If walls could talk, oh what secrets they would spill.
The walls of Ashurbanipal could not speak but their contents held more words than any mortal could hope to understand. The great library held thousands of books, tomes and scrolls, each one carefully handpicked and placed there by a Supreme Being. These books were precious and as such, one had to have a certain level of clearing the deeper they went. Ancient scrolls full of forbidden spells and tomes on long lost magic. Stories from the realm of the Supreme Beings.
Ashurbanipal was the greatest collection of knowledge in all of Yggdrasil.
But the most valuable collection there was the memoirs of the Supreme Beings. Each tome was kept in a separate case made of glass blown from soul sand found in the deepest pits of Hellheim. The stories of their devine creation was restricted to only those of the absolute highest rankings and even then…
No one dared to touch them.
It was an unspoken rule that no one was to touch these precious tomes without explicit permission from the Supreme Beings. But oh how Titus longed to peruse their pages. Especially Lady Carisimmi's now that she was to stay with them permanently.
But alas, those pages would elude him.
Chapter 1: The Beginning is the End
The fall of Lucifer.
The betrayal of Lillith.
The temptation of Eve.
The murder of Able.
The marriage of Lucifer and Lilith at the height of the Egyptian plagues.
Each of these events were centennial celebrations within Hell. Stone obelisks, gleaming black under the eternal fires of the damned, depicted each major event of the kingdom of the forever condemned.
The largest of these obelisks, however, stood as a pillar of brilliant white. The obelisk was erected at the peak of the summer solstice and captured what little sunlight escaped the heavens as it tried to strike down the queen at her most vulnerable.
During the birth of the heir.
The babe, so small and fragile, was not meant to be born. An angel should have never lain with a mortal. But an angel should have never fallen from heaven.
This child was born with hair so white that Heaven could see it from every corner of its realm. Her eyes swam with the colors of Eden that Lilith stole her immortality from. Her skin like the Earth Lucifer swayed so easily from his father's will. Her soul was as pure and unblemished by the sins of her kingdom. No purer soul has been born since Christ himself.
But all breaths were held for the child never cried. She stared with eyes so empty that not even death could warm them. The soul was present but life seemed to be absent.
For seven days, Hell laid silent under the weight of the birth.
On the first day, the obelisk burned with the captured light of Heaven.
On the second day, the skies of Hell became clear for the first time since Creation.
On the third day, Purgatory rumbled as it expanded into the void of nothingness.
On the fourth day, the jets that served as the moon, the sun and stars went out for a startling 24 hours.
On the fifth day, a pack of albino hellhounds were born.
On the sixth day, the princes of Hell were tossed from the princess's tower by the king after a failed assassination attempt.
On the seventh day, the people learned the name of their future queen.
Carissimi Licentia.
"Dear Anarchy"
For a whole year, there was a lull in hell as the child seemed to be trapped in a permanent sleep. One the child's first birthday, finally, she cried. The king and queen rushed to the nursery and were greeted by their child sitting up in her crib, face rad as she wailed for all to hear. Six small, downy wings fluttered weakly against her back.
Demons all over covered their ears as her first cry rang with the voices of a thousand tortured angels.
From upon the throne of Heaven, God clutched his head and felt the heavens tremble under the power of that cry. All of Heaven could feel it.
An archangel had come into power.
As the years passed, Carisimmi's beauty and power grew. On her sixth year, she received seven proposals of betrothal. Five from lords of Hell and two from angels of heaven.
Each offer was sent back with a scathing rejection. No access would be given to the princess or the throne she was set to inherit. The princess was her parents greatest treasure.
One they protected viciously.
But they and every being would soon learn she needed no protection.
For innocence was merely another form of corruption.
Thirteen years.
At thirteen years the young princess had mastered her magic and learned to use her wings. Her father and mother watched proudly as she soared around the towers of the palace. Each flap of her wings sent tidal waves of lava crashing into the tortured souls. The demons bowed as her radiance shone down on them. Her smile sent every sinner to their knees in abject worship.
The princess, sadly, seemed to have no demonic power or inclination. Those six wings cemented it.
The girl was an angel. Through and through. How would she take over when her soul could be seen from Heaven. The princess bled compassion and filtered sin easily into hope. She was kind. Too kind. And many would take advantage of that in Hell.
A mortal soul escaped their punishment and hid away in the palace. This soul saw itself superior to all sought to secure its place amongst the royal family. The soul had been king of a holy empire and deemed that the virginal archangel princess would grant him the greatest kingdom.
This soul plotted for three years, gathering other damned souls to fight and take the throne. Power and a chance to go to Heaven were promised. The chance at new life and power on Earth assured. All that was required was loyalty and numbers.
The princess laid asleep in her tower, so at peace in the land of fire and screams. Her six wings glowed like polished pearls, acting as a guide to the arrogant soul. Greed, the very sin that led the soul into Hell, filled every fiber of its being.
It was not enough to simply take the princess as his bride, but to humiliate and totally possess her…
The thief, silent as the night, slipped over to the princess's bed. With a Demon Blade that he'd stolen, the soul sliced cleanly through the princess's lowest pair of wings. Her scream of pain alerted everyone to her plight.
Her father and mother raced to her tower to save her but were left speechless.
The princess stood in the center of her room covered in blood. At her feet laid her wings, still glowing dimly as they too bled on the floor. But the blood that covered her wasn't her own.
Scattered all over her room were parts of the soul that dared to harm her. His head still groaned weakly as the princess clutched it in her hands.
The princess said nothing as she was ushered away to bath and be treated.
The soul was mounted in the hellhound's pen to suffer with the sight of the princess's tower as he was devoured for all eternity.
But the princess was different after that…
Even with all the blood scrubbed away, her hair was still stained a permanent pastel pink and her wings never grew back.
Even then, she still held a pure soul.
With only the tiniest hint of darkness marring it.
To be continued...