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“Etertiny Brings Suffering Leaves”
“...Now you see they don’t bother you that much,” Ixael hummed, carefully stepping around the shallow pools of coagulating blood that welled from the brittle trees. “Puppets are puppets, they won’t attack what Hell doesn’t want to.”
“They’re puppets of what, exactly?” Gabriel asked, his gaze darting between the formless gore.
“Hell.”
“What?”
“That’s—that’s who controls them. Hell does.”
“...Hell? Hell puppeteers the…” His voice faltered as he looked down at the sickly crimson that stuck to the bottom of his golden boots. His halo bled into a pale white for a few moments before ebbing away into nothing more than a light blue. “How is that possible?”
Ixael barked out a short bout of laughter. “Save those questions for when we get to Fraud, Gabriel. You haven’t seen anything yet,” the demon assured, their tail swaying as they came to rest beside one of the trees. They pat the ground beside them, staring up at him with a giddy smile.
“Isn’t this… Disrespectful?” Gabriel asked, his voice going up an octave as he spoke.
“What, because there’s souls in here?” Ixael replied, knocking twice with a black claw on the still bark.
“Yeah.”
“Most of them have long since lost it,” the demon reassured, the corner of their lips forming into a smile. “Being in one o’ these for more than even a week is enough to drive you mad, and how long has the Forest of Suicides been around?”
“...Since the beginning.”
“Exactly, whenever that was.”
“I don’t remember, actually. My memory betrays me,” Gabriel admitted, tilting his head back to where the back of his helm hit the tree, and he stared up at the vibrant red sky and shriveled black leaves danced in the air. Ixael looked up as well, their gaze, through the slits in their helm, fixed on the crimsons that cast a soft red glare upon them.
“...Do you like it here?” The fallen angel asked after a few moments of comfortable silence.
“Hmm?”
“Do you like the Forest of Suicides?”
Ixael laughed. “Not at all, this place gives me the creeps. I would say how the amount of souls here that you can’t see scares me, but that goes for every layer. Especially Gluttony.”
Gabriel hummed. “I see,” he murmured. “Yes, the idea of Gluttony does scare me, but it is the justifiable punishment for sinners of that nature.”
“You sure I wouldn’t have better ideas?” Ixael chuckled.
“The Father is always right,” the fallen angel hummed.
“You say this to a demon, y’know?” They grumbled, their tail thumping against the ground irritably.
Gabriel turned to Ixael, stared wordlessly for a few moments, before countering, “you know what I’m known for as an angel, right?”
Ixael snorted. “I don’t know, what were you known for⸺oh…”
The angel crossed his arms, a smile in his voice. “I was known for guiding sinners to redemption, was I not?” He asked.
Ixael put a hand against their temples. “I read about that back in Wrath,” they whined. “How did I forget?”
The fallen angel laughed. “Too amazed by my excellent piano playing? Or was it that ‘Angels Gone Wild’ magazine that swept you away?” He chuckled
Ixael pushed his shoulder playfully. “Come on, just an hour ago you were downplaying all of that!” The demon jeered.
“Oh yes, Ixael, I’m downplaying the lust I totally have,” Gabriel rebutted sarcastically, laying himself over Ixael’s lap with the back of his wrist against his forehead dramatically. “Oh, you demon, I cannot keep these desires within me for any longer!”
“Stop, stop!” Ixael guffawed, pushing Gabriel off of them while still reeling with giddy laughter. Their chortling gave way to a breathless wheeze, the demon feeling their face flush as they keeled over and held up a finger to Gabriel in the universal motion of ‘one second.’
“Amzyalla tenbrasi, gimme a sec’, I’m…” Ixael stammered. “My chest hurts.”
Gabriel leaned back and smiled, his wings turning a soft gold that made the pale grass around them shimmer a beautiful orange.
…
…
…
Judging by the amount of silence that followed their laughing fit, Ixael concluded that Gabriel was about to change the subject in the most morbid, off-topic way possible.
“...Do you think Uriel and Raphael are okay?” He asked.
I knew it.
“Heaven’s alright right now, isn’t it? No machines there,” Ixael mused.
“No machines there yet,” Gabriel added, the color in his wings washing away into swirling blues and whites, just like how they looked whenever they first entered the Garden of Forking Paths. “I’m just… Scared. After the death of Michael, the absence of the Father… I believe anything can happen now.”
“Angels’ll become prime souls before those two are ever dead,” Ixael assured. “I’m sure they know what’s best for them, they’ll stay in Heaven.”
Gabriel silently nodded.
“Alright?” Ixael called, putting a hand on his back.
“Alright,” he echoed quietly, though apprehension stained his tone.
The two turned their gazes back towards the red sky, letting themselves listen to nothing more than the sway of leaves and distant rattle of artillery.