https://theprojectava.tumblr.com/post/172348938413/everything-black-in-a-nocturnal-state-of-mind

Keith

Let's get one thing straight. It's not like I wanted to go up to Earth. I like it down here, where the stalagmites and stalactites are adorned with crystals and it's nice and warm and I'm never bothered by anyone except my brothers and the Blade. And, I mean, Him too, but I could never say that He bothered me because He'd get offended.

The Greeks called him Hades, the Romans called him Pluto, and Satan is another one, but I just call him Dad. Or Father when he's angry. Which is a lot of the time, unsurprisingly. He controls everything down here- who comes, where they stay, if they deserve a good afterlife or a bad one. Well, Shiro and Kuron are really the ones to do that last one, but Dad does it too, when he has time.

The Afterlife really isn't that bad, from what I've seen. It's dark. And damp. But it doesn't feel like death, it doesn't smell or burn or any of the other myths that have been made up about it. Frankly, it's insulting when people associate bad things with the Afterlife. I mean, they're going there anyways, why make fun of it?

It smells earthy, like damp dirt, which is understandable because it's technically underground. Technically, though. There's a barrier of some type that prevents the living from ever discovering us and it's pretty much undisputed because no living person has ever come down here.

When you die, you just sort of appear here and then you're sorted into 'good' or 'bad' by Shiro and Kuron respectively. My brothers always tell me it's more difficult than I think and Shiro says, "Good people can do bad things and bad people can do good things." And then Kuron rolls his eyes.

I've never been in the actual Afterlife, where the dead stay beyond the Gates- Dad forbids it, but he's told my brothers and me that for the Good, it's endless entertainment, and for the Bad, it's endless boredom. Seems legit.

I was fiddling around with my pocketknife, a small one from Kolivan, when I heard Dad's voice in my head. "Wake up. Come to the Throne Room." I guess he expected me to be sleeping. I could sleep but I didn't need to- only when I was little or when I'd done something exerting. Other than that, I slept to pass time.

Regardless, I slipped out of my room and made my way through the maze of tunnels that led to the Throne Room, the path (and all others) memorized by heart. It took me only a few minutes to get down to the cavernous area Dad claimed as the Throne Room, and he was waiting for me there when I arrived.

Dad was lounging in his "throne"- today it was a paisley loveseat with gold-plated feet. His legs were crossed, arms folded. Dad could appear in any form he wanted to flawlessly, but I could only change my appearance so I was always jealous when he turned into an eagle or a bear or anything like that.

Normally, I kept to my natural form, which was surprisingly comical. A generic humanoid teenager with a leathery tail that ended in a spade and seemed to have a mind of its own, plus two small horns that protruded from the pale skin of my forehead.

Dad's massive black wings were folded neatly behind him- how he managed to put on a suit with them baffled me. "Father," I greeted in a low voice, bowing slightly. He flicked his hand, dismissing the formality, and beckoned me closer.

"Keith, you've never been to Earth, correct?" He asked. His accent was unidentifiable. His black eyes were trained on me, hair slicked back.

I nodded. What was this about? Dad chuckled and a glass of wine appeared in his hand out of nowhere. He regarded me over the lip of his crystal cup, then stood, beginning to pace. I waited nervously, trying to settle my tail as it flicked behind me.

"It's about time, don't you think?" Dad mused, and I almost thought I saw him smile. What he was suggesting wasn't something I'd really ever thought about before. I guess it would be fun, in a weird sort of way. Exploring. Meeting humans. Being among the world of the living in general. All I've ever known are these earthy walls and the feel of hard, cool crystals beneath my fingers and the touch of my blades in their sheaths up the sleeves of my shirt.

"Kuron! Shiro!" Dad yelled, and the twins arrived in the doorway in seconds, Shiro looking responsible and calm, Kuron looking like he'd just stolen a sizable diamond right from under someone's nose. They walked to stand on either side of me, Kuron slinging a lazy arm around my shoulders as they addressed our father.

"Boys," Dad spoke to the twins, "you remember when you went up to Earth, right?"

My brothers, the caretakers of the Gates, were several hundred years older than me, all tall and muscly and imposing. Shiro, the twin in charge of the Good, had white hair and human eyes and he'd always been kinder to me. If devils could love, I guess I'd love Shiro (as a brother).

Kuron was mischievous, to say the least. He was in charge of the Bad souls, the hearts gone rogue. His messy jet black hair was always obscuring his glowing yellow eyes, but he refused to cut it more than once a year. He had a lingering smirk on his lips, always poking fun at me, always being given disapproving looks from Shiro.

They were brothers, though, and after a few thousand years, I'd learned how to be close to them.

The twins nodded in sync, then looked down at me, an unfortunate head shorter than them. "Is Keith going up?" Shiro asked, turning back to our father.

Dad pressed his lips together, eyebrows furrowed. "I think it's about time," he repeated. "I mean, even I know all the teenage lingo, Keith." Beside him, a mahogany table suddenly caught on fire. Dad gave it awkward finger-guns and chuckled, "See? It's 'lit'," laughing at his own joke. I rolled my eyes.

"If you want me to go up to the surface," I told Dad, taking his attention away from the burning table, "then I'll go."

Dad clapped his hands together, "Wonderful." I hadn't seen him this enthusiastic about something in decades. Maybe I should've been offended- this meant a good amount of time away from me. "Grab what you need, meet me back here, and I'll port you to the surface."

...

As I was packing a small bag for supplies I thought I'd need (it was small, I didn't know how long I'd be wondering so I didn't want to have to carry something heavy) someone knocked at my door. Assuming it was someone from the Blade, I didn't turn, simply calling, "Come in!"

"Hey." That wasn't a Blade. I turned to look at Shiro. It was rare that the twins were seen apart from each other. "May I sit?" He asked, staring pointedly at my bed. I nodded, resuming packing.

My room wasn't much. It was small, rocky, like a cave almost, and pretty primitive besides the mini-fridge and the functional door. I had a few trunks, one full of clothes, another full of weapons, some trinkets and things like that. It was pretty basic- I didn't want much (except a dog, but Dad said that it would be impractical).

"So," Shiro started. He had this serious face on, looking older than he was.

I interrupted him before he could start, "Kuron said that I was distant." I don't know why it had been bothering me, nor did I know why I mentioned it. Maybe because I knew that whatever Shiro was going to say, I wanted to delay it for as long as possible.

Shiro paused, frowning a little. I knew that he and Kuron didn't see eye-to-eye on some things, but I was starting to think by the way he sighed, long and deep, that he agreed with our brother on this one.

"I don't think... you're distant, per say," Shiro spoke carefully, "I think you're cautious about opening up to people. I think... you're hesitant to trust, so you aren't able to talk about things openly," I frowned, but Shiro quickly amended, "that's not a bad thing, don't get me wrong. I know that you're able to express yourself and channel your emotions into things like training and fighting. And I think that's fine."

"You think I'm emotionally constipated," I translated, and Shiro couldn't help but crack a grin.

"I think it's okay to let out your emotions through a hobby but..." Shiro looked pained as he tried to keep composed, "I don't think it would hurt to try and make some friend up there. Some people who you can trust."

I stopped packing, then looked at Shiro evenly. I almost wanted to tell him off for saying something like that. I was... introverted, that's all. But he looked nervous and it was unnerving so I simply nodded, acting as if I'd take it into consideration. I knew already that I wasn't the type to really make friends, though.

...

Dad held me at arm's length by my shoulders, looking over me and sighing deeply. I could never really tell what he was thinking, but I thought I saw a hint of pride in his eyes. I hoped so. Shiro and Kuron weren't in the room with us, but I'd already said goodbye in the tunnels, as well as stopping by the Blade chambers to say goodbye to my teachers.

"You're going to be fine, son. Trust yourself. You know the rules. Be bad." I felt myself being pulled upwards, and my father stepped back, dark face light for once. I closed my eyes.