Aisling felt every fiber of her being screaming at her to run, to put as much distance as possible between herself and the imposing demon who had just made his entrance. But the two serpent-women, their long, scaly tails undulating with a hypnotic sinuosity, blocked her path, their cruel amusement painted on their faces. Their forked tongues hissed mockingly, their multiple eyes gleaming with perverse satisfaction.
Gritting her teeth, she drew her dagger, raising it with determination toward the two creatures while keeping an eye on the immense Infernal Lord. Samael watched her, his mouth twisted into an expression that was both contemptuous and entertained, as if he were witnessing a comedic scene.
"Step back… now!" she commanded firmly, despite the fear knotting her stomach.
The echo of her words seemed to ring uselessly through the space. Samael, amused, let a faint smile curl his lips.
"Oh… She's a feisty one…" he rumbled, eliciting mocking laughter from the two demonesses.
Aisling tightened her grip on the dagger, slowly stepping back. She was trying to defend herself as much with her words as with her weapon, her gaze darting between the two serpent-women and the colossal demon.
"I have done you no harm and wish you none," she declared in a voice she tried to keep steady, though her chest rose and fell rapidly with her breath. "I only want to pass through and leave this place… Let me go."
She dared to lift her eyes to Samael, meeting the demon's gaze, glowing like burning embers. He responded with a lazy sneer and, without a word, turned away. He went to sit on a pile of ruins that oddly resembled an improvised throne. From there, he observed her indifferently and made a vague gesture toward the serpent-women. The two creatures leaped simultaneously.
The first had no trouble lunging at Nimue, violently tearing her away from Aisling. The small specter let out a scream of terror as the scaly tail coiled around her, completely immobilizing her. Aisling, on the other hand, barely managed to react in time, instinctively springing backward, narrowly evading the second demoness. She landed with surprising agility, her body instinctively adopting the postures that War and Uriel had drilled into her during their brutal training sessions.
For the first time, she sensed the next strike before it came and didn't let herself be caught off guard. When the demoness lunged at her again, Aisling reacted with unexpected precision. She deflected the attack and, pivoting, struck with a violent and precise dagger thrust. The blade tore through the scaly flesh at the creature's wrist, releasing a flood of thick, black blood. The demoness let out a piercing shriek of pain and rage, recoiling into herself in an uncontrollable spasm.
With a powerful sweep of her serpentine tail, she struck Aisling down, sending her crashing onto her back, the air knocked from her lungs. Before she could rise, the creature slithered swiftly over her, pinning her down with her full weight. A clawed hand seized Aisling's collar, forcing her to lift her gaze to meet the demoness's furious face. The creature's hissing maw was only inches from hers, and the stench of her foul breath assaulted Aisling's senses.
With a cry of rage, Aisling raised her dagger to attempt another attack, but the creature's tail, agile and swift, coiled around her wrist in a brutal movement. The pressure was so intense that she felt her hand go numb, pain tearing a cry from her throat. The blade slipped from her grasp and fell, vanishing into the void beyond the platform.
That only fueled Aisling's fury further. Ignoring the pain and the vice-like grip that held her captive, she struggled violently. With her free hand, she struck with all her strength, deliberately aiming for the demoness's menacing snout. Her fist connected with the reptilian muzzle in a sharp impact, accompanied by a raw, defiant cry. The serpent-woman, her face contorted with cold hatred, pressed her scaly forearm against Aisling's throat, pinning her head in a painful position. The crushing pressure on her windpipe forced out ragged gasps, each breath becoming a battle.
"Anger is an interesting weapon, young human… provided you know how to wield it," rumbled Samael's deep, thunderous voice from his makeshift stone throne.
Burning embers escaped his mouth with each word, illuminating his fangs like molten coals in an infernal forge. His massive head rested lazily in the palm of his hand, elbow propped against his thigh. A few steps away, Nimue, still trapped in the coils of the second demoness, struggled weakly, her panic palpable.
"Leave her alone, my lord!" she pleaded, her voice trembling with terror, her eyes shining with a visceral fear in the face of Samael's overwhelming presence. "We never meant you any harm. We don't even know where we are!"
Samael turned his head slightly toward her, his glowing red eyes brimming with icy contempt.
"Hm… Your words hold little weight here, scum," he spat the last word like venom. "You may have broken your chains and earned a few scars, but a slave you were, and a slave you shall remain. I am certain the Council would be most delighted to have a little… discussion with you."
"Don't touch her!" Aisling growled, a hoarse snarl in her voice despite the pressure on her throat.
Her eyes burned with fury, crackling with defiance. Her anger, raw and unyielding, was all she had left, and she clung to it like a weapon. Samael, far from being angered, let out a low, guttural laugh, his rumbling voice echoing like a distant avalanche.
"Fear not, human. I have little respect for the Council… even less so now. And believe me, I have better things to do than waste my time reporting a runaway slave or a human carrying a treasure."
He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, and the serpent-woman finally loosened her grip on Aisling. Reluctantly, she stepped back slowly, her eyes still burning with fury as she watched the young woman. Freed at last, Aisling rolled onto her side and pushed herself up as quickly as she could, her throat aching. Her head swam slightly from the lack of air, and she brought a trembling hand to her neck, trying to soothe the burning sensation. She lifted a gaze full of rage and defiance toward Samael.
"That wasn't necessary," she spat, her voice still hoarse.
"Oh, my sincerest apologies," the demon's lips curled into a sarcastic smile, his tone dripping with cutting humor. "Emerging from exile, were you expecting the universe to be kind and compassionate?"
"No… but at least wise," Aisling shot back, sharp despite the pain.
Her response seemed to please Samael. A genuine smile spread across his infernal face, revealing gleaming fangs. He tilted his head slightly, observing her with renewed interest, like a collector discovering a rare artifact.
"Come closer," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for hesitation.
Aisling remained frozen for a moment, her instincts screaming at her not to obey. But her options were limited. Slowly, she took one step, then another, stopping at a cautious distance from his stone throne.
"You are lost, little one," Samael said, scrutinizing her. "You managed to outrun the Horseman and the Angel…"
"How do you know…?" Aisling began, but he raised a hand to silence her.
"I know. That is all you need to understand. Just as I know what you carry… and what you seek."
Aisling swallowed hard, her gaze searching for any hint of intent behind the demon's words.
"Are you here to stop me?" she finally asked, her voice measured but still wary.
Samael let out a thunderous laugh, the deep sound echoing through the empty space.
"Why would I?" he replied, amused by what he seemed to consider her ignorance.
"I was under the impression that demons and angels had planned a universal war to fight over the Earth…"
"That is true. But your little stone holds little interest for me. In fact…" He straightened slightly, a strange glint in his burning gaze. "I believe we can help each other, little thing."
Samael leaned forward, and the infernal heat radiating from his body hit her like a wave. Aisling resisted the urge to step back, her eyes almost stinging from the intensity of the scorching air surrounding her. She cast a quick glance at Nimue, who was still trapped in the scaly coils of the serpent-woman.
"Let her go first."
A mocking smile spread across Samael's lips, his fangs gleaming under the reddish glow of the place.
"I doubt you are in any position to negotiate…"
Aisling took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm despite the burning weight of anger seething within her. She lifted her chin, her gaze locked onto the Infernal Lord with cold determination.
"You are the one proposing an alliance, aren't you?"
The glimmer in Samael's fiery eyes grew more intense, almost amused. He seemed to savor every defiant word she threw at him, but Aisling wasn't fooled—this tolerance had its limits, and she knew that one wrong move could be fatal.
With a careless flick of his hand, he gestured for the serpent-women to withdraw. The demoness holding Nimue leaned in one last time toward her prey, tightening her coils one final time, drawing a barely contained whimper of pain. Then, with a cruel laugh, she released Nimue and slithered back, hissing. The two creatures vanished into the shadows, their sinister laughter still echoing in the heavy air.
Finally freed, Nimue rushed toward Aisling, trembling. She clung to her arm as if it were an anchor, but Aisling had no time to comfort her. Her eyes were already locked onto Samael.
"There you go, human. Satisfied?" he asked mockingly, his lips curling into a sarcastic smile.
"Why would you want to help me?" Aisling didn't falter, firing back instantly, her tone sharp and wary. "I don't believe demons are known for their overwhelming generosity."
Samael's smile widened, revealing all the cruelty that radiated from his presence.
"I know how to recognize a thirst for vengeance when I see one, human. And that, I respect."
Those words struck a painful chord within her.
"You are mistaken…" she began, but her voice lacked conviction.
"Really?" Samael sank deeper into his throne, his piercing eyes never leaving Aisling. "That would be quite understandable, though. Here you are, back on humanity's homeworld, a land reduced to a carcass fought over by vultures and hyenas. Humans are hunted. Your refuge? Destroyed. And before you ask…"
He lifted a finger to emphasize his point, an ironic glint shining in his gaze.
"No, I had nothing to do with it."
"You seem devilishly well-informed, though," Aisling shot back, more to contain her frustration than to make a real accusation.
The demon lord let out a deep, resonant laugh, like the rumbling of a volcano.
"I have little interest in humanity. At best, they are… entertaining. But you…" He let the silence stretch, laden with meaning, before continuing. "You, on the other hand, have every reason in the world to seek vengeance against those who wronged you, don't you?"
Samael's words burrowed into Aisling's mind. She wanted to reject them, but they resonated too deeply. Images of desolate ruins surfaced in her memory—remnants of a once-great civilization, now reduced to dust. She saw the walking corpses, those grotesque echoes of a forgotten humanity, abandoned to their fate by both Heaven and Hell.
Even the figures of War and Uriel, beings who proclaimed noble ideals, suddenly seemed hypocritical to her. Their so-called justice had saved neither this world nor its people. A slow-burning rage, fed by injustice and frustration, rose within her—sharper and hotter than ever. And for that… wasn't he right?
Aisling clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She lifted a dark, determined gaze toward Samael, her features hardened by newfound resolve.
"What are you proposing?"
Samael, satisfied, tilted his head forward slightly, a predatory smile spreading across his face.
"Now that is a real question," he murmured, his tone laced with a dangerous promise.
His blazing eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam in his gaze as he studied Aisling with calculating interest.
"I know what you seek, human: the Essence of Fire. A force powerful, untamed… dangerous. The angels tried to claim it. They believe they have succeeded."
Aisling, her eyes locked onto him, furrowed her brow slightly.
"You're talking about that fortress suspended over the crater…"
"Yes, the Burning Lakes," Samael slowly nodded, a mocking smile brushing his lips. "They located the Essence of Fire, chained it, desperate to bend it to their will and use it in the battle to come. But those fools have no idea what they are playing with."
Aisling remained silent, absorbing his words. Samael savored the attention she gave him before continuing.
"But I do. And I only play when I am certain to win."
He flashed a predatory grin, revealing a row of razor-sharp fangs. Slowly, he rose from his stone throne. His towering silhouette and the shadow of his unfurled wings swallowed Aisling in oppressive darkness.
"To keep the Fire under their control, the angels used an ancient and powerful artifact: the Collar of Yurba. A unique chain, capable of bending any entity it imprisons to its will."
At these words, an image forced itself into Aisling's mind: the immense chain she had glimpsed, descending from the celestial fortress down to one of the lava lakes below. Samael's voice rumbled as he continued.
"But Fire is not some mere creature of the Abyss that can be chained without consequence. It obeys no one. The Collar, at best, simply prevents its fury from further ravaging this world. Yet it remains enraged, boiling in its prison, impatiently awaiting the moment of its release. However… it is possible that it may be drawn to the burning heat of your vengeance. Since it is bound, it needs someone to carry its wrath."
A cold shiver ran down Aisling's spine.
"Is that what you want me to do?" she asked, uncertain of his intentions.
Samael leaned slightly forward, a mischievous spark in his smoldering gaze.
"What you do matters little to me," he tilted his head, his words rolling out with an eerie calm. "What I want is the Collar."
"And in exchange?"
Aisling narrowed her eyes, suspicion clear in her gaze. She crossed her arms, watching Samael as if he were a serpent poised to strike. The demon let out a low, rumbling laugh that echoed through the ruins around them. He tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his fiery eyes.
"Information," he made a sweeping gesture, as if to emphasize the significance of his words. "You will soon learn that it is the greatest weapon one can possess. For instance, I can tell you that the angels, in all their arrogance, are entirely lost. They toil to subdue an element as unpredictable as Fire, hoping to chain it and bend it to their will. A foolish endeavor."
"But you… you know how to control it?"
Samael shook his head, his smile widening, revealing his fangs.
"No, not control it, little one. Let it guide you instead of trying to enslave it. Let the fire burn. And if this first collaboration proves fruitful, perhaps we will consider further exchanges in the future."
"And I'm supposed to trust you with all this?" she shot back, her words laced with restrained anger.
Samael burst into a deep, mocking laugh, rough and resonant.
"Do you really think you can dive into the intrigues of the universe and come out untainted, human?" He scrutinized her for a moment, his tone turning more serious. "Everything has a price. The only question that matters is what you're willing to pay. But after all, you're still just a child… and what is it that makes a child a woman, hmm? So..."
He extended his massive, clawed hand toward her, encased in sleek black metal.
"Do we have a deal?"
Aisling remained motionless, her mind in turmoil. The last time she had made a bargain, it had resulted in the crushing responsibility of harboring the seed of an entire world within her chest. What could be worse? murmured a voice in her head, stoked by the burning anger still pulsing through her veins. Nimue remained frozen against her, wisely staying silent.
With only a moment's hesitation, she finally placed her hand in Samael's, his massive grip capable of crushing her effortlessly. But he merely closed his fingers around hers in a firm yet measured clasp, a predatory smile on his lips. With slow, theatrical movements, he gestured toward a nearby platform bathed in a sinister glow.
"Take one of the Serpent Holes. It will return you to where you came from. I brought you here the first time, but you'll have to come back on your own. I'll be waiting here, in the Void between worlds."
"And if I can't find you?"
"I will find you."
Aisling clenched her jaw, giving a brief nod before stepping toward the platform of engraved stones, identical to the one that had brought her here. Just before stepping onto it, she turned back to Samael, her brows furrowed. A question burned on her lips, and she couldn't leave without asking it.
"The strange man in the top hat… was he part of your welcoming committee too?"
Samael tilted his head slightly to the side, a motion that seemed almost curious but did nothing to diminish his overwhelming presence.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, young human. There are many creatures that lurk in the Void, taking advantage of its secrets."
Aisling gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to argue. He could be lying, she thought, but she couldn't see what reason he would have to do so. Still, she kept her doubts to herself.
"Nimue," she signaled to her companion, who vanished into the ring in a flicker of dim light.
She stepped onto the platform, turning one last time to face Samael.
"I will return with the chain. But you know more than you're letting on, Lord Samael. You and I… we will have another conversation."
A deep, rumbling laugh echoed through the space, as oppressive as the shadows of the ruins around them. Samael flashed her a wide, carnivorous grin, his fangs gleaming, clearly entertained by the audacity of this fragile human who dared to challenge him, even indirectly.
"You're starting to play by the universe's rules, little one. Good." His eyes gleamed with a dark glint as his smile twisted slightly, almost taunting. "But remember… sometimes, the hero dies in the end."