[Epilogue – Into Uncertainty]
"Cower, human. Cower before the might of Winter."
Snow.
Snow was everywhere. Brutal blizzards flooded the skies with chilling winds that reached to temperatures floating above below zero, raging in the open winter landscape. Not a single visible creature roamed—and if there were any, they were under the cover of the thick blanket of the mystical tundra. Mixed with the endless winter, powerful magic fluctuated throughout the skies—neigh, the snow itself was magic.
The skies were forever tainted by the darkness of the night. There was not a single spec of sunlight—as if the very sun had been plucked from the sky, or had simply never been. The temperature of the surrounding area, if measured using either template of measurement, would easily be below zero.
And, as if to prove that point even further, located within somewhere of this massive, never-ending tundra, sat a towering castle made of black ice. It was structured like something out of the medieval times—a war fortress, more than anything else. Green and amethyst coloured energy shifted and twisted beneath the black ice, and the architecture was something to be marveled at.
It looked like a grand cathedral, made even more monumental by the massive spire that was seemingly carved with as much care as a painting. Each curve, each cross, and each turn was made with delicate hands—a sign of both wealth, power, and most importantly of all, respect.
The inside of the castle—Arctis Tor—was maze-like, purposefully designed to make it as confusing as possible. Though, if one had lived in such a castle for as long as the primary resident had been, it was like looking at the back of ones hand.
At the top of the castle, within the elegantly shaped spiral tower, there was a throne room surrounded by a garden of ice. But, it was not a typical garden—not that any garden of ice would be. If one were to pay any amount of attention to ice trees, plants, and flowers, one would notice that there were things trapped inside the ice. From trolls, to faeries, to goblins, to even some humans who were bold enough to invade the heavily guarded walls; and if they somehow managed to penetrate the impregnable walls of Arctis Tor, their fate would be to become part of the rulers ice garden.
And standing within the center of that garden of ice was what could only be described as one of, if not the most hauntingly beautiful women to have ever been born. Long, flowing elegant locks of snow-white hair that reached down to her back with skin equally as white. Opalescent green eyes that shined like polished gems and complimented her perfect figure. Every curve of her body was shaped in such a way to attract the most attention on her and her alone. Even her lips, which were coloured the same as frozen mulberries, were perfect.
By design, she was the fairest of all lands, of all time, period. There was nothing that could top her in beauty. But just because she was beautiful on the outside that did not mean that the woman was anywhere near that on the inside.
After all, one does not gain the title "The Queen of Air and Darkness" by being pretty. Neither does one be named "The Queen of Winter" by the same merits.
Mab could be described in one sentence. A brick wall with the personality of a ruthless dictator. She never emoted. She never smiled—the most you'd ever get out of her was the slight-upturn of her lips—and she acted with a cold professionalism that rivalled most sociopaths. When she spoke, you listened, lest you die. Though even then, to mortals, even her voice was a deadly weapon.
And if she did have her attention on you, then it was never for a good reason.
One of the more notable and recent things that Mab has done—since that list is longer than The First Testament—was the creation of the Unseelie Accords. A list of rules that all supernatural beings and signatories were required to listen and adhere to, lest they face Mab's wrath.
Though, for all her power, and for all she was worth, and for how cold and calculated she could be, there was only one person whom she could never predict. Never plan for. Never so much as even have even the faintest idea of what they'll do next. Because, at their core, they were the definition of deceit, treachery, and first and foremost, impracticality.
A brief alarm flashed through Mab as she tended to her ice garden. Without a single hint of hesitation, she thrust her hand out, and with an effort of will, an iceberg's worth of a stalagmite flung toward whatever it was that had dared step foot into her throne room unannounced. However, it did not end in the way that she had hoped. Rather, the being that had so brazenly offended her side-stepped the fatal attack, slapped it with the palm of their hand, and dumped an unnecessary amount of Hellfire into it, shattering it into tiny fragments that melted into droplets of water, before refreezing upon hitting the ground.
The smell of the Hellfire was enough for Mab to recognize who it was, as the very hint of a smirk played at her lips before her face defaulted into a straight-laced expression. Typically, she would need an interpreter for when she spoke. But, for that particular individual, it did not matter.
Turning to face them, Mab politely placed her hands in front of herself, steepling her fingers as she carefully eyed the intruder. They were dressed in that awfully tacky outfit which consisted of a white coat that reached down to their knees, a red and black crisscross striped shirt, and a pair of matching white pants with a top-hat that had a bitten apple-motif attached to the golden band.
Their face, pale of skin but still darker than Mabs own, was adorned with two red cheeks that appeared painted on. A wide, toothy grin took up their visage as their golden yellow and red eyes burned with a tinge of annoyance that near matched Mabs.
"Gotta admit, Mab. You really do have a penchant for trying to kill me. Not that it'll ever work, mind you, but hey! You get an A for effort," Lucifer Morningstar spoke in that disgustingly cheerful tone of voice that indicated pure mockery.
"Get to the point," Mab said, her voice sharp, filled with anger, and containing just a hint of venom. "You have wasted my time more than enough. I have already told you. I will not allow your little hellspawn to run rampant here."
"Do I need to get my Dad involved?" Lucifer retorted as Mab's expression did not change. Lucifer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I've offered you Hells Armies to aid with your wall, I've offered you free reign to travel the Multiverse for soldiers for your wall, I've even leveraged sinners souls! What more do you want?!"
"I. Want. Her. I told you this when we first met. My answer has not changed," Mab responded as Lucifer scowled.
"She isn't mine to give. You'd have to ask Loki, and we both know what he'll do if you so much as suggest that, let alone what he'll say. I'm God-like, he's just a straight up God. We both know what happens when he gets pissed…" Lucifer said as he shivered. "The less we talk about The Hectare Solar System and its erasure from existence, the better… Who knew the horse fucking rumors pissed him off that much."
"Then I believe we are at an impasse. You know my conditions. I will not budge."
Lucifer threw up his hands in defeat, as he snapped his fingers and summoned his throne underneath of himself. Slumping back in it, he rested his hand on his left cheek, frowning. "What do you even want her for? For your wall? She'll kill you, or die trying, if she sees what you're doing. She's far too protective of children to accept it, even if its for the greater good of your world."
"Do you believe I should be scared of some petulant child?" Mab questioned as Lucifer scowled.
"No. I'm telling you what would happen. C'mon, Mab, there's gotta be something. Work with me here. You want Jolyne, I want her to enter your world. Loki is the one who owns her and we both know you want nothing to do with him. I'm trying to avoid that confrontation from happening. Besides, I need to collect contracts here and I can't do it myself. That, and I need to get Anduriel and his cronies back to Hell—of whom refuses to and is actively pissing me off. Don't you want those hooligans out of your world?"
Mab tapped at her chin in thought, her expression not even so much as budging, before she hummed out an answer. "Yes. I do. They are very troublesome. Always trying to find loopholes in The Unseelie Accords without directly breaking them. Always slipping away from my grasp. However, The Holy Knights are already dealing with them. Why should I allow your little hellion to do it?"
"Because rather than being locked in a vault at the Vatican, they would be brought back to hell, and be destroyed for their disobedience. You would never have to deal with them again. Your world would become marginally safer, and you'd have one less set of rule breakers," Lucifer replied matter-of-factly.
Mab stared at him, her expression unmoving, her body language as still as a sheet of ice. "As appealing as that would be, I still stand by my former demand."
Lucifer narrowed his eyes, and suddenly, despite how cold Artis Tor was, the room became very hot. Hot enough to even cause a single line of sweat to slide down the side of Mab's face—not out of fear or concern, but due to the general temperature spike.
"Alright. Fine then. You want to play like that, then so can I. How about this? You either let my Dreadknight in, or I burn your precious wall down to the ground, kill all those little brats you've stolen, and then rake you over the hottest pits of hell, and watch from my throne as The Outsiders have their way with your precious little dirt ball. I'm sure The Almighty wouldn't care in the least if another world fell victim to random happenstance," Lucifer replied cooly, his voice calm and unbothered.
Mab did not flinch at the threat. She had no reason to believe him. After all, for as evil as Lucifer claimed to be, he would not dare do such a thing. He was a Fallen Angel, yes, but still a Creation of God.
"You lie."
"Wanna bet?" Lucifer said, as he snapped his fingers. When he did, a mirror appeared before the two of them. In the mirror, it showed the entire planet on fire. Literally. Not with cartoonish flames but with the oceans being replaced by magma, lands being seemingly burnt to a crisp, and an aura of hellfire running around it.
"What illusion is this?"
"The future in the next fifteen seconds if you don't budge. A direct divination. One of the powers of an Archangel, fallen or otherwise, is to show possible futures to those who we are talking to according to conversations we're having," Lucifer stated as he crossed his arms. Mab's expression finally shifted from that of a neutral gleam to a very, very slight frown.
"Do you really believe that I would be fooled by such a thing? I have seen your tricks before. This is nothing new. Your bluffs mean very little to me. I know that you will not act on your words. Now, if you are done, I believe this meeting is over. Unless you plan to give me your Dreadknight, then—"
"Augh! Fine! Fucking—" Lucifer cursed, snarling, snapping his fingers as the mirror disappeared. "Fine. You can have her. But I have limitations."
"Oh?"
"Limit 1: She is not to become your underling, meaning that she is not yours. You are merely borrowing her when she is in your world, and she can come and go as she pleases. Her, along with anyone who she brings along with her. Limit 2: She serves me over anyone else. If I deny a command given by you, she will take my word over yours 100% of the time. Limit 3: She does not have to abide by the Unseelie Accords, as she is not of this world—and that's not my rule, that's The Almighty's Rule, and unless you want his wrath, you will abide by that. Got it?" As Lucifer listed his rules, he rose a finger for each of them.
Mab's expression did not change, like usual, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "You are a shrewd businessman, Lucifer Morningstar. While that third rule of yours would typically be unacceptable, even I cannot ignore the words of The Almighty. I accept these terms. In return, she can hunt whoever she desires, but I expect The Denarians to be gone."
"You're not going to impose a time limit?" Lucifer questioned as Mab's expression returned to pure neutrality.
"No. Time limits bring about sloppy work. Besides, The Denarians are not as big of an issue as something like The Outsiders. As long as the work is done, then I am pleased. Now. Leave Arctis Tor. You are not welcome here."
In a blaze of hellfire, Lucifer vanished, taking his unsightly throne with him. And once more, Mab was left in her tranquil cold. Just as she liked it.
-Book One – End-