heaven to hell

chapter 4 unseen bonds

Dante and Rosalya stood frozen, their gazes locked onto the little girl who had unexpectedly appeared before them. The daylight filtered through the canopy of the trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor, but neither of them paid any attention to the serene beauty around them. Their focus was entirely on the child, who looked up at them with wide, innocent eyes, dark as the deepest night, holding no trace of fear—only a simple, unguarded curiosity.

Rosalya’s mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible situation unfolding before her. *How can she see us?* she wondered, her thoughts spiraling into confusion. For a moment, she considered the possibility of a mistake, some error in the divine order that had allowed this child to perceive them. But the truth, stark and undeniable, quickly surfaced, sending a chill down her spine. *A priestess.* The realization hit her with the force of a tidal wave, washing over her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. The existence of a priestess was more than just improbable—it was miraculous. And with that miracle came a heavy burden of responsibility.

Inwardly, Rosalya grappled with the implications of what she had discovered. Priestesses were more than just blessed beings; they were chosen by God himself, gifted with the ability to see beyond the physical world, to perceive what was hidden from the eyes of ordinary humans. They were healers of extraordinary power, capable of mending wounds that no mortal physician could hope to touch. But they were also exceedingly rare, so rare that none had been born in over two centuries. And now, standing before her, was a child who could only be a future priestess—a being of immense potential, whose very existence was a beacon of hope…and a target for those who would seek to exploit or destroy her.

As these thoughts churned in her mind, Rosalya couldn’t shake the sense of dread that accompanied them. The girl was a miracle, yes, but she was also in grave danger. The world was not kind to those who were different, and the forces of darkness would stop at nothing to extinguish such a light.

Dante, standing beside Rosalya, was dealing with his own whirlwind of emotions. His thoughts were a chaotic mix of anger, frustration, and an underlying fear that he couldn’t quite suppress. The weight of the situation settled over him like a suffocating blanket, heavy and unrelenting. *Great, just what I need,* he thought bitterly, his crimson eyes narrowing as he studied the girl. *Not only did I save a human, but a human blessed by God.* The irony of the situation was not lost on him. As a demon, he was bound by laws that forbade any interference with humans, especially those marked by divine favor. Saving a human was already a crime in the eyes of the demonic hierarchy, but saving a future priestess? That was an offense so severe that it could only lead to one outcome: the harshest punishment the underworld had to offer.

For a moment, Dante considered turning away, leaving the girl to whatever fate awaited her. After all, he had his own survival to think about. But something stopped him—something in the way the girl looked at him, her eyes so full of trust, despite the fact that she should have been terrified. It made him pause, made him question his instincts, and that in itself was troubling.

Rosalya, sensing the turmoil within Dante, forced herself to push aside her own fears. She took a deep breath, her wings fluttering slightly before folding neatly behind her back as she crouched down, bringing herself to the child’s eye level. The sunlight filtered through the trees above, casting a soft, golden glow on her features, making her appear even more ethereal than usual. She needed to understand more about this girl—who she was, where she came from, and how much she knew about her own nature. But more than that, Rosalya felt an inexplicable pull toward the child, a need to protect and comfort her, to offer some semblance of safety in a world that had clearly abandoned her.

As she knelt, Rosalya let a warm, comforting smile spread across her face, her normally vibrant aura dimming to something gentler, more approachable. She reached out, her voice soft and soothing, as she asked, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”