The Devil's Smile Chapter Two

Chapter 2: The Devil's Smile



The Mirror Valley had returned to its natural silence in the wake of the Ceremony. Ansiel contemplated the chess board before him and then carefully made his move before sitting back in his chair a little and glancing up at Penemuel, his companion and the bane of his existance.

Penemuel gave him a dull look, reaching over to move a piece in a manner that suggested anything but strategy. Ansiel saw it for what it was, however: a calculated move, and he settled down to ponder his next move carefully.

With the creation of the truce, one demon and one angel had been assigned to the Eternal Tower to keep watch over the Mirror Valley. For more than three hundred years, Penemuel and Ansiel had stayed to guard what the others had left behind. Penemuel sniffed, shaking his head and pulling one foot onto the chair.

"I want to be white next time," he stated flatly, his glare sullen. "It's my turn."

"I'm white," Ansiel stated quietly, making his move. "You're the black pieces. It's always been that way and I'm not changing it now." Penemuel turned his face away, glaring off into the woods beyond as he moved his queen to protect his king.

"Bloody angel," he grumbled, "always gotta have things your own damn way, don't you?"

"Mind your language," Ansiel said softly before looking up with a brilliant smile and moving his last piece. "And that's checkmate."



"One day I'd like someone to actually try causing some trouble here, just once. It's so boring being a guard," Penemuel said into the chess board, resting his face on his arm and wondering whether or not it was worth scattering the pieces from the board in a false display of anguish. He eventually decided against it, watching as Ansiel began to reset the chess board to play again.

"This is noble work," the angel told him in a merry tone. "No news is good news. Don't wish for trouble." He smiled, then replaced Penemuel's pieces as well while the demon watched him from his position atop the chess table.

"You're boring too you know," was all Penemuel had in retort.

Both of them were too busy in their light banter to notice a small figure slipping through the Heaven Gate in the distance and disappearing into the woods of the Mirror Valley.

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Zepar hurried through the undergrowth, uncaring as he disturbed a number of animals resting in the twilight branches of dusk. He didn't know what to expect up ahead. He had left the invitation open, and whether Mihr would show up or not was completely out of his hands, but he had decided that day to hold to his word and show up himself. It was nearly night though. If she had shown up, she could very well have decided to leave before he arrived.

He need not have worried. Mihr was waiting for him when he arrived, watching the waters of the lake he had shown her. Off against the mountains, the waterfall cascaded slowly down. Monarch butterflies danced about her in the dusk. Zepar stopped a moment to stare at her, listening to her gentle laugh as she reached to the butterflies. Then he closed his eyes a moment.

She seemed so young, so vibrant, untouched by the war that had echoed between the Planes of Heaven and Hell. For centuries his Uncle and the Archangel had held an unsteady truce between them, a ceasefire that depended solely on their ability to walk on eggshells about one another. Their predecessors before them had waged terrible wars. There was not an angel or demon in the entire world who was not touched by the taint of that war.

Except her.

She was a splash of purity and light against the growing darkness of the Mirror Valley. And he was drawn like a moth to the flame.

He approached her in silence, until at last he stood behind her. For a moment he waited, considering her, until at last he leaned over beside her and she glanced back, gracing him with her brilliant smile.



"Mihr," he murmured, "you came." She tipped her head back a little.

"Lord Zepar." She rose from her seat on the rock and faced him. "I am glad to see you." He smiled as she took his hand and pulled him along towards the water, laughing softly. "I was waiting for you for some time."



"I'm sorry," he said, realizing with some surprise he meant it genuinely. As she drew to a halt at the edge of the lake, he reached to take her other hand in his and look into her clear eyes. "I didn't expect you to come again." She blushed a little and looked away towards the water.

"Well...the birds were still - "



"The birds, the birds..." he sighed, releasing her hands and turning away with a wry smile. "You'd enter the Plane of Hell for those birds, wouldn't you?" He gazed sidelong to her. "Or perhaps that's not it." His look was amused as he turned and cupped her chin, leaning towards her. "Perhaps you're here for more selfish reasons, hmm?" She blinked, backing away a little.

"What are you saying?" He pulled away a little, gazing out to the lake.

"I think you're avoiding the truth. You're not here for birds are you? It's night now, and the birds are gone anyway." She bit her lip.

"I..." He gave a soft laugh, then reached to lay a finger on her lips.

"Hush, don't say it. I already know. Maybe it is the birds, but that's not the only reason. I will say it instead. I, the demon, will be the honest one for both of us. I am here only to see you, Mihr." She licked her lips, meeting his gaze.

"I know," she finally said. He considered her a moment, then leaned in until their faces nearly touched. "You're going to kiss me aren't you," she whispered, and he could feel the heat of her as he smiled slightly.

"You might be right there," he breathed, and then suddenly, he was pressing his lips softly to hers.



She froze, and he slowly pulled back. It was not a deep kiss, nor a long one, but she put her fingers to her lips as he drew back, quivering a little, silent. He turned away, looking back to the lake, and narrowed his eyes.




"I'm sorry." Again? He'd never been as apologetic in his life, and here he was saying it twice in a single conversation. But those lips had been so soft and warm, the shock and confusion within her was true, and she was the most innocent creature he'd ever met. His very presence could taint her, nevermind his touch.

He felt the fire in his veins flare up a little as he felt the gentle pressure of fingers curling about his arm.



"Lord Zepar?" He reached to cover her hand with his, holding her there gently.

"Mihr, I want you to go home. Go home, and don't come back. I'm a demon. I look at you, and I can't help myself. I see something I can take." She was quiet a moment, then she shook her head.

"That's not true. If it was," she said softly, "then you wouldn't ask me to leave. You wouldn't tell me to go home." He swung about to face her.



"You don't know what you're talking about! Don't you see where this could go!? Don't you see what this leads to?!" She met his eyes.

"No, I don't, and neither do you. The future is not for either of us to know." He sniffed, turning his face away, gritting his teeth.

"Don't give me that crap, Mihr. It's complete nonsense. This goes nowhere you want it to, and everywhere I do. I'm a demon. You're an angel. There is nothing for us. Nothing." He grimaced. "If I act like I usually would, I'd do as I wished and leave you to fend for yourself once Sidriel and his choir cast you from the Plane of Heaven. I wouldn't be back. I'm a coldhearted, cruel, lustful bastard, Mihr. Don't you dare think otherwise." She reached to touch his arm lightly again, then carefully guided his face back until their eyes met. She was smiling, but there were tears threatening in her eyes.

"But I do think otherwise. I know otherwise."

"How?!" he demanded. "How can you possibly have any idea what you're talking about!? You don't know me!"

"I can see your heart, Lord Zepar. Demon or angel, it matters nothing to me. I see your heart, and it is not black, like you say. It is pure gold." She reached up, going on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips to his. "You are right. I'm not here for birds. I'm here for you, as you are here for me. And I will not leave." She kissed him again, and he felt any resistance melt away. He caught her tightly in his arms, kissing her back harder and closing his eyes.

"We'll regret this," he said when at last he broke the kiss, leaving her there with the tears still standing in her eyes. She just shook her head, a tear finally slipping out.

"No. I never will."

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The morning was bright and early when Lady Sachael summoned Mihr to attend her. It was crisp, soft snow swirling about them even as Sachael's royal garden blossomed through the blanket of white and the cold. Lady Sachael was the Queen of the Plane of Heaven. She did not have the power or command of Archangel Sidriel, who ruled from the citadel on the other side of their world, but she had duties and responsibilities of her own. She was the representative of all that was good in Heaven, and the birth of the cherubim fell to her auspices. Here, in the garden that never died, all angels were born, nurtured by the queen of heaven into the first breath of cold, fragrant air.

There were no cherubim to birth now. They were born in high summer, and the most recent Ceremony marked the turn of fall, but the garden was still lovely and beautiful. Mihr followed the stone path, waiting for Lady Sachael to speak, waiting for anything.

But Sachael said nothing, simply moving through her garden, speaking softly to the plants she passed and encouraging them to grow. It was only when they reached the bridge that Sachael at last spoke back to her.

"I've never known you to be so quiet, Mihr."



For a brief moment, Mihr considered telling her everything. She had not lied about meeting Zepar, because no one had asked her, so for the time being she alone knew of her secret rendevous with a demon in the Mirror Valley. Lady Sachael, in her experience, was not the sort to stay in the dark for long, however, and some day soon she would learn of Mihr's exploits, she had no doubt.

"I was thinking, Lady Sachael," Mihr finally said, stepping up the bridge stairs as Sachael reached to examine the branches of one of her cypress trees. "Why do we have the ceremony? I understand that the Mirror Valley was a source of contention during the wars with the Plane of Hell, but why did we decide to share it rather than let it be on its own?"

Sachael did not look back, instead lapsing into silence a moment. Mihr watched her move a little further along the bridge, then at last blinked as Sachael turned to look at her with a solemn look.

"The story is a long one, and complicated, but I suppose it is because neither angels nor demons like losing, and when Lord Sidriel and the Nocturne Lord made their truce, the only way to appease the two sides was to share power. Power is not something we can simply abandon easily, Mihr. Often stepping away from power can be the hardest thing of all for those who have already tasted it." She sank down onto the stone railing of the bridge, taking a seat. "What brought this on?"

Mihr gave her a troubled look.

"The Nocturne Lord and Lord Sidriel looked very uncomfortable when they exchanged power at the Monument the other day," she said. Sachael looked away, sighing.



"They have a very long and grim history, those two, but never before has there been peace between us. Demons and angels do not easily co-exist."

Mihr clasped her hands before her. "But what if some could? What if an angel and a demon could be friends?"

"I would like to see that one day," Sachael said honestly, but she shook her head. "It has yet to be possible. Only Penemuel and Ansiel who live in the Mirror Valley have ever managed to live together in peace, and their friendship, if it can be called that, is a rocky one. They have been together so long, they have both changed. Ansiel is hardly an angel anymore, and Penemuel is hardly a demon. They have become something else entirely during their cohabitation."



"I think it could be done," Mihr stated sharply. "I think it's possible. If there were demons and angels that could see eye to eye, to understand one another, then the truce could be made a true peace." Her eyes narrowed. "I don't know how, and it would involve a great deal of trust on both sides, but I think if it could happen, the Mirror Valley would be truly free."

Sachael smiled softly. "You've given this a lot of thought," she said in a gentle tone, "but I think it's too soon for old wounds to heal, little one. Maybe when you and your generation rule heaven and hell it can be done. But now? It seems impossible now."

"I bet Lord Sidriel would agree with me!" Mihr stated suddenly. Sachael gave a clear laugh, patting the railing beside her as an invitation for Mihr to sit.

"He would indeed agree with you. He is certainly an advocate of peace, before all others, but he too understands that circumstances are against us now. Time must pass and old wounds heal before either side will trust one another properly again, Mihr."



Mihr sank into a seat herself and sighed, giving up for a moment. Sachael took advantage of her lapse in effort to give her a sly little sidelong look.

"What is really going on, then, Mihr? That certainly isn't the only thing on your mind. Why the sudden preoccupation with the Mirror Valley?" Mihr gave her a soft look, silent a moment.

"I can't say," she finally said, taking Sachael by surprise. "I think it is a very beautiful and peaceful place, or it could be, and I wish it were a place that demons and angels could meet in peace instead of to engage in powerbattles and concessions." She met Sachael's eyes. "For thousands of years there was war, and I don't see why it has to continue. I want to do my part to make it a peaceful place where everyone can go."

Sachael raised her eyebrows, recognizing sincerety in Mihr's voice, and then she finally sat back, sighing.

"Well, I too would like the Mirror Valley to see a true and lasting peace without the need for an armored guard and these Ceremonies of power-trading. I don't see how, but it's a goal we can all hope for, at the very least. If you think you can bring about true peace, who am I to stop you?" She smiled, pushing herself up. "Now, you're late to meet with Lord Sidriel. He will be waiting." Mihr leapt up with a cry of surprise, and then hurried off down the steps, throwing a wave to Sachael in goodbye.



Sachael watched her go, her mind slowly re-examining every word of Mihr's strange new mission statement until at last she recognized something in the words she had heard once long ago. A small smile came to her lips and she sighed. She had a sneaking suspicion that whatever had prompted this change in Mihr had something to do with Lord Zepar of Hell. Well, she would keep an eye on the situation, and make sure he did nothing to harm her. Perhaps, Sachael thought, at last turning back to her flowers, some exposure to demons would be good for Mihr. She might get the chance to grow up, away from Sidriel's sheltered teachings and ministrations. Sachael believed in giving people a chance to grow alone, so she would keep her revelations to herself for now, and if things needed intervention, she herself would seek out Lord Zepar of Hell and put things right.

Smiling at her plan, she stepped down and cupped a budding rose in her hand before drawing back and looking up towards the snowy sky.

"Alright, Mihr, let us see what you do when given free rein, and for now I shall play your game."


END CHAPTER 2