The Inferno

The Inferno was built from the ground up, several millennia prior to the Demon King's birth, and it was said that a human soul would traverse its layers to reach the Beyond.

The Beyond was many different things — Heaven, Valhalla, Tech Duinn — thousands of different afterlives blended together to create the perfect ending for a perfect soul. There were so many separate ones that it had collectively become known as the Beyond to avoid any sort of confusion.

Souls would travel up the layers, desperate to meet with the angels at the very top. Once one had safely reached them, they would be taken to the Beyond to do as they pleased for the rest of eternity.

Each layer was a sin — beginning with Limbo at the bottom and ending with treachery at the top.

The Demon King lived at the top of the Inferno.

As Bryi laid in the straw of the stable, he wondered if he would be able to make it through the layers of the Inferno. The stories stated that if you could not forgive yourself for the worst sin in your life, then you could not pass it in death. Were there any sins he could not forgive himself for?

"Bryi!"

The stableboy sighed to himself. He would likely never know until death did him part, but it was so much more fun to wonder than shovel horse shit.

"If I come in there and find you sleeping I'll whip you until the Demon King himself can smell the blood!"

Bryi scrambled to his feet, "Coming, Master Dorian!"

The stablemaster was a small, rotund man by the name of Dorian. He had a prominent double chin, and his eyes sunk into his skull — giving off the appearance of a corpse. There was a large dent in his head above his left ear where Bryi was sure a horse had tried to rearrange his marbles. If only it had succeeded.

"Inferno save me, you're just like your mother." Dorian didn't look up at him, sweeping as he spoke. "A useless bastard."

Bryi could not defend himself against Dorian's verbal onslaught for two reasons.

The first: he did not wish to receive a bruise to match the one still healing on his left cheek.

The second: he did not remember his mother. He did not remember anything, for that matter.

Three days ago, Bryi had woken up in the straw in the stable, knowing nothing but his name. Dorian had appeared, roaring and raving, and when Bryi claimed that he had no idea where he was, beat him and accused him of trying to get out of his chores.

In the few conversations they'd had since, Bryi had found out his mother was dead and he worked for Dorian to pay off the rest of her debt.

"Focus, boy, are you listening?"

"I apologize, Master Dorian. Please repeat what you were saying."

That was something else about the stablemaster. You didn't refer to him as just 'Dorian', unless you had a death wish. Always 'Master Dorian', or 'Stablemaster'.

Bryi had learned that when one of the other boys had made the near fatal mistake.

"The royal family will be arriving any minute now to purchase a new horse for the princess." Dorian pointed a pudgy little finger at him. "You will assist her, understand?"

"Yes, Master Dorian."

"Whatever she wants, you will provide."

"Yes, Master Dorian."

The stablemaster huffed. "Get the straw out of your hair, and make yourself at least look presentable. Wash your hair out by the faucet."

Bryi, glad to have something to do that would keep him out of trouble — and Dorian's line of sight — gave a quick bow and retreated.

The faucet in question was just outside the backdoor. Bryi flipped the handle up, and cupped his hands to catch the cool stream of water. It was a bit of a shock to splash it onto his face, but it was nice to feel the dirt and grime of the past few days be washed away.

When he finished, he found a clean towel and dried off his face. The tips of his curly blond hair stuck together from the water.

"Hurry up, boy!" Dorian called from inside. "She's just arrived!"

Bryi rushed back inside, and then realized just how little he knew of the princess. "Where do I meet her?"

"The door, you imbecile!" Dorian smacked him over the head, and then pushed him to the entrance of the stables.

He grimaced as he stumbled forward, nearly falling to the ground. He caught himself, and straightened once more.

A footman dressed in white opened the door to a carriage that was completely white. The horses that pulled the carriage were also completely white. From where he stood, Bryi could see that even the curtains inside were white.

All of it was white.

The white door opened, and a woman dressed completely in white stepped out. She had a white veil covering her face and hair, and her white dress nearly touched the ground.

It must have been a sin to let anything other than white touch the princess' skin.

"Presenting Princess Lucella Castrianus of the royal house Castrianus, firstborn to King Galen Castrianus the Fourth and Queen Natalia Castrianus."

Bryi bowed low before the princess, thinking that it was silly that they should use so many words to introduce one person. He almost wondered if the king had twice as long of an introduction than his daughter did.

And yet, her name — Lucella — stirred something deep inside him.

So familiar that his heart ached.

The hem of her white dress appeared in his peripheral view, and he fought the urge to look up. You were supposed to until she decided that it was alright, right?

"Stand straight," her voice was so soft, "let me see you."

Bryi did has he was told, and was startled to see that she had removed the veil. Startled to see why she wore it in the first place.

Her left eye was an icy blue, her right a milky white. No doubt the blindness was the result of the horrid scar that spanned the side of her face. It reached from just above her eyebrow, down to the corner of her mouth, across the bridge of her nose, and back to the lobe of her ear. It was ugly, yet awe-inspiring and reminded Bryi of lightning.

But it was not difficult to tell that the scar had been purposefully carved into her face.

Movement behind her, and Bryi glanced away to lock eyes with a man whose own were such a bright green they seemed to glow. His long, red hair was tied back neatly, and rested against the nape of his neck.

"My lady," he stepped behind the princess, and gently draped the veil back over her face, "you know you are not supposed to take the veil off in public."

"Of course, Lrees." Although Bryi could not see her face, he knew the princess was not happy to do so.

Her attendant turned to Bryi. "We have come to acquire a proper steed for her highness, not to let you gawk." He motioned for him to move along. "We will take your finest white horse."

Bryi bowed, and walked away as quickly as he could. While he liked the princess, he was eager to be out of the man's watchful gaze.

A horse that met Lrees' demands was found within the hour, and the attendant stepped away with the stablemaster to discuss payment.

Bryi was gently stroking the nose of an appaloosa when the princess appeared at the side.

��You're very gentle with them."

The stableboy looked at her — or, rather, the veil — and then moved to the side so that she could pet the horse instead. He said nothing.

"You're quiet, too." A pale hand brushed against the horse's dark face.

He nodded.

"Say something."

He looked to the horse, then mumbled softly, "I do not wish to test your attendant's ire."

The princess lowered her voice just as he did, "Lrees is too busy talking. Please, I wish to hear your voice again."

Bryi froze. "Again?"

She shifted, and he knew she was staring at him from underneath the veil. "As I feared, you do not remember. Keep as you were, though — do not seem alarmed."

He raised his hand, shakily petting the horse again. Even the animal seemed a little shaken by the turn of events, and she snorted at him.

"At least, I assume you have no memory." The princess' hand brushed against his.

"You assume correct." He resisted the urge to press his hand against hers.

"Then I will not try to explain too much right now, lest I overwhelm you."

And yet, Bryi wanted to know everything right then and there. "What will you explain, then?"

She had no time to answer, for Lrees beckoned the princess. Bryi wanted to yell at him to wait a moment, but refrained for his own safety.

"I will send Quantl to you." She whispered, and then she followed her attendant out the stable doors.

And she was gone.

Lucella was only allowed to remove the veil from her face once Lrees had shut the curtains of the carriage. It was her father's rule, no one else's, and all to make the princess' face a mystery. To make the royal family seem like something untouchable. It aggravated her, because her brother, Syrith, did not have to do anything such as that.

But, right now, she was angry for another reason.

Lrees crossed his legs, and finally took note of the rage that was clearly evident on the princess' face.

"Oh, don't look at me like that."

"I found him." Lucella reached up, and tore the veil out of her hair. "Your game is over."

He tilted his head. "Is it? You may have found him, but that doesn't mean you win."

Lucella's heart dropped at his tone. Of course. Of course he had another plan. She was a fool to expect otherwise.

"What must I do?" Her voice trembled, and she almost hated herself for asking, for displaying such weakness. "Please, tell me."

She hated him so much. This man who had ruined her chance at any sort of happy life, out of jealousy. If it hadn't been for Lrees, then she would still be in the Inferno, living a happy life with her husband.

A dangerous grin spread over his lips, "What are you willing to trade?"