Page 4 of Falling for Ash
As General of the Daemonium Guard, Ash was obligated to report the bad news to the Lord of the Underworld. Just another ducky perk. He exhaled, frowning hard.
Lucifer was not known for his tendency to forgive less than perfect results. Now more than ever, he demanded the Underworld be safe from all threats. Ash understood this, and even though he’d only just returned to his position, he assumed all responsibility for the Guard.
The Lord of Purgatory had a reputation for having little patience for error. An impending threat to his kingdom was not to be tolerated. He would demand answers and results, as was his right.
Unfortunately, Ash had neither.
“My lord,” he began. “The soulless are stirring. I’ve had legates reporting unrest in the southern borders of Purgatory. These officers are trustworthy, my lord. They are the best of their legions, hand chosen by me. Be assured, I am doubling our efforts to squash these rumors and tend to any perceived threat, real or otherwise?—”
“Yes, yes.” Lucifer waved his hand. “I’ve read your reports, Asmodeus, but that is not why I have summoned you here.”
“Then why have you, my liege?” Ash asked, careful to show his respect for the most powerful being in the Underworld, even if it galled him that Lucifer kept calling him by his more formal monikers. Yes, he was called Ashmedai or Asmodeus, but he preferred Ash. Always had.
His entire perspective had changed. Not that he could blame himself. After the Demon who had held him under thrall, that evil bastard Molloch, who had been defeated and locked away by Satan himself, Ash had been freed and thankfully forgotten by the powers that be. Indeed, with the end of the Curse of St. Natalis, that which had damned Werewolves for a millennium, by a certain teen aged Werewolf, Ash had been left alone and without direction.
Free for the first time in an age. But with no true purpose. No reason to be. He simply was.
And wasn’t that depressing?
A shell of his former self, he saw no other options.
Returning home was the only thing Ash could think of that made any sense at all. And so he had. Ash had sped away back to the Underworld. Alone in his manse for weeks to return to his former physical strength. Molloch had left him an empty shell, but soon, he was himself again, if only on the outside.
But even with his strength returned, the home he once knew wasn’t what he’d remembered. No more public flaying. No fire and brimstone. True, there was still a hint of sulfur in the air, but it was so faint that even with his Demonically enhanced senses, he had hardly detected it.
The Underworld was starting to look mundane as Hell. No pun intended.
“Asmodeus?” Lucifer called his name. The Lord of Purgatory seemed both amused, and as if he were hiding something. On guard, Ash bowed respectfully before answering.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Enough with the ‘my lord’ thing, for fuck’s sake, how long have we known each other? I think you can call me Lucifer when you are in my office, Ash,” the King of the Underworld said with a rather frightening smile.
Ash nodded, though he had no intention of being so informal. He stood, back straight, head high, ready and at attention. Friendly or not, Lucifer was the ruling sovereign. He deserved the utmost respect from all his citizens.
“I said at ease, General,” Lucifer barked.
He rolled his eyes, probably annoyed at Ash’s disobedience, and caused a flash of white lightning cutting across the red-gray skies. It would have been beautiful if Ash had allowed himself the time to observe the phenomena. At the moment, he was trying not to piss off his boss any further.
“Look, you need to snap out of this, Asmodeus. I mean, why so formal? You should be enjoying yourself.”
“I should?”
“Yes! You aren’t getting any younger?—”
“Demons don’t really age, as you know, my lor—, uh, Lucifer.”
Fuck no.
That did not feel right.
He clamped his lips together and tried not to wince at the Lord of the Underworld’s raucous laughter.
“There! Isn’t that better? Now tell me, Ash, doesn’t anything in Purgatory hold any interest for you at all? Aside from hunting down the soulless and tearing them limb from limb, that is.”
“Uh, no. Not really. I mean, of course I am grateful to you, sir. I appreciate you allowing me to resume my role as General of the Daemonium Guard,” Ash said, stumbling over the traditional courtesies due to his master.
“The current crop of legates is outstanding. I have charged them with keeping their legions and cohorts on point, ready for inspection at any time. They are working in tandem, patrolling our borders, using freshly trained packs of hellhounds to monitor threats. Their prime operative is to keep the soulless rogues at bay and to investigate the rumors in the Southlands.”
