Elida had slaved over her new potion obsessively. It was quite possibly the most complicated brew she'd ever done, and she was apprehensive about testing it. On one hand, if it worked, it would solve some serious issues. On the other hand, if it didn't, it could cause far worse ones. In the end, she decided it was worth the risk.
She tapped her wand and spoke into the microphone, "Allie, I'm headed out to-"
"Elida! There you are! I need a favor," Charlie ran up to her.
"Oh… hold that thought." She turned to the princess, "What is it? I was about to go do something pretty important."
"I'm sorry," Charlie cringed, "but there's been a bit of a situation with the armory."
"What situation?"
"Well, I finally got Husker to write back and tell me how he got that knife. Turns out he just walked in and took it."
"Oh geez," Elida remarked, "That's a huge security issue!"
"Exactly! So, while Vaggie and I are going through and checking to make sure nothing else is missing, can you take over class today? I would really appreciate it."
"Sure," Elida agreed. The potion could wait. Her job came first, and maintaining a visage of normalcy was essential to her experiment's success.
"Thank you thank you thank you, you're the best!" Charlie hugged her tight and bounced off, leaving Elida shaking her head affectionately.
She thought for a moment, muttering aloud to herself as she made her way to the classroom area, "Okay… Let's see… impromptu redemption lesson. Hmm…"
She entered the scene to find that the Hazbin residents had formed a circle and were chanting encouragements at two of the newer demons fighting over who knows what. Fists were flying, and the volume was growing by the second. Calmly, she fluttered above the crowd, sending a beam of ice to freeze the brawlers in place.
"If everyone would kindly make themselves comfortable," she began, speaking as if it were just another day in the office, "we can begin. I'll be covering for Charlie today."
One of the brawlers, who'd been frozen mid-punch, fell to the ground with a solid thud. She unfroze them both, and let them whine for a moment about their little argument before placing a spell of peace over them and sending them to sit down. Their eyes glazed over, forgetting what they'd been fighting about. Elida walked up to a whiteboard.
"Who here has heard of the difference between authority-based morality, and harm-based morality?"
They all blinked stupidly at her, a bit put off by the casual show of power. Not just anyone could break up a demon fight that easily. After a moment, she picked up a marker and began drawing a diagram. She drew a vertical line.
"This line is a simplified example of what authority-based morality would look like. If someone higher up on the line gave an order to someone lower down, a person subscribing to this mentality would view it as morally wrong for the lower person to disobey the higher one. Think of a parent telling their child to clean their room."
A demon raised their hand.
"Yes, sweetheart," Elida encouraged.
"Who the fuck decides who gets to be higher authority?"
Elida winked, "Now there's the rub, isn't it? Good catch!"
The demon smiled at the praise, proud to have impressed her.
"Who can think of examples of someone who might be considered more authoritative than someone else? Not necessarily that they are, but that they're perceived to be," she asked. A few hands went up. They gave their answers in turns.
"Humans and imps."
"Men over women!"
"Angels above demons?"
"Oh! A king and their subjects!"
Elida sparkled, "All great examples! Well done! Now who can tell me what the biggest problem with this philosophy is?" She waited. No hands. "Anyone?" No answers.
She shrugged, "Well, think of it this way; Who's to say the person with the perceived authority is right? If a parent tells their child to clean their room, that's a pretty low-stakes situation. But what about when a captain tells their crew to kill innocent families? Is the crew morally in the wrong if they choose to refuse? Who gives the captain the authority to decide what's right and wrong? Would a mutiny shift the moral high ground onto the shoulders of the newest captain? Power shifts, making this," she pointed to the line on the whiteboard, "a shaky way at best of deciding what's right and wrong."
Jono leaned forward, an uncharacteristic look of interest on his face, "So how do we decide?" He asked. "The vibes?"
Elida giggled sweetly, "How indeed! Great question, honey. Which brings me to the ideology I personally prefer."
Next to the line, she drew a three-dimensional graph, labeling the x, y, and z axes as she spoke. "This is a vague representation of the harm-based morality system. On this axis, you have intention. Did you mean to help, or did you mean to harm?"
She pointed to the next axis, "On this one, you have quantity of affected people. Did you do something that helped or hurt a single person, like paying for someone's dinner versus starting a fight in a classroom," she raised a cheeky eyebrow at the brawlers, "or did the action you took affect countless people, like starting a hotel to save sinners from Hell versus dropping a nuclear bomb? The more people who are affected, the further along this line your action goes."
Then she pointed to the last axis, "And this one represents the actual effect. Did your choice end up helping people, or did you end up hurting them? When you look at all three axes together, and you plot your decision on this graph taking all three factors into account, you can see where your decision falls on a scale of harm-based morality. It's a spectrum."
"Ahhh, but what of the fourth dimension?" A new voice chimed in from the back of the room. Everyone turned to see Alastor smiling in the doorway, listening attentively to his significant other. He seemed to be the only one that didn't look openly confused.
Elida smiled, "Oh? Do elaborate," she prodded.
"Well, you've got intent, quantity, and affect. But what about one's self? Some actions may help others but harm you, or vise versa."
"That's true," Elida nodded, her smile widening to mirror his. She loved their philosophical debates. "I suppose you could consider yourself among the quantity number, because a choice you make might hurt one person, but help another."
"So you're saying," Alastor leaned on his staff, "That in the case of the trolley debate, you'd choose the lower number, as it's an inherently higher moral ground, purely on the basis of quantity harmed. Someone dies no matter what you do, so you'd be in the right for choosing the greater good?"
"That could be argued," Elida agreed, "but that problem has its own flaws. For example, there's so little information, that it removes the possibility of contextual nuance. Do I know them? Am I biased? Are they cruel people versus kind people? How old are they? Does it matter?"
"I would argue that that's the whole point of the exercise," he debated. "By removing the emotion of 'ifs' and 'buts' you can view the situation from an analytical and purely academic perspective."
"Life is hardly analytical and academic when it comes time to make real-world decisions. Let's use you, for example. You kill people. But you never kill innocent people."
"Well now, what makes you say that?"
"Observation."
"Truly, one of your strong suits. But two can play at that game. You will watch people get killed, despite having the power to stop it. Is their level of innocence relevant, or is your inaction an insidiously evil act?"
"Inaction is, by definition, not an act. Therefore, it can't be an evil one."
"So that begs the question," Alastor examined his nails, "Why are you even here? You could have remained in Heaven and chosen not to come help us poor wayward souls, but you're residing in the worst place that has ever existed purely for the sake of helping others. Even your own death was a result of choosing to intervene in a situation you could have just as easily justified staying out of."
"That's a great segue into my main point," she beamed. "Because whatever led to a soul ending up in Hell, inaction is not enough to redeem them. They need to be high enough on the good end of the spectrum to move their souls from one realm to the other."
"I adore your intellect," Alastor laughed. "Well, I'm here now, may as well join you for your little lesson. Though, I do have a thought on your authority-based scale…"
The rest of the demons tried to keep up while Alastor and Elida heavily debated the real difference between right and wrong. A few weren't paying attention at all, but most of them were so enthralled in the debate that they very nearly jumped when Elida gasped.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Class was supposed to get out half an hour ago! I'm so sorry, friends, I lost track of time." She dismissed them, "I know some of you have to get to your jobs. Feel free to blame me if your bosses make a stink about you ending up late."
Alastor remained in his seat, back straight, ears up, and hands on his knees as the other demons left the room. "What were you saying earlier, dearest?" He asked cheerfully. "Through your wand, I mean."
"I was just letting you know I'd be headed out to go do something. I'll be back by the end of the day."
"Will there be chaos?"
"Probably."
"I'd be delighted to join you, if you'd allow it."
"I wish. But I have to do this one on my own. Charlie and Vaggie could use your help, though."
"Oooh, I smell tea," he narrowed his eyes in intrigue. "Well then, where is dear Charlie?" He asked her.
"The armory."
"Interesting. Do return before dinner, would you? I'm trying one of the recipes from that special book of mine."
"Don't make it without me!"
"You don't even know what it is yet."
"So?"
"Fair enough. I'll wait. But only if you bring back some fresh bread." He faded into shadow, melting off to see what the princess was up to.
When she was alone, Elida gathered her courage. She opened a portal to Heaven and stepped through it. Lifting into the air, Elida stretched her wings. The fresh wind kissed her face as she soared. She could still fly in Hell, but it was more hazardous than Heaven. Here, she was less worried. She had to admit she missed the freedom.
Elida cast portal after portal, making sure that it would be impossible to follow her and find out where she was going. She didn't know if she was being watched or not, but she couldn't take any chances here. Once she was confident in any hypothetical pursuers' lack of ability to find her, she cast a mapping spell. On a piece of parchment, an image appeared of an establishment several thousand miles away in a quiet little middle-of-nowhere village.
Letting the magic guide her, she opened one more portal, shrinking down in size to make herself harder to notice. She gathered a puffy white shroud around herself for good measure. To a casual or untrained eye, she appeared as nothing more than a whisp of heavenly cloud. Gliding softly through the air, she moved with the wind until her ears caught two angels arguing. That alone was uncommon enough to listen in.
"I did ma best, whadd'ya want from me?"
"I want an arm that won't snap in battle. This piece of garbage couldn't even handle a single sparring session!"
"What could'ja possibly want to go inta battle fer?"
"That's none of your business."
"If it's none of my bidness, then you can kindly leave MY bidness. Either chill out or git out."
A smash, a shatter, and a shout later, and Lute burst out the door with a sour expression. She flew off in a huff. Elida followed.
She stalked Lute for nearly three hours, following just out of sight as Lute sought out another smithy. From what Elida could piece together from her conversations, Lute had been having some trouble replicating the steel arm. Good for Pentious.
Elida wondered if it had to do with his ex-demonic status. Demons fought every day, forcing their craftsmen to make sturdier and sturdier products. Sir Pentious might be a more talented engineer than even he fully understood. Necessity was a spectacular instructor.
Eventually, Lute found a blacksmith she hadn't harassed into banning her from his shop, and she commissioned another arm. Elida had her doubts that it would be any better. But in the end, it wouldn't matter. Not that Lute knew that quite yet.
When Lute finally stopped to get some lunch, Elida waited for her to look away. When Lute's eyes were elsewhere, Elida slipped the new potion into her drink. Watching from a corner to make sure she drank it, Elida stayed hidden. It didn't take long. Luckily, Elida had the foresight to make the potion flavorless. On top of that, the first effect it had was to make the drinker very very thirsty. Lute drank deeply from her cup, downing the entire potion in a matter of seconds before ordering another drink.
Elida felt the second effect immediately: an invisible thread of magic connected the two of them. Lute's life essence entangled seamlessly with Elida's magic, pulling it into her. Exerting her will, she kept it from draining Lute too much. She didn't want it to be noticeable. She had to do this all in the correct order, or it would end up starting the very war she'd worked so hard to avoid.
Whispering away toward the next leg of her journey, Elida left Lute to her lunch, instead showing up at the exorcist training grounds. Armored women with wings and spears all sparred together, the clang of metal like a rhythmic percussion. It was almost musical in nature, the way they parried and shouted in time with one another.
Elida had to suppress the urge to start a snowstorm in anger. Every video she'd seen of the exorcists had shown them in cloth uniforms. That meant their armor was new. And that meant the Seraphim was preparing for war behind her back. Did the presence of the Redeemed mean nothing? How could they be so heartless and vain?
They'd erected a commemorative statue of Adam in the center of the training grounds made of shining gold. One angel sat on top of it, sharpening a knife.
Time for step two.
Elida began spreading rumors.
Voicing fake conversations with herself near some of the exorcists, Elida made sure people could hear her without knowing who or where she was. She wanted the rumors to fly without anyone being able to tell where they came from. So, she added some nuggets of truth to them, and some flat-out lies. The only common thread she put in each of the rumors was, "The Hell Ambassador has lost faith in the project. War is coming. She has information that can help the leader of the exorcist army."
By the time the sun began to set, the training grounds were abuzz with angelic warriors gossiping away about who knew this, and who said what. When Lute returned, an entire gaggle of exorcists were waiting to tell her all about the rumors they'd heard. No one could tell her where they came from. It got very confusing very fast, but they were all riled up with bloodlust and excitement.
Elida refused to leave until she heard Lute say, "Fine! I'll go down there and sort this out myself. We'll see what that icy bitch knows."
Jackpot.
Elida drifted away, safely floating off to a private area where she could open a portal. She bought some fresh bread, then headed home. Elida went to go find Alastor. She was shaking and needed to be near him for a bit.
He was waiting for her. Standing in the kitchen, ignoring the cook throwing things at his face, Alastor smiled. "Welcome back, dearest, how was your little trip?"
"Effective," she said vaguely, growing back to normal size and shaking off the cloud she'd been hidden in.
"Oh for fuck's sake, get out of my goddamn kitchen!" the cook shouted. They ignored her.
"I trust you were successful?" Alastor asked, removing his jacket and putting on an apron.
"Up to this point, yes. We'll see how it goes. By the way, if you see the assassin coming for me again, pretend you don't notice."
Alastor did not like that. "Why?"
"Because a fight with you would kill her the wrong way."
"There's no such thing, lover," he pinched her cheek. "Now then, are you hungry yet?"
"Famished. Let's cook."
"Yes, let's!"
They shooed the rest of the kitchen staff out of the room, much to the hotel chef's chagrin. But Alastor was their boss, so they had to do what he said or risk getting fired… or worse. Elida found it amusing how crotchety the cook could be. They seemed to have no self-preservation instinct. But Alastor liked her food, so he didn't kill her.
When they were finally alone, Alastor snapped his fingers. A radio appeared in the corner of the room, and some nice background music played while they worked. Elida got going on a sauce, while Alastor sliced up some fresh vegetables. They sang along to the music, and made stupid food puns, and set a few things on fire. They followed Alastor's mother's recipe to the letter.
While the food was simmering, Alastor turned the volume up on the radio, holding out his hand to Elida. "May I have this dance?"
She glowed a little brighter, "I thought you'd never ask."
They let themselves forget all about war, and angels, and demons, and hotels, and they simply danced. Twirling back and forth in the kitchen, taking comfort in one another while the smell of fresh food perfumed the room. She felt so safe when he was around. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting him hold her close. He hummed softly to the radio as he rested his head on top of hers.
For the first time, Alastor wondered if maybe redemption might be worth a shot.