[1] The Grand Finale

[EPISODE 1: CINNAMON]

If a painter ever were to make an attempt at turning the word "Sorrow" into a piece of artwork, they would end up with the exact image of that morning on Pomegranate Hill.

Mist encased the small hillside. The sun hadn't risen yet, and even if it had, the rain clouds gathering overhead wouldn't choose to let it shine. Despite this, the flowers that littered the grass below the tree were starting to open anyway. The place was beautiful, but dark. Similar to the ruins of a once-great temple or a broken statue. It was nothing more than a remnant of a different time —a different world.

Two headstones were buried in the rose bushes, side by side. They were cross-shaped, as many headstones are. Only these two had been placed upside-down like the cross of Saint Peter. One was older, and already bore both its name and epitaph. The other was brand new and completely blank. This headstone belonged to Bentley.

Someone stood before the set of stones, his face was blank and his movements were still. Two solid black eyes were fixed on the new stone, struggling to focus on them. Two black leathery wings were laying helplessly at his sides. Two curved, black daggers hung on either side of his waist. And even though this particular demon always wore black, his clothing seemed especially somber in the light of the occasion. He looked lost, empty, and annoyed all at the same time.

This, of course, was none other than Xander Hellbourne. The only one still alive out of the original three Hellbourne siblings. Though his reputation wasn't quite as large and unwieldy as those of either of his deceased sisters, he had also accidentally made quite a name for himself among his own kind. This was mostly because he was the most resentful of the three, and also because he was heavily involved in Hell's political scene.

And now he was even more famous as the last surviving member of his family, although that would never be something he would take pride in.

With a sigh, Xander flicked his hand and two words traced themselves out on the stone in front of him.

Bentley Hellbourne.

After this, he stopped again. There was nothing worth writing after that —no words that came to mind that Bentley would stand having written above her grave for all of eternity. So Xander just found himself staring blankly at the stone again.

"You trying to come up with a good epitaph?" Asked a voice behind him.

Another person had arrived. Even though the ages of ethereal beings such as demons had no affect on their physical appearance, the face of the demon called Smythe was older than Xander's, as seemed to be her mind. She walked up beside him on the hillside and gave him a look. Her eyes were kind, and filled with the sorrow that the other demon's couldn't seem to reflect yet.

"She'd kill us if we write something too ordinary," Xander replied "I need something... something like her."

At this, Smythe laughed a little.

"'A creature born to make noise and wreak havoc.'?" She suggested.

Xander didn't laugh. Because this statement was a reasonably accurate description of how his sister had been during her life. But he knew Bentley would probably find some way to slap him over the head through the afterlife if he put that on her headstone.

He scanned his brain for any alternative ideas and came up with nothing.

"I don't know. Maybe I should just leave it blank. Demons aren't even supposed to have graves anyway."

"Bentley wasn't a normal demon," Said Smythe, "She doesn't need a normal send-off. Also, I think she'd be happier here... beside her sister."

She nodded towards the other headstone. Centuries ago, Bentley had carved the name with her bare hands. Even though many years had passed, the name was still written in the stone, as clear as ever:

Lilith Hellbourne.

And below that, in matching handwriting, was a quote from a famous work of William Shakespeare.

"Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it."

Xander's void-like eyes fell on the name, but he couldn't think of anything to say nor anything to write. So he just stood still again.

Smythe let out a sigh.

"Xander, how are you feeling?"

"How long is the peace agreement supposed to last?" He asked,

Smythe looked like she sensed the reluctance to answer her question, but played along. She must have understood that he needed to change the subject. For that, Xander was very grateful.

Including himself, there were seven members of Hell's High Council. Smythe was the only one of the other six whom Xander would ever consider to be anything close to a friend.

"It will last for exactly one hundred years," She said with a sigh.

"That's it?" Xander asked, slightly miffed. "That's all Bentley's life could buy? What kind of settlement is that?"

"It's just a temporary contract. With any luck, these years will help us reach some sort of permanent solution."

Biting at his lip, Xander considered this.

"My whole family was killed by angels. First, my parents. Then Lilith, now finally Bentley. Why did I have to survive all alone?"

"God has a plan for all of us," Smythe muttered, more to herself.

The two fell silent again. Just for a moment.

"You're not thinking of seeking revenge against Atticus, are you?" She asked.

He shook his head.

"That would violate the contract, wouldn't it? Anyway, the history between Atticus and Bentley is more complicated than my own feelings. The two of them hated each other even more than I hate angels." He stopped for a moment, considering his words. "It was only a matter of time before one killed the other."

"They say heaven's been treating him like a hero ever since. It's strange. I never saw anything heroic in Atticus. Nothing about him screams... anything, really."

"It's because of his relationship with Bentley." He said, recalling the years of history between his late sister and the angel. "That's the only reason he was ever worth anything in Heaven. It was only because they were rivals before the fall."

"Never underestimate the power of a name, my good friend." Smythe sighed again, looking at Bentley's still-blank headstone. "It's only a shame I didn't tell that to your sister."

Xander scoffed. For no reason except to hide the tears that were starting to build up behind his eyes.

"It wouldn't have mattered," He said bitterly, "Bentley's name would have killed her anyway. It's her own fault for throwing her weight around so much..."

Then he made the mistake of blinking and suddenly warm tears were rolling down his cheeks.

Upon feeling them, Xander realized the shock was finally wearing off and the absolute level of grief was closing in. The world around him began to spin. Before he knew it, he had already fallen to his knees. And as if the sky itself shared his pain, dots of rain started to appear on the petals of the flowers, forming tears from above. Xander aimed a few vulgar comments at the ground.

As Smythe felt the rain grow heavier, she began to realize that her companion was probably not going to move at all, so she did the only thing she could think of. She opened one of her glassy bug-like wings and held it over his head, letting the rain roll off. It was the least she could do.

In that moment, the world had finally settled. It was over.

Because no being, no matter how great her name may have been, no matter how invincible she may have seemed, nothing could beat the eventual end of death.

Bentley Hellbourne was powerful, but not more powerful than death.

And this was the end of her story.

Right?

...

Bentley died on Atticus' blade. That much was certain.

And it was to be expected. She was a demon from Hell and he was an angel from Heaven. Even without the personal millennia-long conflict between the two, the massive biblical war between their respective sides would have put them at odds with each other eventually. The only surprising thing was that Atticus was the one who won in the end.

Because compared to her, Atticus wasn't really anything extraordinary. Although they were the same age, she had always been the greater power. The more dangerous one. The one who's name alone could ruffle the feathers of even the highest angels in the Heavens. And she was also the one who could not follow the orders of her own superiors. Whereas Atticus had never been seen as anything but ordinary for his entire life. So how someone so insignificant had managed to strike down one of the most infamous creatures ever to roam the four realms was beyond the comprehension of everyone who witnessed Bentley's lifeless body nailed to the ground by a golden blade that night.

That night in 1941. In the middle of the London Blitz.

Really it was quite a blunder on behalf of both sides. A brawl between angels and demons had broken out amid the bombings sometime around midnight. It wasn't really anything serious, with no notable names involved in the squabble. The entire thing was closer to a brief exchange of fists than it was a battle. Nobody really had any intention of dying in it.

Until someone actually did. Or rather— a FEW someones actually did.

Nobody even noticed what had happened until after the fact. It was only later that each of the realms managed to piece together the chaos into a somewhat followable storyline. However, there were still some parts that nobody could confirm nor deny, except for Atticus himself, of course. But strangely, after the whole ordeal, he would not speak of what he did. So each side was left to assume one series of events that would later become common knowledge among all.

At some point during the night, Bentley had decided to wander amidst the fighting. Already, this was an uncharacteristic move on her part —although by that point in history she had become naturally unpredictable, so neither angels nor demons dare assume her reasoning. It was more understandable that Atticus was there, as he often was sent down by his superiors to participate in squabbles such as this one. It was doubtful, however, that either had intended to meet the other at all on the battlefield that night.

Later on, Bentley was cornered by six lower-power angels. She was practically a walking target, and just about every angel in heaven secretly fantasized about being the one to finally take her down. So of course she pulled all kinds of attention just by being in the vicinity. After being chased by the angry mob for some time, she led them into the shell of a bombed-out building. Seven deities went in. Only one came out. The story changes depending on who's telling it. Heaven said that she lured the angels all there to kill them in one go. Hell says she acted in self defense. But both agree that it was a bloodbath all at the hands of one demon.

Having been the only witness to the gruesome sight, Atticus chased Bentley to the Tower Bridge. Nobody knew how long they fought for, or if it was much of a fight at all. Regardless of the details, Atticus won in the end and the world was finally liberated from Bentley's chaotic reign.

The moments immediately after were rather disorganized. To the demons, Bentley had been a hero and a weapon. She was a glorious and untouchable force in their eyes, but now seeing her killed so easily, many of the demons fled. However the angels were quite the opposite, regarding Bentley Hellbourne as a threat and a target. When they found that she had been defeated by one of their own, many rejoiced and declared Atticus a hero for slaying his old rival.

And though the war itself was greater than the conflict between Atticus and Bentley, it was all put on pause. In the following weeks, a peace agreement was established, so such an event would not happen again until both sides could handle it. Then the human's infamous World War ended about four years later. So the dip in energy was then increased further.

Of course, Atticus killing Bentley wasn't the only reason the war was temporarily called off. There were plenty of other reasons ranging from economic stability to population recovery. Really it had only been a catalyst rather than a cause. But the nature of her demise were certainly a wake-up call.

Criticisms of the official agreement rose up, as was expected. Many beings claimed that true peace, considering the history between angels and demons, was impossible and that even a temporary ceasefire was simply meaningless. However, in light of certain events, the Archangel Gabriel and the council of Hell finally came to an agreement of one-hundred years of peace.

Heaven gave Atticus pash de Ophaniel profound recognition for his service in honour of defeating Bentley Hellbourne. However, protests rose quickly among demonkind in the wake of her death. Calling for the termination of the peace agreement and for Bentley's killer to be held accountable. Despite the protests, the high council of Hell still held up their end, and strongly opposed the idea of seeking any retaliation.

In a speech on the steps of the Underworld's Parliament Building, one of the members of the High Council said the following in a statement:

"Now is not the time for revenge. It is not the time for more killing. We need to focus on what good may come out of this situation, for the creatures of Hell. We need to focus on rebuilding."

...