Heaven and Hell

NINETEEN

A R T W O R K

———

CALVIN WAS WRONG. Dimitri had not been keeping time since that first breakfast — the last they had all been together in peaceful conversation — but he was sure it had been twenty or so years since. Days bled on to months and months to years. After keeping score of the first three, Dimitri decided it would be futile to carve more lines into the marble walls since he ran out of space.

For years, nothing interesting happened around the castle walls. He heard whispers about the development of new species, occasionally he trained with Fabian in friendly combat, and found time in experimenting with his newfound abilities. Other times, Dimitri kept to himself in the gardens, flowers blooming around him only to die as quickly after.

However, after such a long silence, a new gossip was spread and Dimitri was the one that told it.

Someone had died.

"Abel..." With a name under his breath, Dimitri found it curious how he could see the deceased's face in his mind. He could picture every curve of his appearance, the bright green of his eyes, and even the hair of dirt brown. The man was very much alive in Dimitri's imagination, but in reality, he was dead.

Hours after Dimitri first learned of Abel's name, with the image of his face haunting Dimitri's mind, the latter decided to pick up a quill and sketch on the parchment. Using the random pieces of paper that littered his room, Dimitri began to outline the main features before sketching into detail. His hands moved with practiced grace as if he had been doing this for his entire existence.

When a knock came from Dimitri's door long after the sun had set, Dimitri finally looked up from his artwork. It had been years since someone visited his room and he was curious to know who it was that finally dared to knock.

"Come in," he called out. No sooner after he had spoken, a figure stepped in gracefully, blond hair almost glowing in the dark and aquamarine eyes dancing with the flames that flickered from Dimitri's oil lamp.

"Drawing?" Lucifer asked, eyeing the parchment with great interest.

Once Dimitri realized it was Lucifer, he turned his attention back to the project he was working on. His back, however, was straighter, posture taller, and mind more wary of his surroundings. An enemy had just walked into his den.

"What do you want?" Instead of replying, Dimitri fired back at Lucifer with a question of his own. Gently, he dipped the quill back into the pot of ink, allowing it to rest there before pushing the drawing to a side.

Lucifer's lips twitched in amusement. "Nothing much. Just wanted to see how well you were faring. It's been years."

"You would be the last person that could have the heart to care, Lucifer. Such a brazen proclamation, you've just made."

"Unlike what you and your brothers think, I do have the heart to care about those who were once under my wing."

Dimitri thought he heard a flinch in Lucifer's voice when he had said that last word. However, the former decided to pay no mind to it. Only angels could have wings. As the demon king, Lucifer had no right to dream of such fantasies. Not anymore and maybe even from the start.

"It has been years, Lucifer. My days had been silent. Why did you suddenly intrude?"

"Ah," Lucifer smiled this time. It was brighter, bolder, stronger. "A little bird that has been flitting about the new realm of Earth had told me that someone just committed a grave sin. Murder, they said it was. What is more, I've heard sources tell me that a brother had betrayed another due to jealousy and greed. Such an interesting tale, is it not?"