to make them die or life in sorrow 1/3
Aug. 9th, 2011 12:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cashayLooking over the open plane Adnarel stood alone. He watched the sun rise slowly, waking the world out of a long night. Things had happened that had changed the face of the universe and it was never going to be the same again. But down here, down here everything was the same.
Adnarel had thought that somehow it had to show. The fall of the brightest angel had to make a difference, even down here. But nothing, nothing had changed. The grass was just as green, the sky was gonna be just as blue once the sun had reclaimed it.
Only this sunrise looked more bloody than any other Adnarel had ever witnessed. But maybe he was just imagining it. Imagining because something had to have changed.
Everything looked so peaceful, so untouched. Even the bloody red of the sky had something calm and soothing about it. Adnarel hated it; it didn't fit. It wasn't right.
He was angry and insecure, and he didn't want to feel peaceful. He wanted to pace and yell and demand answers. From God, from Lucifer, from Michael. But he wasn't that pathetic – not yet anyway.
He would leave the crying and cursing for others. It wasn't over after all, at least not for him. He wasn't done; he wasn't going to give up on everything that easily.
The world suddenly appeared brighter and Adnarel had to smile, knowing that Lucifer was behind him, not bothering to get himself a body like Adnarel had done. The Morningstar did not mingle much with humans. Adnarel had always teased that it was below him, apparently he had been right. For once he hated it.
“You've come to say goodbye?” he asked hesitantly, not turning around. Instead he watched the sun rise over the grassland, setting it on fire, at least for a few moments. He couldn't bare to look at Lucifer if his angel was really going to bid him farewell. Feeling him alone was bad enough, he just wanted to turn and bury himself in the glowing grace of the most beautiful being their father ever created.
“No.” Lucifer's voice was intimidating to most angels, even if he was gentle but Adnarel had always felt himself being drawn to it. It was hard to grasp even for angels and Adnarel doubted that there would ever be a human who would be able to hear him, chosen or not. “I've come to ask you to join me.”
Adnarel was surprised to hear something akin to begging in his voice. It was nothing he was used to hear from Lucifer.
The older angel was always stern and focused, even when he was being gentle there was this steel core that was just so much Lucifer it was impossible to imagine him without it. But even though Adnarel was amazed at the tone in his voice it wasn't that simple.
“You ask me to abandon heaven and our father? Turn my back on our brothers and fight them, kill them?” After he said those words Adnarel really wished he hadn't put them out there, it was so much harder to even think about it now. Damn this was his family. His home.
He felt Lucifer getting agitated behind him, the anger boiling up to the surface. It had been there for a long time. Since God had made the humans. Their souls were intertwined so closely that Adnarel had been able to feel it coming for a long time. But Lucifer had not answered his question when he had wanted to know what made his mate so angry, what he could do to appease him.
He had given him his time, waiting patiently for Lucifer to work through whatever made him so angry and resentful. Well, Lucifer had worked through it but not in the way Adnarel had hoped for. Rather he had started a rebellion and fallen from grace.
“Father abandoned us for some monkeys that evolved out of stupid fish,” Lucifer growled, pacing behind Adnarel's back. He was probably burning the grass under his furious pace but it was obvious that Lucifer was far to angry to care for his surroundings as he usually did, “we are his first creations, we're strong we follow his words. And still he wants us to bow to this abominations and protect them.”
Lucifer hissed behind him, stepping closer until he was reaching out to curl his grace around him. It was obvious in how much turmoil he was, angered and aggravated but most of all there was insecurity. Adnarel pressed his grace back against Lucifer, trying to sooth him through their link.
“They are his creations too.” he reminded his mate silently even though he knew that those words were going to anger Lucifer. And instantly his grace flared up, it was nearly painful through their link but Adnarel kept pressing close. He wasn't going to abandon his mate and this should probably tell him that the decision was already made, that he had already decided to go against God in order to stay with Lucifer but he wasn't ready to admit it out loud just yet.
“They're worthless and dirty! Have you seen what they do, destroying Fathers creations? They're hurting each other for now reason other than the pleasure it gives them.” Finally Lucifer forced Adnarel to face him, not allowing Adnarel to look away even for a second.
The need to make his mate understand pounded strong in their bond, it was nearly impossible to not just give in but Adnarel wasn't weak. Lucifer might be stronger than nearly every one of his brothers but Adnarel wasn't all that weak himself.
“I've seen into the future.” Lucifer continued, his grace pressing against Adnarel, urging him to understand, to join Lucifer. “It's horrible. They're gonna destroy the wonderful creation of our Father. They're gonna maim and kill each other and everything else for nothing but selfishness and the thrill they get.”
Adnarel nodded, he had seen it too. The destroyed thing the wonderful world his father created would one day become. But he had also searched for Lucifer in the future, looking for what could happen if he went through with it. He had seen him in a Cage deep down in the twisted thing they would call Hell.
By the way Lucifer was pressing closer his mate had seen it too. “I won't let that happen. Come with me and we can change it. I promise you we can change it and make everything right, how it's supposed to be.”
There wasn't much resistance left in him anyway. And why would he want to resist his mate? This wonderful, strong and shining being that has let him on so many paths. “Yes,” he whispered, breaking free of his human vessel to join his grace to Lucifer. They belonged, there was nothing that would change it, Lucifer and he were always going to be one.
Later, Adnarel would bitterly mock himself for falling for Lucifer's words. The other one had just been an angel like he had been. He should have known that falling from Grace, denying their father was going to change them. But he had been to blindly in love to see it.
He hadn't seen how Lucifer with all his promises and his determination to set things 'right' hadn't been any better than any of the humans he had cursed so often. That he had no right to question God just because he was hurt that he had some new favorite playthings.
Later, Adnarel would curse himself for believing Lucifer, for ever trusting him. Curse God for creating Lucifer that way, for allowing him to fall in love with him. Because God had to have known. He was almighty, omniscient and still he had allowed this to happen. Had allowed their home to be torn apart and for Adnarel to fall. Fall and be forgotten, abandoned.
Much later he figured that this was God's way of giving them a free will. It was more painful for them than it was for humans. They weren't created for it; they were created to follow their Father's orders. And maybe the fact that following your free will made you loose everything was a sign that Father didn't like it so much after all.
The screams were deafening even to Adnarel's ears. When an angel died it happened silently at least on the outside. But all of the Heavenly Host were connected and the burning of a Grace was like a piece of yourself was ripped away and destroyed. In the Beginning, when the first angel had died everyone had just stopped, unable to fathom the loss that had just left them all bleeding.
But by now they were all used to it. The burning and ripping had become something that accompanied them wherever they went because even if they didn't fight the war never stopped, the fighting never stopped. The tearing when one of their brothers or sisters were killed was already bad enough but the slow bleeding of Grace that accompanied the wounded was nearly worse. It was a constant presence in the back of your mind, making you unable to forget.
And it drove them all towards madness. The need to win wasn't driven by hate or loyalty anymore it was driven by the need to make the pain stop. The pain that was always present, always ripping at them even if they had learned to not let it take them.
Adnarel had managed to suppress the pain fast, he was the Angel of Strategy after all and he knew that the pain was too big of a disadvantage to allow it too much reign. But even he couldn't make it go away completely. Some might think Lucifer managed but maybe Lucifer was in more pain than any one of them.
He had pulled back from every bond he possessed, even from Adnarel even though the angel had tried to make his mate stay close. But he understood Lucifer's need to shield himself from the pain; he did it too after all. It never occurred to him that he was wrong.
Lucifer and the angels that followed him - including Adnarel - had just wanted to do what was right. The humans were abominations, they didn't deserve to be living on this wonderful planet that God had created. They would destroy it and they were going to keep it safe by destroying the part of God's creation that was rotten and wrong.
Fighting had become his second nature. Though he -- as the Angel of Strategy -- wasn't as naturally practiced with his blade as the other angels were, he had learned to adapt quickly. You did that or you died. Where once remorse had been when he killed one of his brothers now lay only a twisted kind of joy.
He knew he shouldn't be happy to see one of his brothers' die but Lucifer had told all of them often enough how the other angels were actually the twisted ones the ones that didn't see their Father's plan clearly. He had promised them they did the right thing, that this was what their Father wanted.
Adnarel swirled and killed without remorse when the heat of the battle took him. The sword cut merciless through the Grace of his brothers and sisters. He had become deaf to their cries of pain and remorse.
Only later, when the rush of the fight had left him and Lucifer had left him for some unknown task, he was ashamed. He was ashamed of what he did with so much joy. He was ashamed how easy it had become to ignore the pain. He was ashamed that even now he felt numb and uncaring.
The first time he saw them he was disgusted with those twisted souls that had become Lucifer's new allies. They had once been human but something, someone had twisted and maimed them beyond recognition. They were formed into something wicked and cold, so far from a human soul it hurt to look at them.
Something felt familiar about them but Adnarel was afraid of what he might sense so he ignored it just like he had ignored the pain of his family for so long now. Instead he turned to Lucifer, glaring accusing, demanding to know what he had done, what those creatures where.
"They're Demons. They are going to help us set things right. Don't worry beloved, I will destroy them after we have accomplished our goal and once and for all the Creation will be pure again."
Adnarel did what Lucifer asked of him, just like he had always done what his mate had wanted of him. He had been at Lucifer's side throughout the war, never asking anything of him, just giving for the cause he thought righteous. Lucifer had become more demanding and more distant over the time but Adnarel had never doubted him.
He was understanding, believing firmly that it was only the burden of an imposing Father's will that made him that way. So when Lucifer asked him to lead the Demons, Adnarel had agreed, burying his own feelings of disgust because of the duty he felt he had to Lucifer.
He had led them in the battle, uncaring for their pain and death just as he hadn't allowed himself to care about the death of his family for so long. He couldn't allow himself to feel or he knew he would find out how much exactly an angel could survive before giving up.
Lucifer was finding that out too, but in other ways and Adnarel didn't want to think too much about what his mate did in the dark realm he had created for himself and his demons. The hate he felt through their bond was already bad enough.
But whatever it was that the Morningstar was doing, it left Adnarel with caring for the Demons and it seemed with Lucifer absent they turned to him for guidance. He was still disgusted by their very being but he found it easier to deal with Demons these days than with Angels.
Adnarel preferred not to think about it too much. They had a war to win, the Creation to safe. There was no time for emotions or questioning what they were doing. They would win and everything would be right again.
Later, Adnarel was sure, that he was only ignoring the pain because he feared it. Feared that he would realize what he did to his brothers and sisters. Feared that he would see that what he had done was the wrong thing.
Later, he understood that by shielding himself from the pain Lucifer had denied it. He had denied seeing the reality of what he was doing, of the pain he was causing. He had wanted to see himself as someone who rescued and freed and the pain would have destroyed that image and forced him to see the reality.
Later, it occurred to him, that it wasn't humanity that was rotten but the angels.
Later, he was sure; that the numbness he had felt at the pain of his family had been the sign that he was falling once and for all. Not only from Grace but also from everything he had thought he was fighting for.
Later, he blamed himself for never seeing what was behind the surface of the Demons. He hadn't wanted to see what Lucifer had done to the human souls, how he had twisted them. So he had ignored it and with that ignored what Lucifer had become, what he had become.
Later he thought, that he had gotten too good at ignoring the pain. He would always wonder if one day the point would come where he was just going to break because he couldn't deal with it anymore, couldn't keep on going. But even after millennia that point never came, or maybe he had just ignored his breaking point like he had ignored the pain. Whatever it was, Adnarel survived.
Later he mocked himself for being so stupidly in love and ignoring what was right in front of his eyes. He hadn't wanted to see what was happening out of that stupid love. He had denied that Lucifer had changed and that the love that he had so long shared with the other angel had long become something only he felt.
Later he knew he should have known better. The Angel of Strategy should have known to question everything, even if not out loud at least in his mind but even that he hadn't done because deep inside he had know he had been wrong. But his loyalty had been so blind, he had been hoping so much that if he did all what was asked from him, after the war was over, Lucifer would be the Angel he loved again.
Later he thought of that as the moment when he was no longer an Angel of the Lord but an Angel of Hell.
Adnarel wasn't sure what had hurt more: The pain of actually seeing Lucifer thrown into the Cage or the fact that his one and only love had dropped him long before that. It hadn't happened in a moment of heat, they didn't even have a fight about it. Adnarel was far too scared of really being alone in the world to do that.
Instead he had just watched as Lucifer pushed him farther and farther away, with snarky remarks and useless tasks. It had torn his heart apart, not in one big, dramatic motion but bit-by-bit. He had felt it and Lucifer must have had felt it as well. Sometimes Adnarel saw something he thought was worry and regret in his mate's eyes but he was denying the reality too much when they were happening and later he was hating Lucifer too much to even admit that he might have been just as hurt.
It must have been obvious how his grace had crumbled farther and farther under the pain his mate inflicted on him by refusing him the closeness he so desperately sought. Well, obvious to everyone but Adnarel himself. He had stayed oblivious, hadn't allowed the pain anywhere near him because he already felt like breaking.
Lucifer had been the only thing keeping him relatively sane in all of this. Angels weren't made for violence and death. No one remembered it but Adnarel did. And if you bothered looking you could clearly see the evidence of that fact written onto their Grace. The killing tainted them, no matter for what side or what reason.
It was just the way their Father had created things. Everything asked a sacrifice from you and even if you fought for the righteous cause - whichever one that was, Adnarel had long ago lost faith in any side - you lost something of yourself in it.
Adnarel had resigned himself to the fact that his Grace would lose more and more of its light and the pureness it once possessed with every day he spend with the demons and with Lucifer, but he had always clung to the Morningstar for support, seeking his guidance, seeking his light.
He had needed the connection to stop his Grace from finally breaking into something different altogether. He was scared of it becoming completely different. He had accepted that he was no longer an angel of his Father, the Lord, but an angel of the gruesome place Lucifer called Hell, the place that was now his home.
But with every time Lucifer pushed him back and snarled at him for coming close or doing something wrong, with every time Lucifer refused his touch and his presence there was a new crack in Adnarel's Grace, a crack different from simply falling. He had still believed in something, someone. Had believed in both his Father and Lucifer but now he felt that faith leaving him.
It filled him with horror even though he didn't accept his final downfall until it was too late to set anything back to rights. Instead he could just watch Lucifer be thrown into the cage by an angry and heartbroken Michael.
He could have stopped him or at least given Lucifer the chance to fight against him again. Maybe he could have turned it around. But he didn't. Because even though he had denied the changes happening in him, they had still happened.
His Grace was now something dark and twisted, a pulse of something ugly where once something pure and glorious had been. And this twisted thing that was now him had wanted revenge. Revenge for the fact that Lucifer had torn everything from him. Had promised him love and a home, something he could now never have, and abandoned him in the end.
All of them knew Lucifer would come back, the knowledge that the fight had to happen, would happen as soon as the vessels were born was branded in all of their brains. This was how it was going to go down.
Except it wasn't. Adnarel swore to himself that he would fight it. He would keep them from fulfilling their precious little destiny. He would ruin all their plans just liked they had ruined his wish to have a silent life with Lucifer, a happy one.
He was going to get revenge, no matter the costs. If someone would stand on their graves it was him. He knew he would triumph because he had nothing else to loose and no one to go to. But what he had where thousands of years to plan what he was going to do, plan how he would make them all suffer just as he had suffered.
Adnarel was on the run. All of the fallen angels were. Heaven didn't tolerate rebellion or even opposition they would kill them all just to make sure Lucifer wouldn't have an army waiting for them. Why they didn't wipe out Hell Adnarel wasn't sure.
But even if the angels were stronger than combined Hell... well things could get ugly with all the Demons together. And they had learned quick that in order to survive now that Lucifer was gone they needed to stick together, at least as long as the Angels still had any interest in them.
Adnarel too had hidden in Hell. His Grace already tainted enough to let him hide with the most twisted creatures of all. The Demons had tolerated him barely, well those that noticed him. But they hadn't attacked him out of respect for the old structures probably. Maybe it was because they knew that he was stronger and could rip them apart easily.
They were only a danger in masses but they never were in masses at least not in the remote end of Hell he was hiding at, as far away from the Cage and from Heaven as possible.
Later, Adnarel would think of this of the time that he was reborn.
Getting used to being something not entirely angelic anymore was hard. It felt weird and wrong in a million different ways. He hurt all over, from what he wasn't sure but he hurt. His wings were scorched and black only small shadows of the glory they had once possessed.
But even though he had fallen from the Host Adnarel found himself with a whole set of new skills that definitely weren't angelic. He feared that he had become something like a Demon but when he felt for Heaven he could still hear his family. They were still so close.
On his weak days he tried to grab for them, tried to get a glimpse of what used to be his home, of the only place he had ever been happy in. But even though the Host was so close it was just out of reach, he had sinned just a bit too much to ever be forgiven. His revenge burned too strong to allow any kind of real remorse, to allow his Father's forgiveness to grab him. If there even was such a thing.
Adnarel was pretty sure by now that their Father was a cruel being. He had to hate His children to make them go through all of this, truly hate them. Their Father was almighty and still He forced them to fight one another. He had given the human the Free Will but His first born He had denied it. Why where they punished for simple doubt and the need for freedom while the humans could do whatever they wanted without being punished for the sole act of deciding. What they did with their freedom could just as well lead to their downfall but whatever happened to them in the end was their own decision, it was their fault.
It was the freedom Adnarel had envied them for as had Lucifer. Now he resented it. Now that he had this freedom he wished back the purpose the feeling of doing something important, something divine.
All he had left was his revenge and his hate. It weren't pleasant things to run on. He had no home anymore, neither Hell nor Heaven were places he belonged. He wasn't even sure the monsters of Hell wouldn't try to rip him to shreds now Lucifer was gone.
They were a savage bunch of beings, twisted souls that knew no real loyalty anymore. Most of the time they simply followed the strongest one or when they fought they fought simply for destruction and the freedom to kill and maim as they pleased. There was nothing behind it. No purpose no real force.
Adnarel guessed he now was as empty as they had always been. And while they had never known real purpose, real determination Adnarel had and he missed it with all his torn and aching Grace. He was aimless and without the aim, the Faith in something, he was utterly alone.
Another thing he had learned quickly was, that without Faith an angel would fall, even one with as little Grace as he had. And he had lost everything he ever had had Faith in. How was he supposed to find it again in a world where there were only lesser beings that all the greatness had abandoned.
For the time being his hate, his burning desire for revenge kept him strong but he felt how he weakened with every day that passed after Lucifer had been thrown into the cage. Time, something that had never mattered to him before suddenly became so incredibly important to him. He dreaded every inch the sun moved on the sky, dreaded the sunset at day and the sunrise at dark. He wished he could just freeze the time.
Adnarel settled himself to becoming human slowly and in search for what made you human something as which he would later have to live with, because he wouldn't give up and just die - he wasn't weak after all - Adnarel started to watch those strange creatures. He had watched them before but always out of the perspective of a being so much older that would never have to deal with a shortened lifespan. Now it was different, now he knew he would eventually become one of them.
They were quite funny to watch those poor little worms Adnarel decided after the first few days. He had stayed at one rather large village watching their strange interaction that wasn't all that different from how Angels interacted but still different enough to not feel right.
What fascinated him most though wasn't their strange behavior or even the food they ate, but most of all the way they were so fragile and so strong at the same time. Adnarel saw men who bore incredible weights, who dragged things Adnarel would have deemed far to heavy for them. And where their strength wasn't enough there were always some who could use their head and figure out something. It didn't always work but they always tried.
He saw women whose souls were so broken and hurt the fallen Angel was surprised they were even able to breath let alone carry on. But they did and survived day after day, some of them even smiled and laughed, ignoring their shattered soul, to embrace lives.
The Fallen saw families that would go through any hardship to protect each other. He saw fathers, grandfathers, brothers, husband fight to the death to keep their loved one safe. He saw mothers, grandmothers, sisters, wives weep for them and then use their strength to protect whatever was left of their home and family.
It was incredible and fascinating. The Angel could lose himself for days in the life of strangers, always wondering where they took the strength from to go on even if all the odds were against them. Not all made it, not all even tried but more tried than Adnarel would have given them credit for.
Lucifer had been wrong, they had faith in their Father, they believed so strongly that even the fallen Angel could feel it seeping out of their settlements towards the Host, towards wherever their Father was now after abandoning him.
But as his powers got weaker and he was hardly able to conceal himself when he watched them in their settlement there was one thing that stood out, it was the fact, that they believed in themselves.
And that was something Adnarel realized he could do. He could believe in himself, had to if he didn't want to fall from Grace forever and end up a weak human. He had revenge to get after all, he needed his powers, and he needed to keep strong, keep his power.
Believing in himself instead of his Father or Lucifer hadn't turned out to be all that hard. He had gained his energy back fast and even though he knew that his Grace was further changing, he didn't much care about it. All that counted was that he had his Grace back, that he could get revenge.
It didn't bother him all that much that he wasn't Adnarel anymore, he really hadn't been for a long time.
He hadn't found himself again yet but he had time, he didn't need to be anyone for someone anymore he could be himself -- whoever that was. Just like he had thousand of years to plan his revenge on Lucifer and Heaven he had time to find out who he was, who he wanted to be. He could be anyone, he was free. And even though freedom hurt, it also was far too intoxicating to dwell into the hurt too long.
He was made anew, he was something different, powerful and dark and immortal. He might be twisted but whatever acceptance of his destiny he had had once was gone, with the light that had made him a being his Father had made. And no matter how dark or twisted he was, for the first time in decades, thousands of years he was free and without any regret.
The Fallen was soaring through the air, not afraid any longer, no Demon and no Angel would make him bow. He was strong and by the fear he elicited in the eyes of the humans he showed himself too he knew he was terrifying and beautiful.
But even though he was free and flew without any burden he still had no purpose, well, no purpose but plan his revenge into perfection. He would make them suffer like he had suffered; they were going to regret what they had done to him, all of them.
They had made the failure of assuming he was dead like most of the fallen Angels. They had hunted them all down but since he had hidden and the stupid buggers had searched for his Grace -- a thing he no longer possessed -- they believed he had died somehow. They should know better.
Planning and watching, the Fallen wandered over the earth. He didn't care where he went, but he soon found himself following the pull of war, of murder and moral decay. It bothered him the first few times he felt the urge to mingle with the biggest scumbags on earth but he had gotten used to it fast. After all one could say he was now the advanced version of the worst of them.
They could teach him a thing or two too, even though he would never admit that. He watched kings who lead whole empires and admired their enemies as they brought them down. He watched how the lowest human dirt you could find tricked and bribed the rich out of their wealthy counterparts. He watched little men bringing big men to fall. He watched mighty men destroy each other. He watched women influencing and scheming, running whole empires without anyone knowing they were even there.
He watched and he learned and it didn't take long for him to be up there with the best of them. He didn't return to Hell though. Every kind of loyalty or fear they ever had for him would be gone by now and Adnarel was sure they would try to attack him as soon as they saw him.
At least as long as he didn't learn how to hide his Grace completely. He was so changed he couldn't be found by Angels anymore but he was sure the Demons would sense that he was different, maybe not in which way exactly but they didn't need that. They wouldn't tolerate a stranger in their ranks, they barely tolerated themselves after all. Well they did on the better days. Which, admittedly, were very rare in Hell.
But he knew how vital of a resource Hell could be. He needed to find a side he could pretend to be part of. If suddenly a force appeared that had no connection to everything that happened at all the Vessels would be distrustful. They would be distrustful of him either way, he had seen into the future to take a look at them, but something from the world they knew would be easier to win their... cooperation.
Since he as an Angel wouldn't work he had to go for a Demon. It wasn't all that bad, at least he didn't have to play moral and holy while he was a Demon. He could just be... demonic.
While he had been in the future, the Fallen had forbidden himself to take even a glimpse of how all of this would end. Maybe he had been afraid of what he would see, maybe he just didn't want to spoil the surprise. Whatever it was, the Fallen preferred not to think about it too much.
