hit counter code The Promise 2
the World

The Promise 2



The reality of hell was much different, though there was some truth to the wholesale allusions to brimstone and fire. A damned soul did have the power to define what Hell was for them, though most never saw the much maligned flames. Hell was far more personal, more intimate. Fire could not hold a candle to the pain a soul faced in hell.

Lilith seldom concerned herself with souls once they had reached their destination. Her role in eternity was similar to a baited hook on a fisherman's line. The stakes were the same, but the angler would not be content to merely digest his catch. She was the perfect lure. Every part of her had been crafted with one purpose in mind - seduction. She was a carnal arrow shot from a hellish cupid into the realm of man.

Lilith had been in the employ of this incarnation of evil for several millennia. During that time she had perfected her art. Luring men into temptation was a simple thing. The base template that drove man's instincts was nearly defenseless against her ample form and seductive nature. Educated men were just as susceptible as the simple-minded. Often times more. They would console themselves with logic to justify their endeavors and think their sins expiated based on their own skewed judgment.

When she was younger she was very efficient in performing her tasks. Using her powers at every turn to achieve her goals. But over time she found her thoughts drifting toward the minds of her victims. She dispensed with her usual magic nature and began to rely on her skills of innuendo and guile. Crafting the fall of some great public official or respected merchant was the only thing that gave her existence meaning. Exposing the sins of a great man in a public after architecting his fall from grace was far more satisfying than the simple act of draining his body of life. Mankind was littered with those who lusted for power and coveted the flesh. Each soul she claimed removed another corrupt soul. She began to consider herself an agent of good. Culling the heard of the burdensome charlatans of law and order.



It was that type of thinking that placed her in her current situation. Enzo Vittorio was introduced to her on a winter night high in the Imperial Alps. The snow-covered parade ground of The Chalice glistened with frozen waves of light under the waxing moon. She watched as her employer wove a sliver-tongued tale intended to snare the young soldier, like so many before. His expression was placid on the surface, but his expressionless mask revealed a small seed to her preternatural eyes. This was the reason HE had come. Germinating the seed of discontent. The weak were consumed and forgotten, but the strong. They would be made into the soldiers of damnation. Through righteous beliefs, lust for power, or hatred. They would serve. HE knew too well the hearts of men.

The contract of life deemed it so. All of humanity was blessed and flawed by the hand of the creator. The souls journey was much like that of raw wool. The process of purification spun the impure from the thread. Thus the fabric would be spared the flawed fiber.

She was important to the fabric in ways that had revealed themselves to her over time. Her gift of beauty was a reflection of the balance of heaven and hell. She was allowed to be coveted for her beauty, but because she was not mortal she could not know love.

That night on the parade ground she felt something that approached love. Something she had never felt before in all the ages past. She remembered crossing the ground and standing before the withered soldier. There, in his tortured eyes was something she desired for herself -- pride.

She was crafted from the abyss, the property of hell. But there was a part of her was not for sale or command. The only way she could claim a sense of self was to hold to something completely within her dominion -- Her word. She could be compelled to do many things in the service of her office. Higher ranking demons and devils have and would use her for their purposes. Through it all she would have her word. The truth would be her weapon and her shield.