Chapter 1: The Chains of Deception
The sky outside the Palace twisted into a deep blood-red, streaked with fiery oranges and sinister purples as if the heavens were screaming in anguish. Shadows danced across the jagged peaks of Lucifer's infernal domain, sharp and twisted like the barbs of a broken heart. Molten rivers of brimstone slithered through the scorched earth, bubbling and sputtering, casting an eerie glow to highlight the remnants of a once-majestic landscape now shrouded in decay.
As Lucifer stood at the window, his heart heavy with the weight of Lilith's departure, his gaze flickered across the chaotic vista until it landed on the Hotel—an audacious splash of colour and life amidst the hellish gloom, a beacon of hope in a land drenched in despair. It stirred a whirlwind of thoughts in him. How would Charlie react to this news, the burden of her mother's choices pressing down on her like the weight of a collapsing sky?
Would she rise to the challenge, like the vibrant light she always tried to be, or would this revelation shatter her spirit, dimming the spark she fought so hard to keep alive?
He pictured her then, those bright yellow eyes—so much like his own, glowing like molten gold—shining with determination, yet vulnerable to the chaos surrounding her; her hair a dazzling shade of red that seemed to catch the flames of the inferno, Charlie was a beautiful fusion of her parents.
She had inherited Lilith's striking features—sharp cheekbones that seemed like they could slice through glass—yet there was a softness about her, a warmth that radiated from the depths of her soul. That same fierce spirit coursed through her mother.
Lucifer couldn't banish the image of Lilith from his thoughts. She was a storm of beauty and chaos, her long, flowing blond hair gleaming like strands of gold, cascading around a face etched with wisdom, cunning, mischief and allure.
Her mesmerising purple irises sparkled with sharp cunning, a power that could either entrap or destroy. The realisation that Lilith's choices would echo in Charlie's life gnawed at him, pulling at his heartstrings with the relentless grip of the Underworld's countless chains.
The Hotel stood defiant, yet Lucifer knew even the strongest foundations could crack under the weight of familial legacy. His thoughts spiralled into uncertainty, mingling with the inferno of his emotions as he braced for the inevitable fallout of Lilith's departure, fearing that it would leave Charlie trapped between the consequences of her mother's decisions and her aspirations.
His face contorted into a mask of fury and sorrow as he considered her, torn between his paternal lover for her and the chaos that Lilith had unleashed. The Hotel, a sanctuary for those seeking redemption, was a place of hope and transformation. The looming uncertainty gnawed at him, mingling with the raging inferno of his feelings as he faced the inevitable fallout from Lilith's departure.
Tears welled in his eyes as 10,000 years of memories rushed through his mind: their Fall from grace, the curses that bound them, the loss of their wings, and the separation of their Halo… Wait, his HALO! She had it; she was hiding it from him, limiting his power.
He cursed aloud, "Lilith! Father damn you! I will get it back; you have no right to keep it from me!" He turned away from the window to see a pool of shadows, which were not meant to be there according to how the light fell across the room.
Lucifer's jaw tightened. "Alastor," he snapped, eyes flashing, "not now." He strode to his desk, dropping into his chair with a hard thud. "I'm not in the mood for your quips."
Alastor slowly emerged from his shadows, stepping into the dim light before the desk. A faint crackle, like an old radio tuning in, accompanied his every move, "Well now, Your Majesty," he said, his voice light with amusement but tinged with that familiar static hum, "is that how you speak to someone offering their humble assistance?"
Lucifer's eyes narrowed. He knew Alastor—always meddling but rarely of real help. "Assistance?" Lucifer scoffed. "With what? I hardly need your help now."
Alastor raised a solitary eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Why, the battle against Lilith, of course. What else?"
Lucifer sighed inwardly. The endless games and veiled intentions were wearing thin. But as much as Alastor's antics irritated him, he knew he couldn't afford to sever the alliance—not yet. For now, their shared goal of defeating Lilith held them both in a fragile, uneasy truce.
Lucifer's eyes narrowed. "And why would you help me, Alastor? What could you gain from this?"
Alastor's smile did not waver. "Let's just say Lilith and I have some unfinished business. She holds something of mine – something very precious."
Lucifer's curiosity piqued, he kept his voice guarded: "And what might that be?"
"Now, now, Your Majesty, I think that you, of all people, would know without me having to say what it is." His voice strained as he all but spat the words out, and around his neck and wrists, deep violet chains appeared, sending him to his knees as they choked the air from his body.
"ALASTOR!" Lucifer sobbed out, seeing his soon-to-be ex-wife's magic bringing this mighty overlord to his knees. He scrambled around the desk, racing to his side. "Why speak of it when you knew that this would happen?"
His hands wrapped around the chains, trying to send his magic down the chain around Alastor's neck to let him breathe, but he saw how Alastor's whole body started to shake, as a small cry of pain was wrenched from his lips.
"Please, Lucifer, stop," Alastor gasped as flits of violet power sparkled across his body.
"I'm sorry, Alastor, I'm sorry." Lucifer groaned, silently cursing Lilith as he watched Alastor's body slumped over, his mind slipping into the blissful black of unconsciousness.
Lucifer slowly and gently moved Alastor's unconscious form from the floor and through a side door that led down a corridor to his bedroom. There were rubber ducks everywhere in his chambers, every surface covered in thousands of ducks, thousands of them. These ducks, a strange quirk of Lucifer's, were a reminder of his past life in Heaven, with some representing people he knew. Lucifer had to kick some out of the way as he crossed the room to lay Alastor gently on the expansive bed, the silken sheets rustling under the Radio Demon's weight, a forgotten rubber duck—squeaked underfoot, an absurd remnant of another time, its bright yellow body comically out of place in the elegant surroundings.
Lucifer looked around, seeing how much he needed to clean. With a sigh, he started gathering the ducks up and using portals to remove them to… wait, where could he send them? Oh yes, he could send them to the Palace's expansive basement.
It took him three hours to remove all but four ducks, which he carefully moved into his office. He placed them strategically on the shelf behind his desk: one modelled after himself, another of Charlie, then Vaggie, and lastly, Alastor. His gaze lingered on the duck of his favourite (though he'd never admit it, even to himself) deer demon. A small smile tugged at his lips as he set it in the centre, where it would always be within view. He couldn't help but think back to when they first met.
He stood back, looking at Alastor's motionless body, and allowed his mind to drift back to the night they first crossed paths.