Birdsong chases away the dark. My eyelids flail open as I press myself up from against the dust. It almost reminds me of when I was a boy, sleeping in Eldorium's slums. It was so long ago I can barely remember, but I remember this - sleeping in the dust, thinking it was only a matter of time before I became a part of it.

The fire must've spat out during the night - the smell of cold coal and charred wood. Omen whinnies nearby me, who must've gotten up earlier to graze on the outskirts again. The morning sunlight is warm on my face, against the fresh, cool air. Perhaps the only comforting part of all of this is nature, being completely immersed in it - entirely at its mercy.

I clamber to my feet, unsteady with the haze of sleep. My muscles feel less sore and fatigued, at least. The sleep felt deep, despite my surroundings, which is precisely what I needed in order to get through today.

"Let's be on our way, shall we?" I say to Omen, who trots over obediently.

I gather my few things - sword, cloak, hilt, and climb onto Omen's back. He doesn't even falter slightly beneath my weight, his muscles solid and strong. There's of course, something supernatural about his strength and steadiness, an immortal ease.

"Let's go then," I click, and Omen trots forward, back into the thicket.

I try to imagine what Aeris' territory is like, how the forest will somehow warp from bright green grass and trees into a mountain of fiery rocks and not a single shrub to be seen. The fact that these places have gone unfound, untouched by man is surreal to me - how has no one seen or stumbled upon these places before? Or perhaps, I might be the only one who has come out of them alive. By Erebus' grace alone, and my newfound powers.

Although, I don't know what good they'll do for me here.

Her dominion is exactly as I expected it to be, without any hint from Erebus. A winding stream lies ahead, its surface gray and dark, desiccated pine trees scattered along its edges. The water trickles quietly, almost calmly, against the sound of crackling flames along the rocks embedded in its shallow depths. Fires that must burn eternally, casting an orange hue on the reflection of the water.

Omen steps in the stream anyway, his hooves clicking against the pebbles beneath, water dripping from every step. He whinnies and tosses his head, and I sense courage rather than unease. After all, I doubt there's anything that could truly harm him - he is, in a way, dead.

Tall, spiked mountains form a ravine-like path ahead, where the stream dies off into dry rubble. Omen tracks through the stream carefully, avoiding the jutting rocks and spitting flames. The gods' sanctuaries seem to defy the laws of nature. I can feel it - a sense of imbalance within the world, a severe defiance of nature.

We start down the path, and something comes into view - almost like a palace, or a temple, built into the large mountain ahead. Its dark, ancient-carved walls stand out against the scorched crimson sky. The writings in the wall scream terrible tales, an unheard story of fire and ruin.

This place must've been a temple, I realise, the closer we get, the more the sense of danger speaks to me. With people.

The archway of the door glows orange, making the air heavy with ash and heat. It pulses like it's alive, like it's daring the living to enter. I urge Omen to a halt and slide off his back, unsure what I'm about to face. Whether it is safer that he remains here or not.

I look over my shoulder, back at the ravine and stream. There is nothing lurking - I would sense it.

"Stay here," I tell Omen, running my fingers through his mane for a moment.

I stalk towards the archway, reading some of the writing etched into its blackened stone. But the language and symbols don't seem to be of this world. At least, nothing I have seen before. I don't bother to draw my sword, because I do not want to display any sign of fear. A goddess like Aeris ought to know she doesn't frighten me. And she doesn't. For I fear nothing more than losing Cassian.

And that makes me a weapon she simply cannot break.

The warmth of the flames graze my cheeks, but nothing burns - it's all for show, all this fire. A short hallway lies ahead, the molten cracks in the walls lighting the way. I go forward, my caution growing with each step I take.

"Aeris," I call, once I reach the end of the hall, facing a large, ballroom-like opening, full of sharp stone spikes and a set of long, steep stairs. They lead to an empty throne - apart from the growling heads of three hellhounds. They must be - black and large, orange and red glowing between their fur.

Then where is she? I wonder, scanning the area, all the dark crevices. She wouldn't be one to hide, especially from a mere mortal. At least, that's what she must presume.

The stone ground beneath me hisses and cracks slightly, giving way to an eruption above the staircase. A sculpted figure of magma emerges from blazing tendrils of flame, kneeling in rising agony, flicking back her fiery threads of hair, like liquid streaks of lava. Her body is bare and taut, muscles made of blackened stone and searing magma. She rises to her feet, materializing from the ground below, fire dripping from her every limb.

"Azael Aeron," she says in a raspy, sultry voice, echoing off the walls. She tilts her fiery chin to me, her throat and chest glowing orange. "You mustn't be a coward after all, otherwise you would have burned the moment you set foot here."

Aeris takes a step down the stairs, a smirk visible on her stone lips. "Or, my hellhounds would've sensed it, and they relish the flesh of cowards."

I make my way up the stairs, my eyes trained on her. "Well, they'll starve if they attempt to eat me," I say, casting a glare at them growling beside her.

Her lava eyes glint even lighter. "You truly are brave, aren't you? Or perhaps a fool."

I stop several stairs away from her, with her inhumanly tall figure towering over me. "And what are you? Afraid of a mortal, so you come forth in your most protected form?"

She shifts her weight onto one molten hip. "I'm not afraid of you, half-god," she rebuttals, her body crumbling away into a fleshy form, still larger than human, but human nonetheless.

The flesh of Aeris stands before me now, clothed in a dark dress, bangles of gold and flowing black hair. Her hellhounds surround her, and she reaches out to pet them.

"I already know why you're here, of course," she says eventually, her garnet-red lips slipping into a straight line. "You should know where I stand."

I raise my head, staring her dead in the eyes - ashy brown, bottomless, glinting with mischief. "So you're with us?"

She laughs, flashing a set of white, fang-like teeth. "Or what, Azael?" she taunts, stepping down to me. "You'll kill me?"

"I don't discriminate," I answer, holding her fiery gaze. "I'll slaughter you as I would any other man that gets in my way."

This makes her grin even wider. "I believe you," she says, her voice less raspy in this form, more sly. "And for that, Azael, you may just have my blessing."

She picks something out of my hair - ash, maybe - expecting me to flinch. Her face only beams when I don't.

"So you're pledging your allegiance to us?" I confirm, my eyes slitting in distrust. "You're willing to kill Avel?"

She folds her arms, blinking slowly. "Even better, sweetheart," she begins, "I'll kill him myself."