Homeland

Letter Twelve

Citudaolle,

            I’ve been asking Alistriona about Hell.  (Do not let that sentence give you false hope.  I ask not because I plan to go back, but because I must know everything possible about every possible enemy.  Which Alistriona is).

            The first thing I asked was her original name.  She called herself Derac-seniit.  Of course, if I was any type of prudent, I wouldn’t trust her.  So I don’t.

            But she told me quite a bit of information.  Information I’m not so ready to dismiss.  Hell has really changed, hasn’t it?  Alistriona said by the time she was born (about 300 years ago, so she says.  She said it as if such a young age was something to be proud of.  I wonder if she knows my age?  Did they brief her?  Or do they use my exile as a warning to the generations?  Seventeen hundred years.  I’ve experienced seventeen hundred long years) there was no such thing as straw huts.  All homes were replaced with stone buildings, extending towards the sky. 

            Alistriona also mentioned you being one of the heads in the government.  Congratulations.  I assume then, that it was you who hired Alistriona to get me, and you who thought I would bow down at your feet when you called.  Getting a little arrogant, now, aren’t you?  Do remember that your job can easily be taken out of your grasp with a simple mistake; perhaps by suggesting a war that relies too much on a lost loved one who refuses to cooperate. 

            I also heard that Hell is the reigning government in the Dark World.  No, no, Alistriona didn’t tell me that.  I mentioned the Dark World, and she had no clue what I was talking about.  So the vampires, the shifters, the dragons and monsters – they were all kept under control?  Impressive.  I remember those battles.  I remember those victories.  I just didn’t think Hell would be able to contain them.

One more thing.  A warning.  No matter how much more advanced your technology is, no matter how behind the times I am, I know, for sure, that Hell will never win over Heaven.  I can see it n my head.  I can see the war.  Hundreds of thousands of millions of angels, lined up in neat, orderly rows at the edge of Heaven.  The demons advancing, with those barbaric shifters and other creatures mixed in between.  Charging at the pure whiteness of the angels, firing guns and shooting arrows, fighting tooth and nail to get through the never-ending layers of angels. 

Remember – they’re not afraid of dying.  They will stand their ground.  Most likely, they won’t be able to die, either.  They’ll keep standing there until the Hell runs out of energy; runs out of power.  You can’t get through them.

Have fun with that.  Remember to keep some of the people back.  Once all the warriors are dead or imprisoned, you want at least someone left behind to continue the race

Khlamuherguetora

***Eurgh.  Crappy chapter.  Don't worry!  I's getting bored of writing this, so the next letter should have some action in it.  More fun that way.  So... what do you think I mean by 'action'?