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Charlie took her paperwork with her into the lobby, settling in at the front desk so she could read through the information Joel had provided. Most of it had nothing to do with her or hell: things about zoning in Heaven, new construction projects, new parks, additional amenities for winners and heavenborn alike. It was interesting, for sure, but not particularly useful. She focused on the sections to do with hell and the exterminations; apparently her mother had had a meeting with Joel, Sera and Adam nearly a decade ago to discuss the issue of overpopulation.
It seemed that a sinner had amassed enough power or happened upon the right skill to have gotten themselves to heaven’s gates—it was the instigating incident that had lead Sera to believe something needed to be done about the sinners. Charlie would have liked to know more about the dinner who had escaped, but all that was stated was that they were placed in Lilith’s custody to be handled accordingly; she disappointingly couldn’t even find a name in the documents.
The exterminations themselves were Adam’s idea, although apparently his initial proposal had been dubbed the ‘Clean Slate Protocol’ and featured a complete razing of the Pride Ring to wipe out every single existent sinner soul. The idea was horrifying; Lilith had negotiated for something more lenient, resulting in the annual nature of the Exterminations. Charlie supposed she should be grateful for that; comparatively, it really did seem to be the lesser of two evils—it was evil still, certainly, but it seemed things could have been so much worse.
The section on the Hazbin Hotel was fascinating, seeing her dream from an outsider’s perspective. There was an extensive portion regarding the trial headed by Sera, mentioning that while the head seraphim was unable to be persuaded others among the court were swayed by Charlie’s evidence. That was encouraging, knowing that Charlie was already earning supporters in Heaven.
Then there was Sir Pentious. Charlie’s heart felt so full, so thankful and overjoyed to know that her friend had survived somehow; he was impossibly out of reach, of course, but he was in a far better place. She was sure that with Emily there to look after him that he’d be safe and happy, settling in in no time. She couldn’t wait to tell everyone at the hotel the good news.
Charlie was so engrossed in consuming the abundant information in the papers that she didn’t notice one of the archangels approaching her until he spoke up.
“My, but you are a studious little thing, aren’t you?”
Charlie managed to jump even while seated, flushing darkly as she blinked up into the kind purple eyes of the elderly looking angel. She realized belatedly that she must seem very rude, ignoring all of her guests out here in the parlor. “I’m so sorry,” she gushed immediately, standing quickly and bumping the desk in the process, wincing and rubbing at her thighs absently where a bruise was sure to form. She wiped her sweaty palms against her pants in the same motion before hastily offering the archangel her hand. “I’m Charlie. But, um, you already knew that… um…”
The archangel took her hand; his skin was soft and smooth, almost cool to the touch and seeming almost papery in texture though his grip was strong—not enough to hurt, but carrying power nonetheless. “It’s quite alright, child,” he assured calmly, seeming a bit amused by her struggles though not in a malicious manner. “I am Uriel, the angel of wisdom. Won’t you join us?” He gestured behind himself to where the other archangels were gathered about on the plush sofas, some watching them outright while others spoke amongst themselves. It took Charlie a moment to locate Azrael; the angel of death was surprisingly close, scowling rather viciously at Uriel as the other awaited Charlie’s response.
“Uh…sure,” Charlie agreed after a moment, releasing Uriel’s hand to absently brush at her hair and straighten her jacket, hoping she looked presentable. The man smiled warmly at her before turning to rejoin the others; the Princess scrambled quickly around the front desk, following behind him toward the waiting group.
She hadn’t fully reached the group when she found herself in a tight embrace, the archangel with iridescent wings who had fawned over her before sweeping her into a tight hug. Though a good bit shorter than Charlie herself, the full figured, purple skinned angel lifted the Princess aloft in her embrace, spinning them both in a tight circle. “Oh! I’m just so excited to meet you!” they declared enthusiastically, pulling back to give Charlie a radiant smile. “I’m Jophiel, angel of word—you can call me Jojo if you want! Or just Jo. Auntie Jo?”
Charlie was a little overwhelmed by her energy; was this what people felt like around her? She awkwardly patted the angel’s dark green curls, offering an almost shy smile. “Thank you…Aunt Jophiel.” The title felt strange on her tongue, but she wasn’t about to refuse a chance to make a connection. “It’s good to meet you, too.”
Jophiel gave Charlie another tight squeeze before letting go, doing an excited little loop de loop in the air, feet kicking energetically mid air. “Can you all believe this? Lucifer’s little girl, our morningstar’s daughter!” She spun again midair, casting rainbow hued sparkles from her being over the others. The only thing stopping Charlie from being drenched in the colors was the sudden shield of black feathers wrapping protectively around her.
“You wanna take a seat, Jo?” Azrael groused, scowling up at the radiant being. “You’re ‘sparking joy’ all over the place.” He gave his wings a little shake, the colorful glitter raining down to the pastel carpet.
Jophiel rolled her eyes at her brother but settled back onto the couch with a cutesy little pout. “Spoil sport. I don’t see why Lucifer choose you to be the first to meet her.”
“Dad brought Azrael in to help me with the hotel,” Charlie answered quickly, trying to avoid any infighting. “He was really, really helpful, too—he showed me how to look at people’s souls, to see how they’re doing!”
“Ugh.” The angel seated alongside Jophiel made an expression of disgust; Charlie recognized her as the willowy, pale angel who had pulled Jo away when she’d become over excited in the meeting room. “No offense, little one, but I can’t imagine the human souls here are…much to look at.”
“Don’t be rude, Haniel,” Jophiel scolded, lightly elbowing the slight woman.
“It’s okay,” Charlie soothed quickly. “Haniel? Has a point. Sinner souls are damaged; it breaks my heart to know how much hurt and pain they’re carrying around.” She closed her eyes, remembering Angel and Husk’s souls, so beautiful even with the stains of their past. “But they are amazing , so lovely and so strong—they are absolutely worth knowing, even with all the damage they carry.”
“Oh.” Jophiel’s rosy eyes glistened with unshed tears, sniffing as she looked up at Charlie. “Oh, that’s beautiful—Hana, did you hear her? Did you?”
“I heard.” Haniel’s pale yellow eyes were soft, admiring the Princess of hell. “You truly care for these sinners, don’t you?”
“I do.” Charlie didn’t hesitate for a moment, tone firm and certain. “These sinners—they’re my people. I grew up surrounded by them; I know what they’re capable of. They can do terrible, awful things, sure, but they can also do so much good. And…and there’s something about that, about choosing to be good and kind while surrounded by ugliness. How can I not believe in them when they’re capable of that?”
Jophiel was fully crying now, dabbing at her eyes with her shirtsleeve. “That’s beautiful,” she murmured earnestly. “So beautiful.”
“It is a lovely dream, isn’t it?” Uriel mused thoughtfully, smile, indulgent. “It would be delightful if it could come true—but it’s hardly realistic, is it? You said yourself, Princess, that this place is full of ugliness. Perhaps you could pluck the diamond from the rough, cut and polish it to perfection, but would it truly be worth the effort?”
“Of course it would,” Charlie responded, affronted by the thought but trying not to let it color her answer. “All of the work is worth it, even if I only ever save a single soul. Even if no one else is ever redeemed, if Pentious is the only sinner ever to ascend—it’s worth it. And I’ll never, ever give up on my people; they’re worth it. They matter—they matter to me.”
“Such fire in this one.” One of the three oddly unsettling angels spoke up, the one with strange white eyes and dusty orange skin. “Such conviction, as in her father.”
“True, Zadkiel.” Another of the trio agreed, the one with deep yellow skin and pale lavender eyes. “But what sort of fire may it be? Will she be consumed as he had been?”
“It well may be; and yet, perhaps not.” This one was regarding Charlie with eerie black eyes, seeming more to look through her than at her. “Time will tell.”
Uriel sighed, shaking his head minutely. “Zadkiel, Raziel, Sariel—if your wish to participate in the discussion, would you be so kind as to actually do so rather than speaking in your own circle?”
Sariel, the black eyed angel, blinked at the angel of wisdom for a moment before a smile took their face; Charlie couldn’t help but think it seemed fake, more like a mask than an expression, a showing of teeth more than a true smile. “Apologies; we still forget, from time to time, that you young ones were made differently.”
Uriel scowled faintly before waving toward the trio, explaining to Charlie, “These are the eldest of us, along with Joel; while our Father certainly improved upon his initial design, the angels of mercy, magic and time are somewhat…unpolished, shall we say.”
Charlie thought that was a rather rude way for Uriel to describe his siblings, but it was probably equally rude to say so; instead, she offered the three elder angels a warm smile. “Well, it’s still lovely to meet all of you,” she stated confidently. “I can’t even begin to imagine everything you must have seen and done; I’d love to learn, if you ever want to share.”
The trio exchanged a look, seemingly communicating without words; Charlie felt a bit nervous, unsure of what might be going on behind their strangely blank eyes. Zadkiel nodded briefly and the three stood, leaving the little group gathered around Uriel; Zadkiel and Sariel each took a moment to rest a hand upon Charlie’s shoulder in their passing, but Raziel lingered longer to press a brief kiss upon her brow.
“You are blessed, child of the Morningstar.” Charlie couldn’t describe how she knew the words; she didn’t hear them or think them, she was just aware of them, like the knowledge had been imparted to her. There was a warmth in her chest similar to having a hot drink on a cool day, radiating out from her gut and leaving her feeling pleasantly buzzy and cozy; she blinked and Raziel’s soft purple eyes were different, impossibly deep and dark, full of swirling galaxies and nebulas that she could somehow see and feel, the heat of a supernova and the vast cold of empty space at once at peace within her being. She felt like she knew the universe, like everything was centered and steady and true; then she blinked again and it was gone, as though it had never happened.
The entire exchange was a few seconds at most, likely not even that; she was left feeling a bit dazed, watching the receding backs of the three elder angels before jumping as Remiel took her hand.
“They can be a little much sometimes,” the plump angel soothed gently. “Come here, sit by me; why don’t you tell us about yourself?” He patted the cushion next to himself invitingly; Charlie spared one more glance toward the others before she accepted the seat, Azrael perching on the arm of the sofa beside her.
“Thank you.” Charlie offered Remiel a smile, trying to shake off the strange experience she’d just had. “Yeah, of course; what do you want to know?”
Remiel shared a glance with his partner; Shebuel offered him a small smile before asking Charlie, “Are you happy? Living in hell?”
“Of course!” Charlie didn’t hesitate for a second. “I love it here; it’s my home. There are so many different people from all kinds of different backgrounds, there’s always something new to learn here.”
“You enjoy learning, I take it?” Urial mused, expression somewhat indulgent as he studied the Princess.
“Of course! It’s great learning new things,” Charlie enthused. “There’s so much to see and do in hell, especially here in the Pride ring. We’ve got dance halls, theaters, music venues, anything you could ever want!”
“So long as you don’t mind being surrounded by scum as you do it.” Charlie faltered at the interruption, looking over Haniel and Jophiel’s heads to the angel who stood behind them.
Camael was scowling at Charlie, letting his elbows rest on the furniture as he looked down at her. “The things you described can be found in any realm; even the mortal world has them,” he pointed out derisively. “Except there there’s at least a chance that you won’t be forced to rub elbows with some of the most loathsome creatures to have been given the gift of life.”
“That’s not fair,” Charlie argued immediately, “my people aren’t scum—sure, they’ve made some bad decisions, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t deserving of respect and capable of change. I’m sure if you gave them a chance—“
“They had their chance.” That was the strong voice of Raguel, looming large behind Camael despite the other being far from a lightweight himself. “Each and every sinner here in hell had the opportunity to do better in the living world. They sowed the seeds of their own destruction: now this is the garden in which they will rot.”
“But you don’t even know them,” Charlie insisted. “How can you judge them when—“
“I am the Angel of Justice.” Raguel’s wings snapped wide open, blocking the light from the windows, his voice thunderous and firm. “Judgment is my divine right. Questioning the nature of these souls is tantamount to questioning me. Do you doubt me, little star?”
Charlie struggled to think of how to respond, stammering as she searched for a way to reply that wouldn’t make things worse; before she could come up with anything, Azrael was standing defensively before her, his own black wings spread. Charlie noted absently that even at their full expanse, he seemed dwarfed by Raguel: like a crow challenging an eagle.
“Back off, Rags,” Azrael growled, blue eyes glowing in the shadows cast by the larger angel, “Charlie isn’t challenging you. She’s still learning—this isn’t about you, it’s about the sinners. She just wants to help them.”
“Rare as it is, Azrael is correct,” Uriel stated calmly, not appearing at all perturbed by his brothers’ bluster. “She’s just a little girl, barely two centuries old—why, when she was born mankind was still living in the dark. She needs a proper education, proper role models: it’s no wonder she’s a bit confused, having been brought up in this place. I dare say her mother’s influence couldn’t have helped much, either.”
“But Uriel.” The slim, pale angel Cassiel leaned on the back of his chair, murmuring, “She is her mother’s daughter. She’s already lead one angel astray; it cannot be safe to allow her into heaven, around more impressionable souls.”
“Okay, can we maybe try not to bad mouth my mom, please?” Charlie tried to interject, not liking the direction the conversation was being steered. “This isn’t about me or my place; I’m happy here. I just want to make things better for my people.”
“They get what they deserve,” Camael retorted, clearly not moved by anything Charlie had to say. “Frankly, I’d say they have it too good, here. If any changes need to be made, this pit should be made worse .”
“That isn’t your call,” Remiel piped up, brow furrowed. “That isn’t any of our call. We decided long ago that we were to leave hell be, only interfering when necessary for the good of the whole of creation.”
“Perhaps that was a mistake.” Raphael had been quiet for most of the discussion; his voice was low even now. “Perhaps we have let this place stew for too long. If it is to be viewed as a garden, as Raguel described…then perhaps Adam was correct to suggest some pruning?”
“How can you say that?” Charlie questioned, getting to her feet and pushing past Azrael to address Raphael directly. “Especially now that we all know redemption is possible, how could you possibly still think these people deserve death?”
“I do not claim to know what is the best method with which to handle every soul,” Raphael amended quickly. “Merely that it is unwise to think every soul can be saved—surely it is worth the lives of the few to save the souls of the many?”
“Raph is right,” Cassiel agreed, stepping back to somewhat hide behind her brother, “there are monsters here. If you really care about your people, you’d want to truly fix it.”
“I care about all my people,” Charlie argued. “I’m not going to barter souls—it isn’t my place, isn’t anyone’s place. I’m not a god.”
“None of us are.” The room fell quiet, Raguel and Azrael lowering their defensive stances as Michael looked out from the doorway. “Come; we have reached a conclusion.” He waved a hand back toward the meeting room, where Joel and Gabriel waited. Charlie felt her heart sinking as several of the archangels marched in ahead without so much as a backward glance—Cassiel, Raguel, Camael, Raphael, even Uriel only spared a brief, somewhat condescending pat to her head before he went back to the table.
The Princess managed a small smile when Jophiel pulled her into a tight hug, nodding appreciatively to Haniel as the two followed after the others. Shebuel took her hand in both of his, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze before letting go, joining Remiel as they returned to their places. The three elder angels were fell into place, leaving Charlie and Azrael alone in the lobby.
“We don’t have to stay,” he whispered in her ear, arms curling around her shoulders, brilliant blue eyes guarded as he glowered at Michael’s waiting figure. “We can go anywhere—I’ll protect you, Princess. I’ll take you anywhere in creation; you don’t have to put up with their shit, neither of us do.”
The Princess closed her eyes, taking a slow, deep breath. She could feel Azrael’s soul curling around her, a cool breeze brushing her essence. If she reached out further she could feel more—something cold like steel but fluid as water, a sensation like paint on the skin, the pleasant burn of well worked muscles and the exciting lurch of the stomach upon a roller coaster’s first drop. These weren’t monsters, weren’t insurmountable obstacles: they were just people. They were her family and she was not going to walk away.
Charlie’s shoulders squared beneath Azrael’s loose embrace, taking a moment to straighten her tie and settle her pearls before shaking her head. “Not a chance; I’m not backing out, now or ever,” she stated firmly, starting toward Michael and the waiting meeting beyond, pausing only once to look back. “Are you with me?”
Azrael sighed, nodding briefly. “Yeah, I’m coming,” he muttered, following behind the child of the Morningstar to face the rest of his siblings beyond.