In remembrance of one race, the deliberations began and for the first time in the scope of an eternity, the doors of heaven welcomed the scholars of hell to sit at their holy table, to converse on a solution that could change the destructive history that was to come – for them all. Words were spoken and ideas offered from both sides, but it was Malachi in the end who presented a simple union of the royal blood from each side that won the quorum those many years ago. And so it was set in the book of the life that the princess of God’s left hand would join her spirit with the prince of the devil’s right and together they would bring about a paradigm shift that would lay cracks in the foundation of what was to come and forever change tomorrow’s tomorrow.

“You do realize that Gabriel will never agree to this, do you not?” The loud voice wrapped tightly around the smaller man, his long white fingers incessantly smoothing his thick multi-colored brow as his eyes shifted slightly to the larger angel.

“I’m not giving him a choice. I was given authority by the Master to offer up any solution that I must in order to change the ending of existence as we all understand it to occur. He would’ve allowed me to send anyone or do anything… this isn’t a choice. It’s a sacrifice that we’re making. Period.” Malachi’s voice was tight with angst as he was old friends with the left hand of God and knew this wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit.

His companion stopped as they approached the great hall, the white pillars rising far above them and lifting deep into the recess of the clouds. Malachi stopped as well and turned to Nathaniel. “What? Are you not coming?”

“Absolutely not. You’re on your own with this one. Seraphine is his only daughter and his mate is dead. This is not going to be my plait to deliver the news, nor is it enjoyment for my eyes to witness. Do what you must, but do it in haste, old friend.” Nathaniel departed as Malachi turned toward the hall, his large chest moving with a slight tremble, his heart shuddering at the very thought of the next few moments and the decisions made that spun them into existence.

Chances are Seraphine would never come back home. Chances of her living through any of the decisions made and sacrifices offered were so equivocal and yet what chance did they really have but to extend their best, their brightest – the most loving and kind of their females for this union?

“May God have mercy on my soul,” Malachi whispered as he walked through the large alabaster doors, the warm winds of heaven reaching up to wrap his robe tightly around him and remind him that God in fact already did.

At the table sat seven figures on their respective, heavily ornate chairs. Half of the table was cast in a shadow so thick and deep and no one could see, hear or even smell anything in it. Not even the keenest nose nor the sharpest eye would be able to see into it, yet everybody in the room could feel a presence in it. A big presence. At the only visible head of the table, sat a male. Muscular enough to reach natural limits, and with a hood over his head, a hood that covered, in part, the charred black skull under it. With bright, flaming eyes, the male surveyed the six other beings present in the room. Each of the other demons was different, and he knew exactly who they were. He had to be careful.

"Zahlael." Spoke the first of the beings, an older-looking fat white man, wearing what seemed to be a very expensive-looking pallium of the most comfortable silk. The man looked directly at the hooded male as he spoke the name, keeping his stare consistent, and not moving a single inch. Seeing the expensive, comfortable silk over the man's form made Zahlael... Jealous, to some extent. It wasn't that he liked wearing such... Light clothing, it was just the fact that he had never really been allowed to wear them.

"Zahlael," Repeated a woman, sitting right next to the old man, as she stared at Zahlael in the same manner, "You've been chosen."

'Chosen for what?' Was Zahlael's first thought, outwardly just keeping eye contact with the western-looking young woman. She had beautiful blue eyes, he had to give her that. Then another male, this time an African man, with head shaved and eyebrows trimmed, spoke.

"You've been chosen, Zahlael, to become our emissary." He said with little to no emotion in his voice, following the trend set in by the others.

"To become our limbs." Said a woman, sitting in the most relaxed position Zahlael had probably ever seen.

"Our voice." Said the African man once more.

"Our fist." Said a greek phalanx harshly, leaning his body forward as he spoke, and forcefully hitting the thick table with his fists.

"You are to visit the Mortal Realm and fight for us. Fight against our enemy." Said the first to speak, the old fat man.

"Angels?" Asked Zahlael, looking at the man with barely apparent surprise- Angels were never spoken of in presence of Satan.

"No." Replied the old man, the thick shadow now slowly expanding towards Zahlael.

"You are now allowed to use your human form, Zahlael." Said the beautiful woman from before as she snapped her fingers and Zahlael felt his body shift and move around. When he touched his face, he felt facial hair. An untrimmed beard, eyes, nose...

"You are now allowed to do what you think best, Zahlael." Said the relaxed woman, snapping her fingers as well, and making Zahlael feel like a huge weight was just taken off his shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he felt like that. It was possible, too, that he had never quite felt like that.

"You are to report to Astab immediately, Zahlael. You are to find out the details of your task when it goes underway." The greek phalanx said.

"Lust." Said the beautiful woman.

"Sloth." Followed the relaxed woman.

"Gluttony." Said the old fat man.

"Wrath" Said the greek phalanx.

"Greed." Said the African man.

"Envy." Said the woman who did not speak a word during the whole meeting.

One by one, they disappeared. As soon as they had mentioned their names, they were gone. By this time, the thick shadow brushed against Zahlael's feet, and he accepted it without any second doubt. Whispers were heard in his mind, whispers that muttered unintelligible words that communicated feelings understandable by everyone. Zahlael could not help the nod that followed the whispers.

And just like that, he found himself in front of Astab's tower.

The sound of her voice brought him very little comfort, Gabriel hunched over his study, his eyes concentrating on the possibilities of the union that had been laid before him as a decree. No choice given and yet he knew that he'd not deny God anything, even his only child. He looked up at the beautiful young woman, her long blonde hair moving about her as if it held a life of it's own. He missed the meaning in her utterances, only hearing the timbre of melancholy and yet resolution for completing this task given her. She was her father's daughter if nothing else. His large fingers twirled into the silky trestles as he stood and drew her close to him, wrapping her in a tight hug and kissing the top of her head so carefully. She smelled of spring and roses, grace and hope.

"Father..." Sera moved back and looked up, her violent gaze reminding him so much of her mother. "I said that I'll be fine and when this is over I will return and we'll be back together. Trust me."

A sad smile rushed across his face as he nodded and let himself have one more good look at her, the sound of Malachi clearing his throat brought a growl to Gabriel's lips. Sera patted her fathers arm and gave him one more hug before turning to join their old friend and saying goodbye softly. Her father stood as a statue, his glory and radiance almost blinding as his emotions ran high. Sera wrapped her arm around Malachi's and walked from the house, both of them sighing in relief as they cleared the long strand of golden stairs.

After moving past her fathers property Nathaniel appeared to them, leaning comfortable against a tree though concern filling his knowing gaze, and anger lined his brow.

“I’ll be fine. I’m stronger than you all think, you know?” Seraphi smiled, her voice carrying to her old friend.

“I’m well aware of your strengths, little dove. It’s because of those - your brilliance and your beauty that you’ve been chosen to represent us.” He spoke softly, though she hardly noticed how out of place it was for a warrior of God’s great army to do.

“Where are we going now?” She straightened her shoulders and looked to Malachi as Nathan moved in on the other side of her, her father's gaze still on her from the window in his study.

“There is a portal that will be opened just above the earth and yet below the heavens. We are to meet the others there and then a ceremony will take place and you’ll both be deported to the surface of earth. Where exactly, will be of your choosing.” He took her hand and smiled down at her warmly as they walked from the house into the majesty of the heaven’s, the sun’s rays touching their white skin as the clouds parted and they quickly descended through the portal and onto a dusty grey substance. "Here we will have the joining ceremony."

She felt a stab of fear in her chest, "What is that exactly?"

"Patience, Sera."

The ground was solid enough to hold them and yet there was nothing but void around them. The three of them were the only color or shape given to the plane until a tear occurred in the air and several more joined them, but Seraphi knew they were not made of the same essence. Her purity was almost blinding to them and their hate was almost stinging to her. The essence of the scene before them changed, grass growing beneath her feet and a the essence of fall showing upon half of the tree of life that sat on heaven's domain, the other half dead and filled with thorns.

She moved behind Nathaniel unconsciously so and pressed her forehead to his back. “I can do this…” she whispered, but felt quite unsure if she were comforting the large angel in front of her – or herself.

The Tower of Astab.

A place very few got to hear about, and even less got to see. Zahlael was one of the rare individuals who'd been given permission to enter it and speak with the very strange Tower Keeper, Astab, an ancient Demon female who's believed to have been around since the Lord's rise. He could taste the thick, bittersweet air that surrounded the whole Tower as he walked closer to it. He could listen to the distant, permanent whispers of the lost. He could smell the burning flesh of the damned and see blurry faces in the wind. This place was symbolic to its very core, and Zahlael hated it.

Ignoring his growing annoyance, Zahlael stood in front of the Tower's plain door, an old, slightly rotten, completely undecorated door, with only a metal ring to use as an aid at knocking. And so he knocked, and waited. He waited for six minutes, before knocking again. And after a brief moment, the door simply opened on its own, hinges whining loudly at the sudden movement. They hadn't had to move in the last thousand years, after all.

"Astab, Tower Keeper, I, Zahlael, have been sent here by the High Demons to begin my task."

At such words, the door closed behind him, and a very old woman, at least three meters tall, but standing at two meters because of her extremely hunched over back, phased her way through a way and over to Zahlael's face. Her face was a mess, with sagging flesh everywhere and sunken eye sockets housing her two beady black eyes. Eyebrows and eyelashes seemed to have fallen off long ago, and her curly hair was thin and scarce enough that she seemed to be a very old bad quality mop.

The woman, Astab as Zahlael presumed, slowly inspected his face, making small pauses once she finally reached his eyes, and seemed to stare deep into them, with a piercing glare that would have given a mortal the desire to crawl out of existence. Yet Zahlael was no mortal, and was accustomed to such stares. They were common in Hell, after all.

"I see your path has not yet reached a stalemate. That is why they chose you, Zahlael, you must... Give us your loyalty, Zahlael." She said slowly, with a ragged voice before she turned around and walked over to the old, dusty couch and sat down on it, with some difficulty. Zahlael followed and sat down besides her, staring at the stone brick wall in front of them.

"The Lord already has my loyalty, Astab." Zahlael said with a raised eyebrow.

"That's... Acceptable, Zahlael." She said, before outstretching her arm towards the wall, and a vial of clear liquid was pulled right through the solid surface. Once in her hands, Astab gave Zahlael the vial, nodding and not once looking at him. "Drink it. It will hurt, and might destroy you."

Zahlael nodded, inwardly groaning and growing impatient at the slow pace Astab seemed to do things. Once the vial was in his hands, he quickly opened it and downed its contents... And immediately, a heavy burning sensation took over, and his throat felt like he had just downed a shot of live magma combined with the sweat of Cerberus himself. The feeling was so intense, that he fell off the couch and onto his knees, coughing violently and gasping for air. Suddenly, his vision became blurry, and he couldn't quite focus. For a moment, he thought he'd see the darkness throw its blanket over his soul, but when the pain and burning and dizziness started to wear off, he was relieved.

"W... What was that?" He asked through gasps as he attempted to get back up.

"Holy Water."

"What?!"

"Holy Water, drinking it will either wither you away, or permanently increase your tolerance to all things Holy."

"... That was the worst thing I've ever had to drink." Zahlael said, standing up and wincing, as his throat still hurt quite a bit.

"No matter. Now go to the Tree of Damnation, there, two brothers will aid you in your task."

"I still don't know what my task is, Astab."

"You'll know when it starts, Zahlael. This task will require all of your strength, intelligence, wits and even faith."

In natural form, the demons represented the very essence of restricted evil, their skin tight along the robust muscles that ran along every inch exposed. They clothed themselves in very little, their look of defiance causing even the strongest of will to look away in fear or disgust, perhaps at times a mixture of both. Sera moved from behind her father's closest friend and set in place a facade that would assist her in gaining victory in the task assigned her, or be the very cause of her fall. She knew the male demon that she'd be paired with would be malicious and violent, she only hoped that part of the accordance in their working as partners meant that he'd play fair in their dealings.

This task was not a competition between heaven and hell, but against something neither had much experience with - a principality of earth itself, spawn from emotion and apathy. How they would deal with their enemy was a different concern than the one that sat upon her heart at the moment - how they might actually deal with one another.

She was not chosen for the task because she was weak or overly kind and caring, but because she possessed the strength of a warrior and the intellect of a scholar, her father God's left hand man namely because of the same traits that had befallen her. Nathaniel knew better than to comfort or speak to her in the presence of the demons, but time was of the essence. Her counterpart had yet to show and her escorts huddled around her to offer a bit more support and guidance before the moment came that would forever separate them. The only portion of the assignment that would be clouded in darkness to both parties would be the very fact that they could never return home and earth would then become their resting place for the remainder of eternity. That was a sacrifice God and his nemesis were willing to make and yet no one had or would divulge that information to the travelers.

Sara turned a bit as Nathaniel and Malachi moved in closer, a look of calm resolution on her lovely features as she squared her shoulders a bit more and let her eyebrow raise in curiosity. "What..."

Malachi cleared his throat, his ivory hand covering his mouth for a moment as crystal blue eye bore into her. She repeated her question once more with a bit more attitude and he finally broke the intensity of the silence.

"You should be aware that once the joining ceremony happens that you and the demon will be one." He looked to Nathaniel as if the other guardian might want to add something to that.

"What exactly do you mean - one? Like two become one in holy matrimony?" Sara felt her chest tighten as the very thought of sharing anything with evil incarnate.

"Not exactly. The joining is a blood letting ceremony, so there will be a part where you will share blood." Malachi spoke quickly with a timid tone.

"Share blood? Why in the world would we need to do something so vile?" She felt her cheeks coloring, the earth moving as others joined them. Neither she nor Malachi looked away as Nathaniel turned to speak with the guardian that would conduct the ceremony.

"Because it is necessary to tie you to one another so that you will have one heart and mind in fixing this devastation that has befallen us. You will still be you and he will still be very much himself, but evil will invade your spirit and goodness will invade his. It's painful and quite uncomfortable, but there is a sense of peace that you'll not understand that befalls you when the two of you are together and moving in harmony. It's part of the design."

"I don't und.." She was cut off my Nathaniel who touched her shoulder and whispered that the time was drawing near.