***

Guerren squinted as he stepped inside. The only sign he wasn’t outside anymore was the change in terrain. Here the floor was smooth, and his boots made only a soft thud on impact.

He closed his tearing eyes as the screams echoed through his mind. His nostrils flared as the acrid scent of sulfur filled the air and heat burned his skin, leaving a trail of sweat that dripped down his chest, spine, and legs as he backed toward the door. “I think I made a mistake. I’ll just leave the way I came, and you do whatever you’re doing without me.”

“Please stay. The fires can’t burn you since they don’t really exist here,” said a woman he couldn’t see.

“Then why do I feel their heat?” Before he fell, fire couldn’t hurt him. It obeyed him instead, but that was when everyone feared and revered him as a god of war. Now he was weak and trapped in this infernal realm. His ears rang with the screams of the damned, and they were a constant reminder of his fall from grace.

“I can’t help it if your memories burn.”

Scorched earth surrounded him. Leafless trees smoked in the distance like extinguished torches. In the middle of that destruction, a woman in white robes stood. She looked out of place amidst the seared landscape, but she didn’t rectify that either. Her slanted glowing violet eyes fixed on him and tried to pin him in place with her implacable stare. But he’d long ago become immune to that thanks to a pantheon of eternally squabbling gods.

“Who are you?” Guerren stepped toward her, then stopped. What am I doing? This is probably a trap. But he didn’t turn away. There was nowhere to run anyway, so he might as well stay here and find out what she wanted.

“Like you, I have many names. Some are even accurate.” She grimaced and her hair cascaded like a waterfall of rippling darkness behind her. Good God, she was beautiful, but so were all the angels.

“Give me one of your names.” Uncertainty filled Guerren as he approached her. She had the violet eyes of an angel. Was she an ascendant angel visiting from Heaven, a demon pretending to be an angel or a fallen angel? Either way, she was trouble.

“Some call me the Sleeping Angel. Will that suffice?” She watched him, but her solemn expression didn’t change.

“Yes, that will do for now, but I hope to earn another name soon.” Guerren wanted to smack himself. Where was this coming from? Probably from the hard length in his pants. He covered it with his hands. Although it was probably already too late. She must know the effect she had on him.

“Perhaps you will one day but not today.”

“Why did you want to talk to me?” Because if it was to banter, then this was a waste of time. I should put as much space between us as possible before morning.

“You fought on the wrong side, Guerren,” she said. Her voice was a seductive melody that sent shivers down his spine. “The Fallen took your power, and they used it to take over this realm and turn it into Hell.” She spread her arms, and bones surrounded them.

“Whose bones are these?” Guerren tried not to step on any. The dead deserved better than this, but he couldn’t gather up thousands of bones and bury them with the proper rites.

“They also enslaved the natives of this realm, and these are their bones.”

“Why are you showing me this? It all happened a long time ago, and it wasn’t my doing.” There wasn’t anyone to save, just bones crunching under his feet no matter how carefully he stepped. His heart pounded in his chest. She offered him a chance at redemption, but she hadn’t delivered on it yet. Maybe she never would. This might be a setup to trap him so the Fallen could bleed more of his power.

“There’s a rebellion, and I want you to help them overthrow the Adversary and return this realm to its rightful ruler, me.” She rested a long, bony hand on her chest. “Help them and redeem yourself in the process.”

She waved her hand, and an image materialized before them of a motley crew of gods, demons, and mortals, united in their quest for freedom. For the first time since he fell, hope blossomed in his chest. Not for redemption, but for a chance to strike the Adversary and pay him back for all his deceptions and lies.

“How can I help them?” He backed away from the images.

“Go to the Library of Forbidden Knowledge and find the Book of Names. It holds the true names of everyone in Hell.”

“And names have power.” He nodded as he considered it. Getting inside would be a challenge and finding that book would be an even bigger one. But he was sorely in need of a challenge.

“Yes, they do.”

“Is your name in there?”

“Perhaps it is.” She glanced away and bit her lower lip.

“Are the names of the Fallen in there too?” Guerren circled her until he could look her in the eyes again.

“Yes, we can use their names to bind them and ultimately defeat them, but we need your help to get it.”

Could he do this? If I still had my powers, then yes, it would be easy. But without them, he didn’t know if he could get into the library and out again without getting caught and sent back to the spire. I still have my fighting skills, but I lost a lot of my strength.

“What do I get if I do this? Do you have a one-way ticket to Heaven in your pocket?” Guerren pointed at her white robe.

“Is that what you want?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

The question caught him off guard. What do I want? Guerren didn’t know. “Why should I believe anything you say? How do I know you’re not just another fallen angel trying to manipulate me?”

Her eyes softened. Perhaps she understood his hesitation. “You have every reason to doubt me. I’m here to restore balance, not perpetuate chaos, but I can’t prove it. Not now because this is just a dream, and I can twist it to suit my needs, but that won’t prove anything to you. Find me after you deliver the book to the rebels. Wake me up, and I’ll tell you how to defeat the Prince of Lies.”

She raised her hand and whispered an incantation. A shimmering portal materialized before them, revealing the dark alley he left minutes before. “You must go before a patrol finds you.”

Was there a body slouched against the wall? Yes, there was, and it was his battered body. The bitter taste of betrayal lingered in his mouth. Guerren clenched his fists, and anger boiled within him because he was looking at himself.

“The Fallen stole my throne and imprisoned me. Together, we can reclaim what we lost.” The fire in her eyes spoke of a shared desire for justice.

Guerren cast caution to the wind. If he couldn’t help a beautiful woman, then what good was he?

“I’ll help your rebellion.” As he said that, the weight of his decision settled on his shoulders like a bag of bricks. “Together, we will restore peace to this realm.”

The woman nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude and determination. “Thank you. Now, go. Find the Book of Names so we can fight the darkness that consumed this world.”

Guerren searched her eyes for any sign of deception. He felt a strange connection to her, a pull that went beyond mere physical attraction. But what did he really have to lose? Nothing because he had nothing now. “All right. If I find out you’re lying, I’ll make you pay for it.”

A faint smile played on her lips as she replied, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a god of war. Now go. My fate’s in your hands.”

“You might regret that before long.” Guerren would get the book and take it to her people. If nothing else, it would give him a destination and a place to go. Then he’d see about waking her up and finding out if what she said was true. But first, he’d look through the book of names and keep a few for himself, just in case.

“The rebellion awaits you,” she whispered, and his heart raced as she reached under her robe and pulled out a pendant etched with symbols that glinted in the orangey light. “This won’t protect you. Nothing can now, but it’ll help you find the rebels.” She offered it to him, and her gaze never wavered.

As Guerren reached out to take the pendant, the woman stepped forward and her lips brushed against his like a promise.

“Trust no one.” The woman vanished, leaving him standing alone in an empty room.

He stared at the pendant in his hand, feeling its weight and the deal he just struck. One book of names for one chance to strike back at the author of his miserable state. Not a bad deal.

Well, you agreed to this. So you’d best get to it. Guerren stepped through the doorway back into the alley as a hot wind blew past him, sending trash flying.

Distant laughter echoed through the alley. It was a sinister reminder that the Fallen were always watching. This was a path to what? Did he actually think that helping this rebellion would do anything to change his Fate?

No, I don’t think anything can do that now. But just having a purpose filled him with strength and made him feel more like himself than he’d felt in a long time. Determination fired him up as he strode toward that laughter. After all, what was a little danger to a former war god?

I’ve fought more battles than any of the Fallen and led more armies than the Adversary. That worthy had only ever led one army into one war, and he lost it. While I’ve led more than I want to count.

But he turned back as his natural suspicion took hold. Guerren had made many mistakes in the past, and this might be another one. He still had no proof that woman wasn’t working for the Adversary, and he was the prince of lies.

Doubt gnawed at him. But logic cut through it like a cold knife. The Adversary didn’t need that woman. He could walk into the library whenever he wanted and take the book. And why would he bother? The Morning Star had set his sights on the Mortal World long ago, and all his plots revolved around subjugating it and turning it into Hell’s waiting room or something. Guerren hadn’t paid attention to that jerk’s plans because he’d planned to dispose of the so-called Prince of Darkness as soon as the war ended.

I could have done it too. I had the power and prowess. No one was a match for me. Except for those fecking archangels and their spirit blades. Guerren rubbed his arm where one such blade cut him and shivered, remembering the jolts of agony that sent through him. It felt like a thousand cuts to his soul, and each one burned like a fire in his flesh.

But the Morning Star didn’t have one of those blades. I don’t have my powers either. So the rebellion was his only hope of defeating the self-styled Adversary and that would have galled the man he was when he first arrived here. But now it was an unignorable fact, and he must deal with it. Reality was never what people wanted it to be.

But this felt different. Now that he wasn’t so damned aroused by her presence, he remembered hearing rumors of a Sleeping Angel and a rebellion somewhere outside this city. That didn’t mean anything, not really since the Adversary could have put her up to this. He loved his games.

If she planned to turn on him, then why tell him about the book of names? It was a powerful weapon in anyone’s hands. Yes, he wasn’t a mage or a wizard, but he was a pagan god, and he still had some power. I could use those names too. She’s got no guarantee I’ll take the book to her people. I could grab it and run far away.

Or did she have some guarantee? Of course, the Fallen would hunt him down as soon as they realized the book was gone and who had taken it. Guerren rubbed his arm again, but the memory of the pain was fading, and this felt less like a setup and more like a genuine request. He still couldn’t see any downsides to doing this, and that meant he was probably overlooking something.

They built the Library of Forbidden Knowledge like a fortress, and he’d face unimaginable challenges to reach it, but that thought excited him. For the first time since he escaped the Fallen, he had a destination and soon, he’d have a powerful weapon to use against them.

“Tonight’s a great night to start a war,” he said to the shadows that surrounded him, then he slipped into them and became one with the darkness creeping through the streets of a city in Hell whose name he never cared to learn.

***

As he disappeared into the shadows, a woman peered through a small hole in the wall opposite where Guerren just stood. A wicked smile spread across her blue face. The war had begun, and that fool would deliver the first blow for her mistress.

“Send word to Abalonya of the Neverseen. Tell her I’m sending a weapon. Use it wisely,” she said to someone in the room behind her.