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Husk cursed to himself as he followed Alastor into the scrubland that marked the crater of a long-dead volcano. The ground was charred dust and ash, pockmarked with brittle charcoal sticks.
“I thought Mt. Forsaken or Mt. Doom whatever the shit this thing is called was dormant. It looks like some firebug has been up here torching the place!”
His toes caught under a gnarled root, almost sending him to the ground. “Fuck! Al, we’d better be close to whatever you’ve got your tail in a twist about. I’m just about at my damned limit on this thing.”
Alastor made a non-commital sing-song noise in reply. The Radio Demon was as sure-footed as a mountain goat as he blazed a trail on the uneven ground. He barely paused to summon his staff, which he employed as a makeshift walking stick. The magical tool’s single eye darted about to take in their surroundings before settling on Husk.
“What a lovely night for a stroll! And with such scintillating company!”
Husk snorted as Al lightly thumped the mic on its casing, causing a momentary squeal of feedback.
“We now return to our regularly-scheduled programming,” the microphone announced in a more demure manner before falling silent. It almost seemed to be sulking.
“You’re telling on yourself, Al,” Husk chuckled. “That thing don’t seem to be able to keep itself muted these days.”
Alastor’s back stiffened at the words, but he said nothing. Encouraged, Husk continued. Al owed him some entertainment for this exhausting fiasco. His back was aching, his feet were killing him, and the mysterious act that his husband was putting on had taken too many encores.
“Maybe if I ask the mic it’ll tell me what we’re doing out here in this mess,” the chimera sighed. “Seems like that’s the only hope I have of getting any answers out of you.”
Alastor stopped, dismissing his staff. For a moment, Husk wondered if he’d offended his flighty husband. When Alastor turned, he was like a scarlet statue, framed by the crimson light of the distant Seal of Judgement that hung in the sky overhead. He reached down and picked something from the ground. His voice was almost a whisper when he spoke.
“Husker, my heartsong, humor me for only a moment longer.”
When Al looked up to meet Husk’s gaze, there was something anticipatory in his eyes. He was holding a thin stick in his hands. It was blackened and withered, with an ugly lump on the end of it.
“Just a moment longer,” Al pleaded. Husk found himself stepping closer without thinking, as if the softly-spoken words had reached into his core and pulled.
“What is this, Al? You drag me out here in the middle of the night, make me hike up a mountain we could have teleported or flown to the top of, and now you’re… showing me sticks? What is this? Talk to me, Dear Hart.”
Al’s eyes shone all the brighter with the fond nickname. Their spinel on red diamond demonic glow threatened to set the night on fire.
“I didn’t want to disturb the fireflies,” Alastor whispered. “We’ve come to see a truly marvelous show, love!”
A quivering mote of pale light wobbled it’s way up from the ground beneath them. As Husk watched, another one rose its uncertain way into the air. Husk felt his mouth fall open as dozens upon dozens of weak, wobbling spheres of light began to pour from cracks in the dry, charred ground all around them. It was like watching tiny, weak stars be birthed from the wasted ground! He’d never seen Hellish fireflies in this faint state!
The dimly glowing baubles of light strengthened beneath the glow of the Seal, sparking and then fully igniting into balls of familiar airborne ghost flame.
“This is only the opening act,” Al confided as Husk gaped, open-mouthed, at the display. “Hold tight, my darling. You’re about to see a real humdinger of a performance. Not to worry, though! Their flame is quite safe, you know- no matter how fiercely it burns. Hands out!”
Husk extended his hands in front of his chest and found Alastor positioning the end of the stem he was holding between them. With a few gentle nudges from Al, Husk found himself sheltering the stick between his heart-marked palms.
“Al, what..?”
“Shhh!”
Being shushed was irritating, but Husk obediently fell silent. As the pair of them watched, a few of the brightest balls of light drew near. The stick trembled in Alastor’s hand, drawing Husk’s sharp eyes as it shivered and splintered.
A few shards fell away like singed toothpicks as the duo watched. Thin petioles extended from the stem, extending narrow, blade-like yellow-green leaves. At the end of the little stick, char fell away to reveal a lone rounded bud.
A single burning firefly, previously unnoticed during this metamorphosis, alighted on this apical point. The bud was instantly enveloped in flame, nearly sending the startled Husk into the air.
Alastor was almost laughing, urgently whispering “Watch! Don’t miss this, Husker!”
Husk steeled his nerves and held himself steady. There was no heat or discomfort from their close proximity to the flame. The barest ticklish whisper rustled against the edges of his soul’s shell as the bud opened in an eruption of intense light.
His mouth was hanging open again. Husk knew it very well, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to care in the face of the blazing flower that was crackling between them. He’d never seen anything like it, not in all of his afterlife- and considering that he was married to Alastor, that was saying something!
“Hm.”
Husk found himself looking past the miraculous miniature pyre blossoming between them to see his husband’s thoughtful expression. His Al’s face was gentle as he regarded the heatless flower burning between them. His eyes were half-lidded, lending his gaze an almost dreamy air.
“It seems so dim,” Alastor sighed softly. “I thought this would be a true show-stopper of a sight, but instead the phoenix flowers have only the softest light. They are but faint glimmers compared to the inferno of my devotion to you, Husker.”
Husk’s heart ticked over sideways for a moment in dizzy, adoring euphoria before he dropped his hands to his sides. Alastor mildly tossed the fading fireball of a flower into the air, allowing it to fall and extinguish. He took the smallest step backwards, followed by two more. Husk pursued.
“You brought me up here in the middle of nowhere, miles up the side of this inhospitable burnt-up crag, to dazzle me with unholy fireworks and then you use a line like THAT on me?!”
Alastor turned and ran, a bright red streak that raced through the phoenix flowers bursting into full bloom around them. He was cackling like the lunatic he was, shrieking his victory to Hell’s false stars. The fireflies rose in his wake, surging for the endless garnet sky.
Husk watched him go for a moment, marveling. Hell was full of magic. How extraordinary that he’d found some as powerful as the bond he and Al shared!
He set his face in a mocking sneer as he raised his wings. “Get back here, you asshole! You think you’re hot stuff now? Just wait’ll I drop you into one of the active volcanoes!”