I’ve been to the entrance of hell and the outer ring, but never deep enough to truly understand the depth and the darkness that is hell. After we stepped through the tear Blackie, I mean Babaris, opened, it was as if my eyes had been plucked from my head. Like I would never see again. There was no light here. Not even a single glow from a cloud cover star could be seen.

          For the first time in over a millennia, I felt a glimmer of fear.

          A hand grasped my own, and I finally saw some sort of light, a faint green glow from his eyes.

          “Why are your eyes glowing now but were when we were in the human realm?”

          “They weren’t glowing in the human realm? It must have been too bright.” I felt him shrug before he pulled me along.

          Never, ever, will I tell him how relieved I was when he clasped my hand.

          I kept expecting my eyes to adjust, but they never did. Black as thick as my husband’s lemonade clung to my eyes much like the lemonade clung to the glass. Eventually we had to melt it down and tried to reuse it as a brick, but it was too hard. So, we made it into a heart plate for my third child’s armor.

          We later found it several thousand miles away, completely intact. And glowing, but we don't talk about that.

          Since I was unable to see, I started to listen. I could hear far more now that I was actually focusing on it. Demons were yelling at each other in the distance, fights were breaking out. I could even hear his heartbeat, far slower than any angel’s. It took me a while to realize it was a heartbeat. Surprisingly, it was a comfortable sound.

          Green light peered into my eyes, startling my poor old heart half to death. His forehead touched my mine and the hand that had been leading me cradled jaw while the other one did the same on the other side of my face. A breeze swept by as I felt his wings wrap loosely past me without touching me.

          A demon wandered by, with footsteps I hadn’t even heard until they were next to us. They didn’t stop but continued since Babaris had reacted before they caught sight of me.

          He was warm. How long had it been since someone touched me? Even holding hands was something I hadn’t done in so many years, even centuries. The only warmth I knew was fresh blood on a battlefield, but even that had gone cold over time. I leaned into that warmth, even for a moment longer. His eyes never left mine. Reluctance from both ends caused this embrace to last longer than it probably should have.

          We parted without a word and his hand reclaimed its grip on mine. He walked faster to make up for lost time, but not enough to draw attention. Nimbly we wove around things I could not see, presumably abandoned roads where few roamed. We soon came to what felt like a really big place.

          “This is it.”

          When we were inside, he snapped his fingers and a soft fire burned in a fireplace, finally allowing me to see.

          “Lovely home.” I looked around, impressed.

          “Thank you.”

          There were no windows, the furniture was red and black, and it was a small, private room.

          “I felt like it would be bigger.”

          “My main palace is, but I don’t like having people around me. This is where I actually lived and had guests stay in the main house. I keep everything important here.”

          “Which one are we burning to the ground? Or is it both? Oooo I hope it’s both!”

          I could see the debate in his eyes between amusement and helplessness. My eyes crinkled, narrowing my vision as I chuckled at his face. He cracked and started to chuckle with me.

          “The brighter the fire, the easier we can escape, so we can do both.” He gave me a lopsided wry smile. “Come, they’re over here.”

          He led me into what I could guess was his trophy room, filled with weapons. Most were angelic weapons, but a few were demonic. There were only about twenty, far less than I expected from a man who had fought in the war from the beginning like I had. My trophy room had hundreds of items, not just weapons either.

          In the center, clearly separate from the others, were two blades I knew well. They were the center pieces. I walked up to touch them. One was a halberd and the other a sword. My daughter’s and my son’s, respectively.

          “You’ve taken good care of them.”

          “They were the greatest warriors I’ve ever fought. Not necessarily the strongest, but definitely the greatest. If I had relaxed, or shown even a hint of hesitation, I would be dead. Even facing their deaths, their eyes never wavered.” He chuckled sadly at the memory, “I still remember their last words, ‘Better to face death head on than to wait and suffer slowly.”

          I choked, “That was their last words? Both of them?”

          “Yes, I remember distinctly…” He gently patted my shaking shoulder, as if to comfort me.

          “Those little brats…” I broke down laughing.

          “…I feel like I’m missing something.”

          “That’s- oh that’s- when my husband would cook-” I took a deep breath, and felt tears threaten my eyes, “Oh, that’s just like them…ha… they would say that every time he cooked. My dears, they were certain that if they didn’t eat the food it would rot and create a poison gas that would kill them in their sleep. Naturally, we managed to air out the house in time, but they did like their dramatics.”

          “…Would we have time to dig up a couple of graves in heaven?”