Not Fallen... Yet

Chapter 2 - The Fallen One

Aryan's actual duty was not a hard one, if not the most boring thing in the whole goddamn book. You see, while many demons, such as Aryan himself, are truly Satan's spawn as legend would have you believe, formed from the ever burning flames of the Underworld's deepest pits and created solely out of malice and spite, this is not, in all actuality, the case for all demons. A small portion of the Underworld's ungodly residents weren't actually brought into this sinful life at birth but; rather, were born of Heaven's light and individually crafted by a benevolent God's careful hand. These rare creatures had then committed some unforgivable, heinous act and were banished from the Heavens, leaving them to become a Fallen One, an angel fallen from Grace and turned demon by the sins of the world.

While this wasn't the most frequent occurrence, it was, in no way, uncommon and Aryan happened to be charged with the duty of finding Fallen Ones and introducing them to their new lives as one of the damned, showing them how things ran in the Underworld and ensuring that they wouldn't be slaughtered on day one for bumping into the wrong guy - A task which carried the title The Guide. Like he said, not hard, but definitely not the most exciting thing one could be enlisted to spend an eternity doing day in and day out either.

However, Aryan wasn't one to sit around and bemoan his problems like so many others he'd nearly wanted to strangle two minutes into a conversation, so the demon retired to his own home of sorts without so much as a grumble, veering off the main tunnel and down a corridor to the left with a light flap of his wings sending him airborne, 'cause walking was way too mainstream. The demon beat his huge, bat styled wings lightly so that his feet never touched the ground but never rose much farther than that, not particularly keen on banging his horns into the low rising roof of the side tunnel as he swerved off down a different path and then another, the massive crowds that had pooled out of the Gathering Cavern thinning with each turn he took.

That's all the Underworld was, essentially, a complex series of tunnels and caves that one could quickly become lost in with little hope of escape if they didn't know they're way around, and even then not ever truly free of that risk. Aside from the main caverns and tunnels which the demon's readily inhabited, there were endless pathways beyond the realm of usual use, a never ending maze that not even Lord Lucifer himself could maneuver entirely. One wrong turn and you may find yourself another victim of those merciless tunnels and a light midnight snack for whatever crept through those lonely halls.

Aryan was not, in the slightest bit, interested in the endless tunnels nor the idiots stupid enough to get themselves lost down there. All the guy cared about was getting to work on time so he could hurry up and get the rest of this day over with, already exhausted from his morning shift and more than a little drained after the short lived battle that followed. It took the demon a few minutes to reach his own home, a large cave gouged out of the bleak stone and guarded by a thick wooden door. The cavern was near enough some other demon's own residences that Aryan was not entirely secluded yet remained far away enough from most to offer some sense of privacy as he stalked up to the familiar door and pulled it open with a soft grunt of effort, never really bothering to lock the thing as he had no reason to guard a practically empty cave.

Aryan pulled the thick, wooden door shut behind him, the soft click of the latch catching a welcome sound to his ears that brought forth some sense of serenity, the calm atmosphere of his own home soothing in its privacy and familiarity. The cave was spacious enough, the gray stone walls far spaced and climbing up to a high ceiling many feet above the cold floor below. A bed of sorts sat on the far side of the cavern, though "bed " would probably be too giving of a term here as all it actually consisted of was a nest of furs tossed haphazardly in a messy pile on the floor. On the far side of the room from the poor excuse of a bed, a small doorway let to a bathroom of sorts, which is where Aryan strolled towards, folding his massive wings and actually putting his feet to use for once as he cleared the distance between the opposite sides of the room.