“Both?”
I shudder even as a little hysterical giggle escapes my mouth.
“Fine,” I acquiesce. “I guess I could start by eating something.”
“Wise decision. I think broth would be prudent given your state.”
A bowl of clear soup appears on my nightstand, spoon and everything, and I yelp, jumping out of bed. I immediately have to sit back down, dizzy from hunger and pressure change.
“How the hell did you do that?” I screech.
Daniel leans back, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Stay here long enough, and I’ll show you,” he says, mirroring his earlier statement.
“I-I could do that?” I ask, dumbfounded.
He nods, and I don’t see any deceit in his pale eyes. “It is highly likely. It may take decades or even centuries?—”
“Centuries?” I interrupt, taken aback. “I’m going to live for centuries?”
Daniel blinks. “Ah, did no one explain things to you?”
“I heard some of… Maalik’s speech the day Corson brought me here. It wasn’t heavy on the positives. If you could even call it a positive. What’s the point in living for a long time if you do it suffering?”
“You are wise beyond your years,” Daniel says with an odd smile. “Most young humans would rejoice at the prospect of virtual immortality.”
“Most humans have had a kinder life,” I mumble, finally reaching for the soup and finding it at the perfect temperature. I ignore the spoon and bring the bowl to my lips.
“Slowly,” Daniel warns. “We could do some porridge if this goes down well.”
“Tastes so good,” I mumble between sips, making the angel chuckle.
“I haven’t been accused of cooking well in centuries until you Elioud showed up.” At my questioning look, he continues, “We don’t need to eat. Some of us do, those that spent years in demonic courts, especially.”
I put the empty bowl down and sigh. “I have so much to learn, I guess.”
“And you will. All of you will.” He stands up and offers me his hand. “Allow me to show you your new home. If you want, you can talk to some of the Elioud. Perhaps a few of them will be your teammates for centuries to come.”
“How about that porridge first?” I ask, trying to smile at him. He’s just so disarming, I can’t be mad at him. Maybe I’ll channel that anger into Corson. Though he was only following orders, wasn’t he?
“Tell me about who decided to bring us here,” I order as Daniel hands me another bowl that’s magically full of food. I take the spoon this time, mixing the honey into the oats.
Daniel clears his throat and sits again, seemingly getting ready to launch into a tale.
“About five thousand years ago, the war between Heaven and Hell, one that was believed to be an eternal conflict, finally came to a tentative truce. A council of angels and demons was formed.”
“That’s a long time ago,” I comment after swallowing my first spoonful—as delicious as the soup.
“Not for those who fought on the battlefields for millennia,” Daniel explains. “For them, five thousand years is a blink of an eye.”
“I see,” I mumble, looking down at my food. I can’t imagine such a thing. I’m not sure I want to. “So why did it finally stop?”
“A compromise was achieved. Archdemons were no longer free to roam the human world. And Hell’s denizens would receive an unending supply of their food source.”
My stomach twists despite the appetizing food. “Which is?”
“Human sin,” Daniel answers. “Every human soul that wasn’t deserving of Heaven would come to Hell. Some would come here, to Purgatory. This neutral pocket was created at the end of that conflict from a small piece of an archdemon’s territory.”
