“If I knew then what I know now... Oh shit, I think I did.”

-The Prophet of Chaos

“If I had met you when I was younger,” she said, taking a beat to think it through before speaking, “I would have gravitated towards you so quickly. Your kindness and confusion would have drawn me in like a moth to a flame and I would have given you my whole heart without fear,” she told him, a hint of a smile tugging the corner of her mouth, making him wish she would turn so he could see it full on. “I would have been nervous. Probably squeaked out a hello then clammed up in embarrassment,” she said with a slight chuckle. “But,” she continued, taking a deep breath, “I would have been determined to at least try. I would have given you one of the paper flowers I used to make just so I could memorize your face as you looked at it. Burned that memory deep into my mind and overlaid it with every image of you thereafter. I would have loved you completely without restraint. But that’s just how I was back then,” she finished and her smile turned bittersweet.

She hadn’t looked at him once since she’d started to answer, instead keeping her eyes forward towards the setting sun. Most people, when he asked them to imagine something, closed their eyes in order to picture it. But she kept her focus on the world around her, speaking the words from her heart with the confidence of knowing for sure. It didn’t sound like pretty words spoken coyly to play on his emotions. It wasn’t a speech she’d prepared ahead of time. It was a statement of truth as she saw it written in the books of the gods, but it held the pain of a life never lived.

“And now?” he asked, looking up at her profile as she watched the waves, seeing a world he couldn’t imagine. He had no idea who she was, where she came from, or why she was there. All he knew was that he’d missed her with an ache that stole his breath away.

“Now, I’ve turned toxic,” she said and he felt the weight of the pain she kept at bay. The sadness in her grew and it made his chest tighten as she withdrew her light from the world. “I’ve lost my way. Diving into the Abyss headlong with the misguided notion that, if you can’t get out of it, you have to break through to find your way back. But I was in there too long to believe in things like true love anymore. Even though a part of me still wants to,” she said, finally looking at him.

She tried to smile but it was heartbreaking. It was practiced and sweet, but it didn’t touch her eyes in the slightest. There was no joy, no madness in it. Just a quiet resignation. She’d made peace with being alone like he had, but she wasn’t a being meant for that kind of life. The toxicity she’d claimed didn’t come from her nature; it came from the loneliness building inside her. She let the smile go and took a breath, looking at him with an expression of sympathy he didn’t understand.

“You’ve got that look on your face,” she said with a mirthless chuckle.

“What look?” he asked.

“That look that says my Haunted One background is kicking in,” she said, shaking her head as she pushed up from her perch beside him on the back of the bench he was sitting on. “So, before I make things any worse for myself,” she declared as she stepped down from the bench and turned to face him, her bravado returning as she gave him a flourishing bow. “I am going to say goodnight, sir.” She stood straight again, her hands finding her pockets as she spoke. “Thank you for wandering through so many meandering thoughts and weaving so many beautiful tapestries with me. I will cherish them for the rest of my days and I hope someday you’ll find what you were looking for.”

With that, she dipped her head in respect once more, turned on her heel, and left. He watched her go with his mind spinning. He didn’t even know her name. She’d never introduced herself properly.

She’d just walked up to him and explained that she was a bit lost and she was approaching him because she knew that she could trust him not to think she was crazy. She was strange, to be sure, but in a way that made him curious. So, he’d asked her where she was going and she’d said that she had no idea. The way she’d said it made him feel like she was on a hell of a ride, but she was enjoying every second of it.

“Dude, I’ll tell you what,” she’d said like a veteran gearing up for a good story and then shook her head. “If I knew where I was going, I’d be there already. Trust me,” she’d said and let out a breath. “But, for right now I’m just following my intuition to see where it leads. And it’s strange. I’ve always felt like I was late for something, rushing around to find where I belong. But today, I followed my instincts for the first time in over a decade and it led me to you almost immediately. And, after running for so long, I feel like taking a walk. Not a rush. Just a wander. I’m new to the city and I’ve been too afraid to wander alone. I tend to get lost easily if I haven’t learned enough landmarks. Know where I can find a tour guide to keep me company?”

She'd given him a small smile that lit up her face in a way no toothy grin ever could and he couldn’t help the tug at the corner of his mouth in response. When she’d put her hands in her pockets and looked down for a second, he’d felt a tug that didn’t make sense. When she’d looked up again, the smile was still there but her eyes looked a little harder. She was bracing herself for instant rejection but she was keeping her composure like a pro. He had so many things to do that day but something told him to just say fuck it. So, he did, and they’d wandered.

He told her about the city and she told him the stories of where she’d been and the things that she’d seen. Most of it was in her head where it seemed like she lived. But the tangents she’d chased were fascinating. She’d deconstructed and analyzed every piece of herself and her timeline to see if she could find the point where everything went sideways. In the process, she’d noticed patterns she didn’t know how to explain. She’d come to the city primarily to research magic in the hopes of figuring out what it all meant, but there was something more just below the surface. He got the feeling she knew much more about what she’d been researching than she’d let on, but she was still too afraid to tell him everything.

When he’d asked her why she chose his beloved city, she’d shrugged and looked away. After a few moments, she’d explained her logic in a way that told him more than what her words actually said, “It just felt right, I guess.”

When they’d managed to wander all the way to the shore and found a bench to rest on, they’d watched the sunset together. They’d spoken about things that reminded him of when he was younger, lost in his own ways, all the way back to the beginning where he’d looked at his life and wondered about if they’d met back then. She’d spun out a few theories that made him laugh and made him realize that she understood a lot more than she could see in the moments it took to form those theories. As he watched her retreating figure with her hands stuffed in her pockets and her head down, he knew, if he didn’t stop her, she was going to get lost.

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Day 1, Gehenna Stronghold:

“What’s that?” Lucifer asked, breaking her concentration. Staring at the parchment for so long had left a phantom image of her handwriting burned into her retinas. Then again, she’d been staring at it without seeing it for almost an hour.

She’d been lost in a daze trying to picture a scene to write to get her brain going. Trying to stay on track with no direction or feedback made her wonder if she had a Gelatinous Cube in her skull instead of a brain. She was still feeling the residual effects of the Demon Trials she’d completed not long ago. She’d had seventy life lessons repeatedly bullied into her; mind, body, and soul. If she didn’t have someone to talk to, she couldn’t keep her thoughts in order long enough to get through a full storyline. If she was going to lean into being a Bard once she’d managed to get free, she needed to remember how to do her job. So, she’d run to the only place in existence she felt safe enough to let her mind wander into more beautiful places than she’d been.

Off and on for the last month, she’d been haunting Lucifer’s study in his stronghold in Gehenna, switching between laying in front of the fireplace and sitting in the bay window behind his desk. They didn’t talk much while he was working. Being the ruler of Gehenna was an intensive gig. But having him nearby when her thoughts sucked her in was comfort by itself. Sometimes, the pull of the damage left behind by past traumas started to spiral and she couldn’t breathe, much less speak, when the panic set in. With her Guardian Angel within arm's reach, though, she knew the danger wasn’t real.

He assured her, on several occasions, that the arrangement was mutually beneficial. She may not have been a master strategist or a political adviser, but her chaotic thoughts often gave him a new perspective. As he put it, they balanced each other out; the Ego and his Id.

Rolling onto her side on the blanket on the floor, she looked up and saw his sapphire eyes trained on the page she’d been scribbling on. His honey blond hair fell just past his shoulders in waves and he tucked it behind his ears as he looked down at her.

“I decided to try and write another book,” she said with a pinched expression as she finished rolling over and blew out a breath.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, causing the white fabric of his crisp shirt to stretch across his shoulders and biceps.

“No,” she admitted, looking away from his sharp features and keen eyes with a groan. “But it’s not because of the amount of work to be done.”

“I didn’t think it was,” he said easily.

He knew the places in her mind that held the most danger for her. Unfortunately, that was where her best stories were. She could write the fluff-filled with bright colors and happy endings like the ones she used to read as a kid before bed. But, to her, that’s all they were. Bedtime stories to chase the nightmares away. Stories like that always felt too hollow to her. They lacked the depth that made her think. However, as raw as she was, the prospect of diving into her own mind terrified her.

“Maybe I should just go back to working for the church,” she said, covering her face with her arm to block out the eye-roll she knew he would give her.

“You don’t mean that,” he said and she could hear the sound of him sitting down beside her.

“I know,” she replied without looking at him.

If she went back to the Church of Asmodeus and resumed her position as a full-time Prayer Agent, she’d get stuck in the cycle of making her life about other people’s needs instead of her own. She would, once again, hide away from the world and allow her job title to define her. She would forget who she was and the things she’d accomplished for an easier life of miserable safety.

“What’s it about?” he asked.

The sound of shuffling parchment made her move her arm to see him reading her writing.

“No fucking clue,” she said honestly. “Every time I catch a scene in my head and write it down, it doesn’t seem to fit anywhere.”

He frowned in thought as he looked over the loose pages before pausing with his brows furrowed in thought. Looking back at her, he reached to help her sit up and pulled her into his lap with her back to his chest. Once she was settled, he reached around her torso to layout the pages in a seemingly random order on the floor.

“I think I found the problem,” he said and she leaned back to look at him over her shoulder. “You don’t see it?” he asked, gesturing at the pages.

“All I see is evidence that I’m crazy,” she said honestly, making him growl in his throat a little.

“You’re writing in Deep Speech,” he said bluntly and she winced.

“Fucking Hells,” she grumbled and buried her face in her hands as she gritted her teeth.

“Close,” he said making her look at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re in the Abyss, remember?”

“No shit, really?” she asked sarcastically. “I thought this was the Feywild.”

“If it wasn’t for the fact that I could see you going for a walk and somehow ending up on another plane of existence because you got lost, that might be funny,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Actually,” she said, freezing as he stiffened, “if you remember correctly, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened,” she said, studiously ignoring his gaze.

“Ah, yes,” he said in a deep rumble as his arms closed around her and she felt the familiar warmth of his exasperated frustration. “I’d forgotten about your little trip to Nyarlathotep’s throne.”

“In my defense,” she said, her eyes wide even though she knew she wasn’t in danger from his ire, “I was left unsupervised.” He groaned a little into her shoulder and she felt him deflate as she reminded him that he was just as much to blame as her wanderlust for that little incident. “So, if I’m writing in Deep Speech,” she said, quickly changing the subject, “how in the name of all things unholy am I supposed to write a book fit for mass consumption?”

“Get a translator,” he said simply.

“I believe, in the literary field,” she said with a sardonic inflection, leaning forward to gather and straighten the pages into a pile, “that’s called an editor. Last I checked, editors that speak Deep Speech aren’t exactly easy to come by, let alone affordable on a budget of zero.”

“Either way,” he said, leaning into her and then rocking back. “I can help you with it.”

“Huh?” she asked, blinking a few times before looking at him with one eye squinted closed.

“I’ve been translating Deep Speech since,” he paused for a moment. “Well, since before I can remember,” he finished with a note of disbelief.

Lilly blinked and leaned back for a moment to let that sink in. Lucifer. King of Gehenna. The original Celestial and, arguably, the first god of the Dark Pantheon. He was probably sentient at the point of creation and he’d been translating Deep Speech since before he could remember.

Absolute euphoric relief washed through her as she realized she had help from a god at her disposal. If she’d been more ambitious, she might have tried to take over the world. As it stood, she was just happy she had someone who could translate her thoughts well enough to write another book after saying goodbye to her dreams of being a Bard instead of a Ranger. She’d completely disregarded that Lucifer was so much more than just her friend. They’d fallen into a routine at some point that made it easy to forget that he was, in truth, a deity. To her, he was just the pain in her ass that she couldn’t live without. But he wasn’t some uptight, Lawful Asshole, holier-than-thou cloud jockey like the rest of them. He was the Lord of Darkness, for fuck’s sake.

She mentally berated herself for a few moments for forgetting the gravity of her own situation before shifting around in his lap to face him. With her arms around his neck, she shifted her legs to wrap around his waist and held on for dear life as she started to break down in giggles.

“Oh shit,” he said as he hugged her tightly and tried not to laugh as well. “Did I break your brain with the absurdity again?”

“Yeah,” she wheezed, trying to calm herself down. “A little bit,” she added with a squeak and leaned back to look at him before turning her eyes to the ceiling. “What the fuck is my life?”

A slow, sly grin spread across his beautiful face, lending a delicious touch of sinister sexiness to his angelic features.

“I'd say it’s the makings of a damn good story,” he said with a challenge in his voice.

“Oh, fuck you,” she said in a low tone as her eyebrow twitched a little. He knew she hated the spotlight. She would much prefer to stay behind the scenes and write her stories in peace than stand on stage in front of all the judgmental stares and the pressure that came with it. But he also knew she couldn’t back down when he challenged her to do something that he knew she was capable of. “You are such an asshole.”

“Why?” he asked with mock innocence, holding onto her waist to keep her from getting up and pacing as she chewed on what he was saying.

“Because I know what you’re doing,” she said, letting go of his neck to cross her arms over her chest as she glared at him, her lips bunching to the side as her mind started to whir. After a few moments of silent contemplation, in which she studiously ignored his hands on her hips and the internal wailing of her inner hussy, she made a decision.

“Fuck it,” she said and he grinned.