Cruciata sat in her dungeon cell brooding about Pava. God had said that a prayer from her would be a key component of the healing ritual that He would perform, and that she should fill her prayer with her growing love for Pava. Cruciata somehow doubted that the prayer should be directed to Darkness. After all, the healing ritual was taking place in Heaven. For the prayer to reach God, Raphael, and Pava, it should probably be directed to the Light... and that frightened Cruciata.
Light and Darkness were powerful cosmic forces even more alien than Life and Death. Life and Death were emanations of Light and Darkness born when Light and Darkness came into contact with sentient life and adapted to suit the needs of consciousnesses. Light and Darkness themselves were nearly as eldritch as Chaos, albeit much more benign. The Light was strong in Heaven. It infused angels and informed all that they were. Even Cruciata's father Beelzebub had once been a being of Light when he had still been an angel. Then the rebellion occurred and the rebel angels were chased into Hell. That was where the Darkness found them and reshaped the rebel angels into the very first demons.
Cruciata wondered what would happen if a demon like her prayed to the Light, and even to Jehovah Himself. Would the holy power cause her demonic form to burn to ash on the spot? Could it spectacularly backfire and kill both Cruciata AND Pava? Or perhaps it could remake their bodies and transform them both into angels...
Cruciata smiled a bit at that thought. He recent experiences in Hell had not been happy. She'd been spurned by the Archdiablesse, used by her father, forced to watch as Pava was mauled by a Chaos entity, and thrown into a cold and damp cell by that scumbag Nergal. Maybe she and Pava might be happier in Heaven as angels of God.
Cruciata picked up a bowl of foul-smelling gruel, eating the loathsome concoction as she made up her mind. She would definitely pray! It could be a risk to Pava, but Pava was dead anyway without Jehovah's ritual. As for the risk to Cruciata, she did not want to live if she had to do it alone. And the potential rewards were so tremendous! Beelzebub had often ranted to her about the splendor angels lived in, while it had taken even the archdukes of Hell thousands of years to rebuild back to a decent standard of living (while Hell's commoners continued to suffer). Better still, she would be away from all of her father's cruel, self-serving friends and allies who had always seen her as a flighty, expendable girl.
Besides, Cruciata was at this point inclined to trust anyone her father hated, and there were few beings that Beelzebub detested more than King Jehovah Caelestis. Yes, Cruciata would pray, and she would pray to Jehovah and the Light he served. Most importantly, she would fill this holy prayer with love.