Might I be able to drop in for a chat?
*It's not signed, but it is stamped with the King's seal.*
Zidkiyah stepped onto their porch, feeling the gentle spring breeze flutter through their clothes. The first rays of dawn filtered through the cloudsâthey always did so, as the sun was always rising, but this light was especially like that of a sunsetâonto the asphodel on the sugar sand dunes and the weeping willows with their peeks of gold, onto the mug of tea in their hand and their morning mail.
They picked the papers from their doorstep, blowing the sand off them as they put on their reading glasses with their spare hand. There was the newspaper, of which he was chief editor, writer, and printer, the errant advertisements that the Greed demons still attempted to use on them, various scraps of paper telling them to die in various gruesome ways, and⌠oh. Something new.
The paper was smooth, and smelled of spice, oakmoss, and something mildly floral. As they read, their excitement grew beyond something containable. Eyes peeked out of their form on their face, and the wings around their head popped out of the ether just to undulate in empathy. It was a scroll, from Lucifer. From their big brother, Lucifer.
Lucifer is alive! Heâs alive! Oh, my Word- he lives!
Much better than that, he didnât want them to meet the business end of a cliff. Zidkiyah made their way back into their house, making their way to the ink pot with slightly more panache than normal. As they did, they paid more attention to the scroll. It was a different shade of paper, and a different textureâthey knew Luciferâs paper to be more yellowed, with flecks of gold inlaid, and it used to have a more parchment-type texture. The handwriting was less steady, albeit with the same ashy grace he had. It was almost⌠shaky. Pressured. Things couldâve change in however long it had been, they thought. People change.
They set their mail down on the free place on the table, sitting down on the stool before it and looking out at the water. They wrote:
Hello, brother dear! Itâs been so long! I am relieved to learn you survived the war, and even moreso that you wish to talk to me! I am very excited to reintroduce myself to you, and to see you once more.
As the ink dried, Zidkiyah took a bottle, made of frosted white glass, sleek and artful, from the place next to their desk, selecting a cork from their collection to cap it. Once the letter was ready, they rolled it up and placed it into to bottle, corking it. As they did, hot lavender wax seeped from the junction between the two, sealing it. They put on their sandals as they prepared to go outside.
They made their way to the shore, making shoe prints in the sand as they did. The warm water lapped at their feet, revealing the young sand crabs beneath the surface and shells. They carefully set the bottle in the clear water, watching it bob and float out to the horizon, coasting on the waves. Soon, it would reach the King of Hell, and, soon, Zidkiyah would know their brother again.
