Alexander stared at his reflection that beamed at him within the blade of a silver sword. His face hadn't changed a bit since he was alive. Still, that wasn't his focus. His focus was on the ability of the blade; its strengths and weaknesses.

He swung the blade in the air and judged its weight. Furcas spoke on the strength and beauty that came with a sword of UnderWorld Silver. The metal is found in mountains and is incredibly conducive to magic. Sometimes.

Other times, it explodes when braced with too much magic energy.

And so, Alexander slowly dripped more and more energy into the blade, flowing rather directly. This was a strange sight to see, as the hilt and any other material would always interfere with the process in human creations.

He smiled. This was a good sword, he thought to himself, swinging the blade to the side once again.

Alexander slid it back into the wooden hilt it came with and strapped it to his belt. Thankfully, Furcas would let them embark on their quest in more than cloth tunics.

Now, Alexander wore a thick black shirt with long sleeves. He wasn't usually a fan of only a single layer of clothing for times like these, but considering the material, considering its effectiveness, it was near perfect. It was intended to be stab and slash-proof, thankfully. But against demons... Alexander pushed away the thought of a devil's claws being able to rip past his clothing and kill him instantly.

He chose it because it reminded him of his Virtue uniform, the clothing assigned to him but never used officially. Of course, he paired it up with fingerless leather gloves, for old times' sake.

Somehow, Furcas was able to provide cargo shorts for him. That, coupled with random hiking shoes, Alexander found himself ready to set out, only in need of a weapon or two.

He sheathed his new sword and said a silent prayer in the hopes of it lasting the entire journey, an instance that never really happened with Alexander.

Keiran's clothing was similar to Alexander's. He wore a plain grey shirt as he did in the hours prior, now covered with a white button-up shirt. It seemed to be something Furcas would wear, Alexander realized. He switched to regular pants and regular shoes as well, in preparation for what was to come.

His altogether appearance made it clear that Kieran wasn't used to this sort of thing. And that was for the best.

The long, white overshirt reminded him of Gabriel, along with his bright blue eyes and fair skin. Maybe they had a distant common ancestor, Alexander joked to himself.

After that, there were no similarities at all. Kieran was skinnier, with smoother and shorter hair. He was unstable in his movements and thoughts, unlike Gabriel, the boy who always stood strong and calm under pressure.

Still, it wasn't as if Kieran was weak. He gripped a grand steel shield and slid his arm through the strap.

"It's a good shield," Alexander told him, tying his sheathed blade to his belt.

Kieran chuckled nervously. "Well, it's not like I can tell what makes it good or bad or anything."

Alexander smiled at that. "Yeah, we all start somewhere. All preferably, you wouldn't start much."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just want you to get through Purgatorio and the Gates of Death and back to the World. Nothing more. I don't want you getting into the true world of magic and fighting. It's a lot to handle."

Kieran's eyes drooped down as he stared at a spear in his hands. "I see."

"But listen, don't worry. I'll protect you and your mom the whole way. You'll get through this in one piece." Alexander extended his fist at Kieran, leaving the boy to only look up at it and stare awkwardly.

"You guys don't have fist bumps on Earth?" Alexander asked.

"Oh!" Kieran silently exclaimed, before bumping his closed hand into Alexander's. "Just forgot. I've been meaning to ask you, you know," he said, focusing back on the weapons he held. "How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm 16," Alexander said, ever so plainly.

Kieran once again turned with confusion, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth agape. "Mate, I'm 19. How are you younger than me?!"

"...I was just born in a different year, I guess," Alexander said with a shrug.

He began to stammer. "But Furcas told me about the sort of things you've done and you've gone through, I- I thought-" He let out a breath. "I just thought you were in your mid-twenties or something, and you just looked young. Or it was a Demon-Born thing affecting your aging."

Alexander couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Well, that's life," he told him.

And just as he said that Furcas entered the armory with a light knock at the doorway.

"Speak of a devil," Alexander joked as he turned to the old demon.

Furcas nodded his head to the side, and led them out, intending to show them the stables. That would be where they would find their mode of transportation, it seemed.

It was Alexander's first time outside in the UnderWorld. That meant it was his first time stepping foot out of the castle and into the blazing sun surrounded by dull orange sky.

The sun was red, practically the color of blood as it rained down an intense heat on the land. It was what Alexander hated most- a dry heat. But in this case, he had no choice but to disregard it altogether and simply brave through it.

He followed Furcas as the demon trekked only a dozen or so meters from the home behind him.

Kieran, however, could hardly do the same and still stood at the open doorway. He was English, after all. And the sudden shift in temperature wrought a sudden shift in his facial expressions. His face grew rosy as sweat grew second by second and dripped down his black hair.

Now, all Alexander could wonder was how Kieran survived the entrance to the UnderWorld. How long did Kieran have to trek the endless land around him before finding Furcas? How did Furcas find him anyway?

Furcas judged Alexander's expression and stared at Kieran as sweat began to pour from his pores. He smiled and began to answer Alexander's thoughts. "I was flying alongside the borders of this region when I saw him. A boy just collapsed into the dirt. As I got closer I realized he was a human. All I had to do was pick him up and he spewed out his whole life story," Furcas said with a laugh. "I knew I had to help him."

His smile remained on his face as Kieran got past the doorway and began to walk toward them.

"That was only a week ago, y'know. I was going to set himself out on his own until you came along. It was a perfect storm."

Alexander tilted his head. "Furcas, y'know a perfect storm is a bad thing, right?"

"Oh. No, I didn't know that. I thought it just meant 'perfect'," he said, chuckling awkwardly.

Alexander accepted the response and looked up at the grand castle before them. The pale stone was in contrast to the pastel yellow sand beneath it. But the only thing worth noting in Alexander's mind was the simplicity of the castle. It was human-like in efficiency. Simple to defend, easy to protect. A stronghold capable of holding thousands of others and able to attack from any and all sides.

"Well, what about Jezebel? What's she gonna be doing?

Furcas crossed his arms, the velvet fabric of his suit rustling. "I sent her north. She's familiar with the whole world, so I might as well send her on a few missions here and there. There's intelligence to be sought after." His voice seemed strained as he spoke, as if he somewhat regretted his actions.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"I mentioned a reason as to why I can't accompany you on your quest, yes? Malicious roots setting into the soil. Figuratively, I mean. The Princes are ascending to the World one by one, and being killed off. Their Order is losing power with each day, and many other devils realize this. Each of them has their plans to take land and power, to grow, and to mold the UnderWorld into what they see fit. The way it's going... a war is coming."

Alexander clenched his jaw. War seemed to plague all corners of existence. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to fight for what I believe in. Against malice and against vices. We may be devils... but that doesn't mean we should all kill for the first desire we seek."

Kieran finally caught up. Panting and sweating, he brought a smile to his face and asked. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Oh, nothing," Furcas responded. "Let's just get moving to the stables." He smiled back and turned, walking forward to circle his castle.

The human boys sensed there would be a bit more walking to come. They spat out their sighs and clenched their jaws, before raising their feet from the sandy dirt and pressing forward.

When Furcas mentioned a stable, Alexander already began to envision normal beasts of burden to be used on this arduous journey. But what he didn't understand was how he hadn't seen the 'stables' through any window in the castle, within the entire half-day he had already spent there.

But they kept walking behind Furcas, taking step after step, until the very air shifted and he was met with a cool breeze from the inside. Now, he understood everything.

The entire area was a magical subspace, that only existed through Furcas' creation. No other could destroy it nor intrude into it. Such beautiful magic was not common on Midgard, and it led to a grin forming on Alexander's lips.

But he looked up from the ground and from the soft gusts that pressed against him and unto the contents of the 'stables'. And his eyes widened at the sight.

He was met with stares from creatures of enormous sizes.

Alexander was a Demon-Born. And through his countless experiences in battle and conflicts with fear, he had subconsciously learned to control his instincts. At times, he would let them run out of his control. At others, the fear was already too large to handle, already too much to refuse, and so, he was forced to abide by whatever screamed at him.

But at some times, he would wait. He would feel and observe, and he would surpass those instincts.

Kieran Lassiter was not like Alexander.

He was an Earthly boy, who had probably only seen a few demons, a few monsters here and there. But standing against dragons...

Every human had the instinct to run. Dragons on Earth were rarely kind, rarely helpful to anyone. In fact, they would torch entire cities whenever they felt like it. Even hundreds of years after the Age of Gods, they persisted, living and killing as they pleased, practically becoming the new gods themselves.

For better or worse, magicians from Midgard slowly returned to Earth and, one by one, wiped out the species including the helpful and benevolent few.

But their memory lives on forever, as fear, in human hearts.

Alexander noticed Kieran's trembling legs. But before he could say anything, the Earthling fell back, crashing into the dirt.

"It's okay, boy," Furcas told him, gazing up at the many creatures. "These are kind and gentle. I raised them myself after all. There's nothing to fear. They won't set you to flames or try to eat you. Unless you provoke them, that is."

Alexander kept moving past the largest of the few dragons through the dirt path in the middle. And as he did, there was one that served as the epitome of everything he had heard about dragons and the type of creatures therein, one that completed and perfected the pre-existing mental image he held onto for years.

He got closer and slowly extended his hand unto the beast. It was a black being, covered in coarse scales. Rough to the touch, Alexander noted as he gingerly grazed his hand against it. But as he kept moving and kept tracing his fingertips on the beast, the scales softened, shifting into something more like feathers, a smooth and silky fiber that fluttered in the wind and the feeling of Alexander's cold hands.

The beast was kind.

But it didn't look it. It wasn't even a standard dragon. It was a wyvern, Alexander noted, a beast of two limbs and two wings. Both of those legs ended with feet and talons leaking out and digging into the ground. It had a serpentine tail and tucked-in wings. And as Alexander brushed his hand against the dragon, those wings fluttered.

Each stall was divided by meter upon meter of space, enough to fit dozens of people just for space's sake. And so the beast extended its wings and stretched them out. The skin underneath the wings, just like the underbelly was a pale white that glowed with thin, vein-like streaks of blue.

Alexander carried his hand against it until he reached the snout. The beast had a long face, its mouth shut and eyes wide open as Alexander reached it.

It was then that he finally looked into the wyvern's eyes.

At the same time, Keiran continued to carefully tread toward Alexander through the divide as he gazed up with fear at all the beasts and creatures. "Furcas..." he muttered slowly. "I'm an Englishman. Dragons have always been enemies of my people. You sure you don't have a horse or something?"

The devil laughed. "I have one horse. She is mine, for I am alone am honored enough to tame her."

"And you're telling me these dragons are more tamable than your horse?"

The demon laughed. "Not even close. A dragon is always stubborn, headstrong. Unless they have a connection in their souls to soothe the relationship between beast and beast master."

Alexander's palm sat still and flat, pressed against the black dragon's snout. He stared into those azure eyes that burned like the brightness of a glowing sky full of stars.

"...Well, then," Furcas mumbled out at the unusual sight. No one except for him had been able to take a dragon with such instinctive ease. And that must have been it. A trait passed on from generations. Perhaps Adam Lane could do the same, but his time in the UnderWorld was very different than Alexander's.

There was no point in thinking about that, Furcas reminded himself. No point in mulling over the past.

Instead, he simply plastered a smile onto his face and rushed over to Alexander.

"You did it so quickly?" he asked as Kieran walked towards the two.

"Yeah, I mean-" Alexander turned back and once again looked into the beast's eyes. "I did as you said. Choose a dragon and try to get close. It just... accepted me, I guess."

"She accepted you," Furcas repeated back. "Well, she is young and impressionable, I suppose."

Alexander nodded and faced Furcas. "Makes sense."

"But!" the demon exclaimed. "That doesn't discount what you have just done. You should be proud of yourself, Alexander."

Kieran stood silently.

"I guess I'll keep trying, then," Kieran mumbled.

Alexander went back to rubbing the dragon's snout and familiarizing himself with such a sensation that came with touching dragon scales and the living creature behind them.

"Well, I chose a dragon big enough to carry us both, so..." He paused. "Does it work like that? Like, can this dragon carry us both at once?"

"Oh, of course," Furcas responded. "This breed is full of surprises that you'll see in time."

Kieran's shoulders slumped over. He wanted to keep trying, but it seems it was unnecessary anyway. All thanks to Alexander's thoughtfulness.

Well, he didn't want to embarrass himself anyway.

"Either way," Furcas spoke again. "You must name her."

"The dragon?"

He nodded. "That's what she'll respond to. Normally I would've named her myself, but... I'm never the best at that. And this one's soul was one that eluded me."

"Right."

"Wait, wait, wait," Kieran interrupted. "Dragons have souls?!"

"Everything has a soul," Alexander responded, scratching his chin as he began to think of a name for his new dragon, without even realizing how outrageous the concept of owning one was. "Well, not everything. But the vast majority of living beings do."

"What are the exceptions?" he meekly asked.

"Trolls," Furcas responded quickly.

"Ogres."

"Some demons. Technically."

"Cockroaches."

Keiran paused and stared at the two. "So... Does that mean all humans have souls?"

Alexander furrowed his eyebrows. "Well... Yeah? Right?" he asked, turning back to Furcas, who only gave a firm nod.

"I see..." the boy muttered out.

On that strange note, Furcas turned back to his grandson with the same proud smile he had minutes ago. "She doesn't have a name yet. So... what'll you name her?"

Alexander nodded and faced the wyvern yet again. He stared into those brilliant blue eyes. They reminded him of the night sky, one brimming with the bright intensity of the galaxy.

The Milky Way, he reminded himself. That was the sight he saw at night. That was the same thing he saw when he looked into the beast's eyes.

"Milky Way," he muttered out, without knowing.

As unfit as that name was for a dragon, Alexander didn't focus on that. His heart was still beating alongside hers. Until...

"You know it's called the Milky Way because Hera, the queen of Olympus, got her breast chomped on by baby Heracles," Kieran enlightened Alexander. "So her milk exploded everywhere and created the starry sky you see at night."

"..."

Keiran shrugged. "That's just the story, at least."

Even so, 'No chance in Hell I'm naming a dragon after some goddess' boob explosion,' Alexander noted. He spat out a sigh and dropped his hand from the snout.

The idea of naming the dragon 'Milky Way' was ruined.

"Shadow... No. Shadowfax," Alexander spat out. He remembered the other myth of the white horse, one that could run faster than anything else.

Of course, a black dragon was the opposite of a white horse but...

It seemed to fit.

"Shadowfax?" Furcas asked.

"Shadowfax."

The beast purred in acknowledgment. And that was it, it seemed. Shadowfax was the new name for the young wyvern.

And it was merely an hour later when the humans found themselves outside of Furcas' castle yet again.

Kieran and Alexander were loading their supplies onto the back of the dragon and attaching them to the brand new saddle, although it was mostly Alexander as Kieran was still a bit hesitant each time he got close to the wyvern.

"As you know, I have matters to attend to," Furcas told them. "You'll have to reach Purgatorio alone. If you succeed-"

He paused. "Well... When you succeed," he said with a smile. "Head for the first mountain you see and don't stop until you reach the mountaintop. The mountain itself is bloodred," he said with a slight smirk, as if he recalled good memories he had on that summit. "So, of course, you'll know it when you see it."

But he looked up, his focus shifting unto the children. "I shall wait for you there. Opposite to that mountain are the Gates. From there, I shall guide you all. That's pretty much it." He smiled again, this time a grin as his eyes lit up with excitement and optimism. He had faith and Alexander and Keiran.

As Alexander jumped onto the saddle of the tall beast and readied himself, Furcas asked him, "You have the map, yes?"

"All four, yeah. Thanks for this, Furcas," he said.

"For what?"

"I just kinda doubt most demons would let their grandkids try to go back to the World and all. And most wouldn't want to help a human find his mother's cursed soul. You're a good guy. And I really appreciate the help." Alexander gave his grandfather a thumbs up and a smile.

Furcas nodded back. "Regardless, I'll meet you at the mountaintop. Three days within this hour. Understand? Tell me you both understand."

"Understood," the humans said in unison.

Alexander looked down, and with a smile, he extended his hand at Kieran.

The boy swallowed his dry saliva and grabbed Alexander's hand. He pulled himself up and sat himself down, running his feet through the stirrup. He clenched his jaw as his brain truly processed that he was sitting atop a living dragon.

"Alright. We have a week's worth of food and water," Alexander said aloud.

Kieran stammered out, "Uh, check."

"Weapons."

"Check."

Alexander looked back at Kieran. "That should be it all, honestly. You ready?"

Kieran was nervous. That much was visible, even when he tried not to show it. Still, he clenched his jaw and nodded, shifting his eyes from the beast and to the sky to quell his worries. "Are you?" Kieran managed to spit out.

"Nope." Alexander chuckled. "I don't even know how this works," he said, sliding his fingertips under the leather reins for the first time.

"Wait!" Furcas called out with his yell. "You don't know how to ride a dragon?"

"...Furcas, I've never even seen one before now."

Furcas spat out a sigh. "Well, I suppose you'll be fine. It's just like riding a horse, anyway."

"...Furcas, I don't know how to ride a horse either."

Kieran interrupted with a smile. "It's easy, in any case. You just flap the reins and-"

With Kieran's words, Alexander flapped the reins, and Shadowfax exploded into the air.