The skies were red and his throne a glistening ebony. His eyes were the shade of fading embers and his dull crimson horns peeked out from the mess of ebony hair. He often sat in his throne, staring at two rings that he wore in a chain around his neck- rings that were now old, the gold coat fading into blackening silver, the imitation gems losing luster. It wasn't worth much in the mortal world...but to him, they were worth everything.

He had taken a mortal form then, to capture hellbound spirits that had escaped one of his demon’s hold, using a cheap form of heavenly magic. He hadn’t expected to stay, he hadn’t expected to sway. But he had been a temptation.

If only he had walked away that moment. If only he had not acted upon the emotion filling his heart upon hearing him recite stories for the crowd in that village. If only he had halted after getting a taste of his company. If only he had not deemed their differences trivial. If only he had not assumed that the teachings were mere fables.

You may love a mortal but be prepared to live with that love for an eternity. You may change form, you may erase your memories...but that love will haunt you forever. You may love a mortal but pray he doesn’t love you back...for, if he does, your souls will intertwine. It is a bond anomalous and death will do anything to balance the anomalies of the universe.

Those words rang in his head...because he had lost him mere weeks after he had reciprocated his love.

He had lost him despite the precautions he had taken...despite the plans he had devised...to get hold of his soul at his demise...so he could keep him by his side.

He should have known.

His soul was heaven bound. He could not even see it, let alone touch it. His magic had backfired when he attempted to capture his soul...and he landed in hell, his mortal shell obliterated by the light of heaven’s protection. He had returned to the world...to properly bury the body his love’s soul had left behind...to take the token of their love...as a reminder of his grave mistake...of his greed...that had rendered his love’s life short and unfulfilled. He wore it close to his chest because he was still greedy, still wished to cherish his love despite his guilt.

That was when he understood...why he was the Devil.

“My lord.”

“My lord.”

“Jinki?”

Jinki turned towards the one calling upon him. One of his demons. Kibum.

“The procedure is almost complete, my lord.” Kibum spoke, bowing, “All that is left is the addition of a part of your soul.”

Jinki nodded, “I will be there shortly.”

Kibum excused himself and Jinki fisted the rings he had been staring at yet again. It had finally grown painful beyond his endurance. He had erased his memories many a time now but his love came back to haunt him. Memories returned in painful bursts. Agonizing flashbacks making his heart twist. Tears would leave him even before he could understand his pain...and everything began when he would glance at the rings hung around his neck.

He got up and began walking, his feet rising from the ground as his mystic fire took the form of wings. He could see the fiery mass atop the mountain he was flying to, whirling as magic and fire were being combined to birth a new immortal soul. The soul of his offspring.

He had created demons...but creating another entity that paralleled himself was a task that took centuries. A task that would fail if magic and fire were short or excess even by the slight. A task that was near to impossible, for, hell was not a place blessed with birth.

Demons were fallen angels. Angels that were turned mortal as a punishment and had nowhere to go but hell. Jinki would mold those souls to become demons...but his offspring had to be made from his own soul. It was excruciatingly painful to sever a part of himself. But he had made the decision to do so with ease. Centuries had passed since then. Slowly, painfully. And now he no longer remembered why he had chosen to create an offspring.

Maybe to lessen my burden.

He stepped onto the ashy mountain, finding his demons in wait, bowing to him. He had only struggled with himself all this time, lost his previous drive. His pain no longer enabled him to walk the earth nor did it let him face a human soul that his demons brought. Hell was no longer the beautiful chaos it was. And it was due to him. He truly was an abomination of a king...and yet his demons had stayed patient all this while, bowed to him in a respect he did not deserve.

Maybe to lessen their burdens. 

Jinki walked closer to the mercurial ball of flames, engulfed in crimson magic. The skies darkened and lightened with every time the magic in the mass stormed, throwing gusts of winds in its perimeter. Jinki stepped closer, his body dipping in the crimson light that the mass emanated. He extended his arm, reaching out for the mercurial flames, closing his eyes and sensing the magic accumulated inside. He removed it a few moments later and unsheathed the enchanted dagger from his belt and sliced one horn off his head, stepping back in pain...the skies thundering loudly before darkening at that action. Crimson lines of pain ran through his entire body but Jinki stepped ahead, his breath hitched and inserted his horn into the mass.

A part of my soul.

He grabbed the rings and broke the chain by pulling it before inserting it into the mass as well.

A part of my pain.

He withdrew, watching the flames shine brighter, watching the dark magic whirl faster.

Rise, my child.

The mass drifted up, filling the dark skies with red thunder. The erratic flames finally took form and began to drift back downwards. Jinki stepped ahead and extended his arms, the flames gently dropped into his embrace, the flames that had taken form of wings slowly dissipating and revealing an infant, asleep in a blanket of ashes.

Jinki carefully dusted the ash from the infant’s cheek, momentarily forgetting everything but the existence in his arms...the soft, little snores making him smile.

You shall be the savior of hell.

“My lord.”

Jinki turned to Kibum’s call, letting him know that he had his attention before returning to molding hellfire into unusual shapes. Shapes that in the mortal world were called “toys”.

“The young lord...is attempting to open a portal to Earth.”

Jinki’s hands halted and he let go of the fire, the flames fading into the air as he turned. The boy was growing similar to how a human infant does, and was currently akin to a five-year-old mortal both physically and mentally...but his magical prowess was something entirely different. He was strong, he was curious...and he was quick when it came to learning how to handle both magic and fire. This was expected since he had grown fascinated by the world and the heavens, finding the underworld too dull for his plays.

Suddenly, a thunder echoed in the skies and Jinki knew right away...that his son had succeeded. He broke into a dash, jumping off the cliff he usually resided on, rising with flaming wings, gliding towards where the thunder had come from. He was close soon and he spotted little aflame wings flying towards an unsteady hole in the skies.

Grunting with effort, Jinki increased his speed and had nabbed his son right before he flew into the portal, his eyes glowing crimson as he shut the portal, spreading calm in the skies. The boy flared his nostrils and tried to fly out of his father’s hold but Jinki only held him tighter, his gaze turning into a glare, “Taemin.”

Taemin pouted but dropped his effort, letting his wings vanish.

“But I want to go,” He whispered, his eyes teary. He nuzzled into Jinki and Jinki had no choice but to wound his arms around the young one. “Can I not go? Only for a short time. A time those mortals call...a day?”

Jinki knew there would come a time soon he may not be able to stop him.

“Alright,” He whispered, tapping his fingers on his back and summoning the boy’s flaming wings back again, “You need to stay c