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Dream found the Morningstar on the veranda of a bar and grill in Hawai'i, of all places.
The bar was sandwiched between hotels and other dining establishments along a beachfront on O'ahu. It was just past sunset, and artificial lights and tiki torches flickered up and down the shore. The Morningstar sat alone at a table, stirring a straw through a colorful frozen drink until the colors blended together. They wore a bright yellow sun dress and a blood red hibiscus flower tucked behind their ear.
Dream manifested in the shadows outside the ring of torchlight. Lucifer watched him approach with a lazy smile.
“Dream,” they said brightly, as if pleasantly surprised to see him. Hardly anyone was ever pleased to see Dream, least of all the Morningstar given their history, but they had always made a mask of a smile: polite on the surface but with sharp teeth behind it.
They gestured to the chair across from them. “Please sit. How have you been? I heard you gave up the key. I can’t say I blame you. I’m almost sad I missed the party, but as you can see…” They raised their drink in a mock toast. “…I’m quite busy these days.”
“Lucifer. I am…fine. And yourself?”
“Very much enjoying my retirement.”
Dream looked around. “This is all you intend? To drink on a beach? To live as humans do?”
“As humans do?” They scoffed. “Hardly. Most humans waste years of their lives working their bodies to an early grave for money. They are trapped by their struggle to meet the basic needs of their flesh. The rat race, some of them call it. No. I live as someone who does not need to bother with mortal, material concerns, only material pleasures! Mankind has created their own Paradise on Earth, for those with the means to experience it. And beings such as us have the means.”
Dream raised an eyebrow. “So you are merely a hedonist now? A far cry from the monarch of Hell.”
“What was my crown but a burden I did not want? What good was my power when I took no pleasure in it? That’s the popular idea of me, is it not? The Devil is a creature of indulgence, of temptations!” They rolled their eyes. “As if I tempted them to do anything. As if I cared what ridiculous things they consider sinful. Truly, they made their own Hell, and I was the one stuck holding them to the fires.” They sighed, shaking their head. “Even here, humans pollute this paradise, raise towers of glass and concrete, monuments to consumerism and excess. Greedy, gluttonous tourists travel here to gawk at endangered sea turtles, meanwhile the lights from the same hotels they stay in are helping drive them to extinction. The native people cannot afford to live off the land of their ancestors because it was developed into hotels and attractions for foreigners.”
A waitress approached to deliver another drink. Lucifer gave the girl a polite smile. “Thank you, this is excellent service.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am, please let me know if there is anything else you need. I’ll be back by to check on you in a bit.” She never glanced in Dream’s direction, as if the Endless wasn’t even there.
As the waitress walked away Lucifer’s eyes followed. “Look at her. Toiling away with that customer service smile. She must hate working here. Nothing but entitled assholes on vacation. I bet this drink costs more than she makes in an hour. Humans are truly cruel to design such a system. But you are well familiar with the cruelties of humans."
Dream did not reply, but the thin line of his mouth told the Morningstar their words had hit their mark.
"You will be pleased to know that prior to my abdication, Roderick Burgess had crafted himself a most fitting punishment. When last I saw him he was tormented by a demon who took the appearance of his precious firstborn and would shame him for the depraved depths his father sunk to in which to restore him to life. Sometimes, when the poor Magus was feeling especially guilty, he'd imagine himself in that fishbowl of yours." The Morningstar's smile was pure sadism. "I'd invite you to come see for yourself, but I don't have a door key anymore."
"I'm sure Lucifer Morningstar knows more than one secret path into Hell."
They winked. "That would be telling. Can't imagine I'll ever want to go back though. It was Hell for me, too."
In his mind's eye, Dream saw Roderick Burgess suspended in crystal and cold iron. He recalled the icy chill of the curved wall, the unnatural silence of the airless space, could picture every rivet and soldered seam now enclosed around Burgess like a fist. It was a familiar fantasy for Dream, the never ending nightmare he had longed to craft for Burgess upon his escape. It was...satisfying to hear that Burgess now reaped in death what he'd sown in life, but Dream had always been vengeful. Something he and the Morningstar had in common, though now it made Dream cringe in shame.
“Do you know why I decided to abandon Hell, Dream?”
Dream. Not of the Endless. Not Lord Morpheus. It was the most informal they had been with Dream in eons, as if there were not titles and power and history between them. Just two people talking in a bar on a beach, insignificant and unnoticed amongst the teeming mass of humanity.
“I had an epiphany. A Revelation.” They licked their lips, and their eyes were wide with the madness of one who had seen too much.
“I realized the reason for everything. Why suffering exists. Why bad things happen to good people. Why I Fell.”
They leaned in across the table, looking Dream in the eye as they imparted their wisdom.
“You see: God…is an author.” They paused, letting their statement land like an atomic bomb, the flash of light before the wave of fire and devastation to follow. “She wanted to tell a story, and to do that She needed to create a universe. She needed to create characters to tell Her story. We…” Lucifer waved their hand, at themselves, and Dream, at the humans populating the bar and beach around them, “…are all her characters! She decided our names, our roles, if we live well or suffer. Some people never amount to anything in their lives, never get their happy ending because they are background characters, you see? Some of us are main characters. And some of us…” They licked their lips, as predatory as a wolf, eyes still locked with Dream’s, “…are villains. Every good story needs a conflict, right? And who doesn’t love a well written bad guy? And the best bad guy of all is the Adversary. It’s in the name.”
They leaned back in their seat, point made. They finished off the last bit of their old drink and picked up the new one. “Humans really are clever, aren’t they? Ever had a Mai Tai?” They took a sip and made a little pleased hum at the taste.
“I have not.”
“Yes, you don’t really seem like the tropical cocktail type.” They took another sip, eyes briefly falling closed to savor the simple mortal pleasure of it. “Wonderful. But I digress, let me continue:
“For a long time, I thought She cast me out as punishment. That the Free Will she gifted to mankind I had somehow wrested from Her grasp and used to rebel against her, and she’d punished me for it. But it was all part of Her plan. Destiny had already written Her story into his book, and my roll in it. So you see, She does love us! Us, Her creations, are Her favorite characters. But She also wants to hurt us.” For the first time since they began speaking, they placid serenity they had worn plastered over their face fell away into a sneer of utter contempt, the flames of white hot rage flickering in their eyes. “For the good of the narrative.”
Dream, who knew the god the Morningstar spoke of was not the creator of the Endless, but merely a dream that had come to power when enough dreamers believed, remained silent. This god would one day die as all gods did, when enough Christians lost faith or enough humans died, to be supplanted by a more poplar deity, maybe from the dreams of some other species even. Only Destiny knew if Lucifer would survived Her end and live on in the minds of man, as folk tale or pop culture icon. But this knowledge would not bring Lucifer comfort, even if Dream was the type to offer it, because Lucifer was not imagined to know it.
Lucifer continued, obviously to Dream’s thoughts. “I just didn’t want to be in Her story anymore. I got tired of my role. Being the villain is…lonely. I loved Her, and She used me to further Her plot along. She didn’t care how it hurt, to cast me out, forever turned away from Her grace. And I let it hurt me for billions of years. I got tired of hurting, Dream. I had to move on. I couldn’t do that as long as I was letting Her control my life.”
They smirked. “So I quit my miserable job! Decided to travel for a bit, go find myself. That’s what the humans say now.” They plucked the maraschino cherry from their drink and crushed it between their teeth, red juice spilling over their lips. “Honestly Dream, you should give it a try. Let the Dreaming fend for itself for a bit, take a vacation. Doesn’t need to be for a hundred years this time, just maybe a week. I’m confident nothing in the Dreaming will decay that quickly.”
The stars in Dream’s eyes went supernova. “You mock me?”
“Not at all, I am being completely sincere. Sorry it's hard to believe that about me.” They shrugged. “I know the Devil’s reputation is to lie. As if the truth doesn’t hurt enough.”
“You have always been a master of twisting the truth to suit your purposes."
"You and I both know that 'truth' is subjective. Believe me or not, Dream; it doesn’t make a difference. My purpose now is to be happy. I’m not going back. Maybe someday you’ll give happiness a try, too.” They took a final sip of their drink before standing. Reaching into the small purse sitting on the table, they tucked several bills under the glass.
“Farewell, Dream. Give me a call if you’re ever free. I’ll buy you a drink.”
They stepped off the wooden deck of the veranda and out onto the beach. Bending over, they removed their sandals, and left them laying by the steps to walk barefoot through the sand and surf.
Dream watched them go until they were a speck on the horizon. He picked up the sandals, and imagined the feeling of warm sand between his toes.