their realm, maintain the balance, and hunt those that break the Accords.”
“So those angels were lookin’ for that Morax guy?” I ask, and Alder nods.
“Seems like it,” Flint confirms.
“Why?”
Alder and Flint both shrug.
“He must have broken an Accord of some sort. We usually police our own, but if the Legion is involved, then he must’ve done something big,” Flint supplies.
“What are the Accords?” I ask.
“We’d be here all night if you want me to list them line by line, but more or less, anything that affects the careful balance between Heaven and Hell, or messes with a soul’s free will, is against our laws,” Alder explains.
“We all got our part to play, but if we don’t follow the agreements made between Heaven and Hell about the mortal souls we’ve all sworn to watch over, then there are serious consequences,” Flint adds, and there’s a sadness to his voice as he explains this, as though he knows firsthand what those consequences are.
“Wait,” I interrupt. “Hell is supposed to watch over souls too? I thought the Devil wanted to burn everythin’ to the ground because he’s all jealous and mad because God liked us better?”
Flint and Alder both just blink at me for a second before they snort out some laughs.
“My grandfather was guarding Avarice back when those rumors first started,” Flint declares, lookin’ at Alder. “He said they laughed and thought for sure no soul would believe such a ridiculous story about our origins. Then, next thing you know, the mortals are writing books about it like it’s fact. He said the Morning Star couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or impressed at how well Heaven’s propaganda worked. They’ve been winning misguided souls ever since.”
Alder laughs. “I believe it. My ancestors were always impressed with the way Heaven sowed mistrust so that their job was easier. They clearly didn’t know that Hell is always up for a good challenge. How else did we end up on different sides of this issue?”
“True story, brother. True story,” Flint agrees on a chuckle.
“Yeah, you lost me,” I insert as I watch their exchange of amusement.
“You take this one; I haven’t had to explain it in a while, and I’m rusty,” Flint tells Alder, who just rolls his eyes.
He fixes his stunnin’ butterscotch colored irises on me and studies my face for a beat before divin’ in. “God was given this world and all the souls in it to watch over. The Morning Star and God did have different ideas about how to nurture the souls and help them progress, but it didn’t divide Heaven, because both ideas worked. Demons weren’t cast out like naughty children there was no hope for, we volunteered for our role.”
“You did?” I ask, surprised. No gospel teacher I’ve ever heard said anythin’ like this.
Alder dips his chin down. “We knew sacrifices needed to be made in order to sow souls worthy of Godhood themselves, and so we agreed to take up the mantle, and Hell was born,” he explains.
I blink at him, tryin’ to see if this information helps. “Nope. Still lost,” I confess.
Flint chuckles. “The entire purpose of a soul is to learn and do better. The religions got that much correct. But the end goal isn’t just Heaven. A soul should progress so far through their lives that eventually they become a God themselves and are given their own world to watch over one day. We’re here to help that happen. We tempt, and coerce, coax and lure, not because we want a soul’s destruction, but so they can learn and grow from it. Eventually, a soul won’t be influenced by us at all, and then they’re ready for the tiers of Heaven and beyond.”
I gape at Flint.
Alder makes a disgruntled noise in his throat. “You went too big, too fast. Mortal minds can’t handle the whole I’m supposed to become a God thing or the thought that there are more worlds out there like theirs,” Alder tells him, as if he should’ve known.
“But she asked. Besides, not all the others use the same system we do here,” Flint counters.
“Trust me. See that blank stare she’s doing?” They both look over at me before turnin’ back at each other. “...She’s not ready to hear that either.”
I rub my temples. “I feel like I’m halfway through an episode of the Twilight Zone and I don’t have any idea what’s goin’ on, but I could use a beer.”
Flint looks at me with amusement. “We just picked you up from