," he remarked hesitantly. "But if you must know, Sophia is the archangel of wisdom. It's not something you'd find in the bible, I suppose."
"Why not?" Zara interjected, oblivious as to her interruption. If her doe eyes were any indication, this was a genuine question.
"Because sometimes men are afraid of women like her. Which is what my brothers were. Afraid," he answered vindictively. His jaw tightened again, as it did when he remembered those final moments before the Cage. "She's an intelligent one, you see. And they couldn't stand the fact that God had trusted her with all that knowledge. They couldn't even consider the fact that she'd have more honour than them. So of course they'd try to erase her from history. It's why, in their little propaganda scheme, I'm the bad guy and she's… she's irrelevant."
Zara slowly nodded. It wasn't like she hadn't considered this before – that the fallen angels were fighting for something worthwhile. But to hear it in person? It was just surreal.
"Sophia was the Keeper of Knowledge, as they called her. It was her job to know things and advise us with a wisdom second only to God Himself," he continued.
"And she was on your side?" Zara asked. She could see something stir within him as he took the time to reply.
"She saw, just like I did, the things that went wrong. Her crime? She dared to stand at my side when my own brothers wouldn't," he recounted. "But you wanted to know about her personality, right?"
His face softened, almost in a nascent smile. His mind flashed with images. With an upturned palm, he gestured for Zara's hand to take his. When she did, the images filled her mind too. Though the images were too bright and chaotic for the human mind, simple glimpses revealed a woman's laugh and a lively emerald green.
"Do you see that? How happy she was? Just to be surrounded by her books and her odd collections of herbs," he guided her visions. "God must have been jealous that even He couldn't create a woman like her."
"You love her," Zara realised. Lucifer immediately let go, suddenly self-conscious. He felt a little disgusted now that something so deep within him could have been picked up by a mere mortal. Though Zara clearly did not judge him, it was a change of pace so stark that he couldn't help but vow to keep it to a minimum.
"Just get her back to me," he ordered, words suddenly hard like ammunition. Before she could say anything else, he said, "I have other business to tend to."
Standing up abruptly, he retrieved some books from the shelf and stacked them up on the table.
"Doing your own research may help you," he stated cordially. "And of course, you should probably get yourself familiar with the team."
"The team?" Zara asked quizzically.
"As you said, this is going to be a while. So you're going to spend a lot of time around my demons. They'll be looking after you. And reporting your progress," he said rather expectantly. The young woman felt a little tingle at the back of her neck at the sound of that. "I'd better hear from you soon."
Lucifer vanished into thin air, the suddenness causing Zara to jump. Great, now I have babysitters, she frowned. How did things get to this? Standing in front of the bookshelf, she traced her index finger over the spines of several volumes of books and her finger finally came to rest on a red book. Demonology for Beginners, it read. The whole topic wasn't that strange for her, considering she had had an 'academic interest' in the dark arts. Of course, she never really believed in anything supernatural, considering she had no reason to – until now.
"There's no point to anything. Nothing means anything. We all just wake up, go to our corporate jobs, slave away for 8 hours, sleep and it all repeats. Everything has its place in society, like a cog in a machine. You, me – we're all replaceable. We don't mean anything in the bigger picture. If that's what life is, I don't want it anymore."
Zara woke up. It was another day. But this time, a day had a purpose. She scheduled her time with a vigour she'd lost after some difficult years. It was a great feeling to know that she could finally do something of value. Days were spent entering and exiting meditation, each attempt bringing her closer to Sophia than the last. Sometimes she would get extremely cold. Sometimes she smelled the sharp tang of seawater. That by itself meant nothing.
She knelt with the chalk pressed to the wooden floor. The demons only watched her for so long before moving to help. In no time, a perfect circle was drawn. The hawk was placed on the east side, its eyes facing the inside of the circle. Sunlight streamed in through the window and illuminated its bronze feathers. Fixating on the lifelike object, Zara entered the circle. She sat before it while the demons lit the candles around her and stood back. She recited the incantation:
"Archangel, I summon you
Sophia, light me with wisdom's fire
Find me for I am waiting"
Her consciousness was yanked the moment she closed her eyes. Everything she'd seen before, she saw again with a greater intensity. It was working. All that reading did pay off, after all. She picked up the ritual knife and, hesitating initially, pressed it to her left palm. A little more force and a hushed wince later, a cut was made. The pain strengthened her call.
"Sophia, I call upon you," her voice grew anguished. A magnetic force seemed to grip her like a vice. It's working. "Come to me!"
In a moment of heightened concentration, the initial tug seemed to wane. No, don't leave. She pressed the knife to her forearm. She pulled the knife fast. A hiss escaped her mouth. Not daring to open her eyes, Zara only felt the rush of something sticky on her hand.
"I am here. I am here for you! Show me where you are!" she begged out loud. Her breathing became rapid as the magnetic force returned. "Yes! Come to me!"
A cloud of euphoria filled her mind, making it feel as light as cotton candy. Her whole body gasped and shuddered. A fresh, unusual air filled her lungs—an air that wasn't of this world. But it wasn't enough. It was like she had to go somewhere, but the door was still shut.
"Show me everything! I am ready, Keeper of Knowledge! Lady of Wisdom!" she wailed. The air picked up with a sudden burst of energy. She ached to push further. "Archangel Sophia, open my eyes!"
Zara dragged the edge of the knife along the inner face of her right forearm. Blood dripped in a scarlet curtain onto the polished jarrah flooring.
"PLEASE!"
A strong sea wind flooded the room, a force to reckon even for the two demons who stood guard. And if they felt it so clearly, it was nothing short of a command for Zara. Her head shot back, eyes glowing a brilliant emerald. It was evident to any onlooker that Zara wasn't there anymore. Her body was, but her mind was in search of treasure.
A crushing sensation. Pins and pricks all over her skin – lightly at first but soon becoming stingingly painful. The onslaught of heartache brought tears to her eyes. The archangel's emotions were like a storm, fierce and avalanching. It was like thunder and lightning in her soul. A deep yearning filled her nerves and feeling it, Zara wept a stream down her cheeks. The image of a thin black snake came to her. It was eye to eye with her. Its beady eyes seemed like just another unit of its scaly skin, yet their intelligence stood out identifiably.
The snake held her in a trance while its fangs slowly came into view. The next second, its sharp teeth buried into her neck. Zara yelled, though it wasn't real. It felt real. Her head felt almost like it would explode. The brilliant energy that filled her in that moment yearned to break out of her frail human body. The snake – the vice that tightened around her neck – was all she could think about. She screamed. She thought her brain was going to fry. A soft whispering reached her ears amidst all this chaos.
Before she could properly make out what it said, the air abruptly fell stagnant. Zara, initially frozen in a kneeling position, fell back ceremoniously. The ceiling seemed to spin above her. Any attempt to lift her head failed. Soon enough, the rush of wings sounded next to her. She struggled to keep her eyes on Lucifer. From what she could tell, he inspected her from where he knelt.
"Gives a whole new meaning to 'going all out'. By that, I mean all your blood was going out of your body," he passively remarked, just as he lifted her to a sitting position. He waved a couple fingers for a demon to help with clean-up. "And would ya look at that? Not a scratch on you."
Zara looked down at her arm. There were no cuts.
It was 3am – the witching hour. A sharp ringing pierced through the air. Zara woke up, much to the reluctance of her body, and slapped the alarm off. She was barely able to open her eyes when she dragged herself out of the expensive, regal bed. The two demons who stood outside her bedroom door exchanged surprised looks as she made it past them to the kitchenette in a zombie gait.
"Can't sleep, princess?" asked the one named Martin with a distinct Southern accent. He was the bigger of the two and, while his partner sported a clean crew cut, he had his long hair styled dangerously close to a mullet. Zara had stifled her sharp mouth when they first introduced themselves.
"Just starting my day early, Martin," Zara replied, unemotional. She was too tired to care about their investigative gazes penetrating her every move and just made her green tea in peace, while her tired muscles begged for rest. While her tea was set on a coffee table to cool down, she did her morning yoga with the dark violet sky in view. Some life returned to her body.
She gulped down her green tea, enjoying its light grassy bouquet and being as mindful as she could of the experience. A familiar vibrating sensation emanated from the centre of her head as she sat down in the library to begin her meditation. After the wild ride that was the ritual of a couple days past, she decided to take things a little slower and gentler. After all, this could not be rushed. Lucifer seemed encouraged by her progress and left her to her own devices more. He even gave her an item belonging to Sophia – a platinum box containing ancient kohl. She'd been curious about the history of the object but Lucifer's stern tone suggested that she should use it for divination, not make-up.
Now she held the object in her palms while in the presence of the hawk. It gave off a strong aura that by now, she learnt to make use of. "Clarify, clarify, clarify," she chanted, envisioning the last bout of revelations.
A cool, distinct, humid breeze caressed her skin. A damp smell filled her nostrils. In her mind, deep, life-giving green shades showed up. A forest. Zara felt her awareness extend naturally. She saw animals and trees, as if they were a part of her – like they were all one living being, breathing and existing together. This was a new feeling. The clearest one too. This is where I need to be.
When she opened her eyes again, light filled her vision. A wall clock read 8am. Five hours? That fast? Then she reminded herself that she'd been here for almost a month and it didn't feel like it at all.
Martin entered just as she finished putting on her outer wear. "Uh, where do you think you're going?"
"I told you: I saw a forest. That's where I'm headed. I'll be back soon," she assured.
"You're not going anywhere alone. Let me grab the car keys," he declared.
Zara rolled her eyes. "I'd make better progress if I didn't have your demon ass distracting me. Like some kind of fly in my ear," she retorted with an acidity she didn't realise she harboured.
The demon's eyes flashed black as he scowled. "I take orders from Lucifer, not you," he said coldly, obsidian orbs boring into Zara's resolve. "So you better be a good little girl and let me drive or you can forget about your little hike in the woods."
Admittedly, she felt shivers. She soon found herself in a black SUV with the mullet demon driving and the quiet one in the back. Despite their earlier argument, tension seemed to be lost when the demons served her as normal, holding doors open for her and offering water. A little bit of pampering could always go a long way, she supposed.
"Just out of curiosity," she began, summoning the courage to make small talk with demons. "Is this apocalypse thing still happening?"
"You still don't believe it?" Martin chortled. "It's happening as we speak!"
His excitement was lost on her. "But… where? I don't see anything," she ventured. "Aren't there supposed to be signs?"
"Oh there are signs. You best believe it. Wasn't too long ago the Antichrist showed up," he reported.
"The Antichrist? Is he like how they say he is? Does he have horns and three eyes?" she asked, half-teasingly.
"I don't know," Martin answered, nonchalant.
"What, you didn't get to meet him? Isn't he like some kind of superstar for you people?" she probed. The silence that punctuated the air clued her in on a deeper mystery. "Do you at least know where he is?"
"You aren't high enough in the food chain for me to answer that," Martin quipped. "But let me tell ya, there are those who'd work against us. Hard to believe, I know. It was for me too. Whenever there's progress, there's gonna be people standing against it. But don't you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart, 'cuz you chose the winning side."
Martin turned the car onto a stretch of highway flanked by forests. They were getting close. Soon, he pulled into a car park at the entrance to a natural reserve. The clouds blocked the sun, giving the skies a light grey. The three ventured deeper into the park. The foliage grew thicker and the path became thinner until it was but a thin strip of soil that led deeper into the forest. Following the trail, Zara slowed down her pace, taking deep breaths and focusing on every step that she took. Once again, the feeling of oneness with the forest became stronger.
She ran her hands through some low-hanging branches and tree barks, feeling ribbons of cool winter breeze caress her hair. At some point, she stopped and closed her eyes, allowing the trance of interconnectedness to simply wash over her. That was when she had her next vision. This time, it was very different. The vision was much more vivid than any that she had ever had before. It was like seeing a cyclorama right before her eyes – she saw hurricanes and water spouts climbing into the sky, with a force unlike any she'd ever known. She saw ships and planes losing their way, and being devoured by the turbulent ocean. She heard the cries of men and women as they succumbed to the bloodthirsty throes of the waters beneath them. Their agony rang in her ear as faces of unbridled terror etched themselves into her soul. This vision was an aggressive one, so much so that she felt herself teeter. Martin rushed forward to catch her to keep her from falling.
"I think I got it," she panted for breath as she held onto the demon's jacket for support.
"Like, you got it got it, or is it a 'I'm gonna pass out again' got it?" Martin cynically wondered.
Bunching his jacket material in her palm, she whispered, with a trembling voice, "Just shut up and get your boss."
The necessary calls were made. All that was left to do was wait. Zara trod further down the path. It helped her calm down from the vision of pure destruction. It still shook her from the inside out, to see such… insatiable rage taken out on everything in its path. How could any person feel something so strong? Yet, in all that wonder, a morbid curiosity sparked. What would you do with my body? Would you hurt people, like all those planes and ships you sunk into the ocean? She considered this seriously, perhaps for the first time, now that it actually seemed possible that a powerful spirit would possess her.
"What have I signed up for?" she asked herself. A quick look back at her life revealed the same conviction that led her to do just as Lucifer told her to. The same conviction that, much like Descartes' Cogito, was the only undoubtable thing left—there was nothing to live for.
As she indulged breath after breath, frantic voices from times lost faded into hearing. The voices were not human. They didn't even sound like voices, except for the eerie feeling Zara had that this was someone indeed. The words were difficult to make out and didn't sound like any language she would know. When the words were uttered, they were hurled into existence hoarsely and demandingly. They pulled the atoms in their vicinity with a violent ebb and flow, almost like lava—dangerously hot but surely moving and spurting. The ocean currents refused to be synchronised. The ships were wrestled amidst their fight for dominance, passengers and crew unable to resist the marine call to consume.
While the humans cried and prayed, the voices proceeded in hollow, unbothered chants. Radars of aircrafts swung about wildly. As pilots struggled to regain control, thick dense clouds enveloped their vehicles. As much as they tried steering and using the radio to call for help, it did nothing of use. They were only met with static. Yet, a voice became apparent. An inhuman voice. Out of the opaque skies came a bolt of lightning, tearing through the air with unnatural wattage. It struck the wings of the planes and ripped them clean off. The amputated aircrafts were defeated by the rage. They were consumed by it.
Zara's breathing grew more difficult. Numb and empty inside, she couldn't help but stare blankly into the air. She couldn't stop tuning into the vision. Maybe she wanted to.
"Hey, wait up," Martin's voice snapped her out of it, at least momentarily. He strode up to her in quick, short leaps and held up an umbrella over her head. It was mid-afternoon now and the skies became a darker shade of pewter, threatening a heavy downpour. So far a mere drizzle served as a warning. They stepped into a gazebo and sat down on a bench. Amidst the light patter of raindrops, Zara pulled out the bronze hawk and, holding onto it, she once again entered a meditative state. The connection was so strong that merely closing her eyes let her drop into the realm of the spiritual. She said goodbye to her ego and let her consciousness float over the chaotic ocean waters.
At one moment, she felt light. The next, the darkness and pressure smothered her whole body. As she hovered in this dark, heavy abyss, coldness bit into her. She wasn't sure how long she'd been like this. It felt like both one second and one week at the same time. It was almost serene, being unattached to anything and simply moving with the current. That was when she saw two glowing red lights in the dark. Luminescent red eyes – Lucifer's. Self-consciousness hit her like a truck. Oh my God, I'm underwater. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. The crushing pressure of saltwater, stark blackness. All this led to the terrible realisation that she needed to breathe. With the speed of electricity, trepidation spread through her bones. The sudden onset of claustrophobia tightened her chest. GET ME OUT OF HERE!
Lucifer had been observing her silent panic, of course, as he slowly drifted towards her. Within no time, he grabbed her outstretched arm. The next second, they were back in the hotel suite, both soaked to the feet. Zara took in large gulps of air, knees so weak from shock that she clung onto Lucifer's bicep for a good amount of time. He supported her as minimally as he could. Gently, he sat her down on the couch as another demon wrapped her in a towel.
The sun had set and the skies were grim, streaked with the final rays of sunlight on the horizon like a melancholic painting. Being transported without warning from land to deep underwater could make anyone a philosopher, and Zara was no different. She couldn't help but ruminate on how thin the edge between life and death had become. But first, she shed her soggy coat and footwear despite the audience of demons. It wasn't just Lucifer and her two bodyguards – there was a whole entourage of them who came with Lucifer. They were all wide-eyed and attentive, as if waiting for someone to say something. Zara simply pulled her towel tighter around herself.
"I s-saw hurricanes and p-planes and ships c-crashing," she said, her lips quivering. "I-I think I saw the B-Bermuda Triangle."
"That was where I found you. It must be where she is," said Lucifer. Then, he spoke slowly, "I'll need you to go down there and look for her."
"H-how? It'll- it'll kill me," she managed to utter.
"That won't be a problem," Lucifer promised. Then, he turned to a particular demon whose posture straightened when the boss looked at him. "Postpone my appointments for tomorrow. I'll be busy."
Upon hearing that, there was a visible shift among the demons. One of them stepped forward. It was a woman that Zara had never seen before, who had wavy dark brown hair and an unsurprising taste for black leather. "What about the Winchesters, sir?"
"This takes precedence. I trust you'll take care of it, Meg?" he answered.
"As you wish, Father," Meg replied with a curt nod.
"You've done great work, Zara," Lucifer complimented, voice still monotonous. "Be well-rested for the morning."
Not even a 'please'? Zara kept her response contained to a nod. She was so lost in contemplation that she didn't even notice Lucifer and his entourage leave in a unanimous 'poof'. She just looked up one moment and found herself facing a personless room. Yearning to feel warm, Zara went to take a shower, turning up the heater and letting the lukewarm spray knead her shaky muscles. The lavender scent of the soap helped ease her tension and she felt more relaxed. With a hot cup of tea, she sat comfortably in the library.
Bored, she fiddled with the bronze hawk. Holding it up in the lamp light, she noticed its unearthly metallic gleam. "Where did you come from?" she asked of the inanimate object.
She had a similar question for the platinum box. Undoing the clasp, the trinket unravelled. "Ancient makeup? No way," she disbelieved. Inevitably, curiosity got the better of her. She slid the tip of her index finger across the soft black surface. "Still fresh."
It didn't take long for her to rub that same finger onto her waterline. In no time, both eyes were lined opal. When her eyes blinked once, a bright green glow radiated from her irises. Zara flinched. She looked around herself once, just to make sure no one noticed. While no one was the wiser about her vanity, a far stranger truth revealed itself. Two figures appeared as silhouettes in her vision – the bodyguards standing outside the library. She could see them through the door.
It was like a different world had opened itself up to her. Sounds were different and so were sensations. Faded mumbling sounded. Upon focusing, she found herself eavesdropping on the demons' conversation.
"Hey Martin, do you think this chic's for real?" the typically-quiet demon spoke. "Do you think she's actually gonna say 'yes' to the Queen?"
"I'll bet my left nut, boyo. You can just tell, she's got the right attitude. It's better than the one Sam Winchester's got, that's for sure," Martin drawled in cowboy-fashion. "But I gotta say, doesn't look like she knows her place 'round here. Who knows what the boss'll do when he finds out she's got a mouth on her."
"Ooh, I hope he lets us have a go at her. I miss pulling out intestines," Quiet One snarled with a malicious chuckle. "Haven't done a good tug in a while."
"The things you miss about hell… nothing like crushing a man's bones without so much as a scratch on his skin," Martin added, much to the other one's glee.
"Or setting people on fire and hearing their screams."
"Or hammering nails into their eyes."
"Or hammering nails anywhere else!"
They both shared a giggle. Zara frowned, almost cringing. Their jovial laughter ended with a sigh.
"The things we give up for the greater mission," Quiet One recounted. "I had a good gig, you know, down in the Pit."
"We all did, brother. But nothing beats knowing that we'll get to see a rain of fire burning all of humanity, roasting them all like the cattle they are," Martin enunciated more slowly this time. "If I have to watch over a bratty little bitch to see that, I'll do anything. And guess who's gonna be the first one the King asks to discipline her if she can't free the Queen?"
A chill coalesced in Zara's shoulders. It suddenly dawned on her what Lucifer had meant when he'd said her predecessors never went back. Well, he did kidnap you, she told herself. Pretty sure that was a red flag.
