Disclaimer: I do not claim that all the information portrayed here is accurate, seeing as I don't have any books on Angelology, Demonology, or even Theology in general. Just remember, this is a fictional story. Not a textbook.
Note: This story, is in no way, blasphemy, as a certain someone (not on these forums, obviously) has told me. Blasphemy is (as stated in the dictionary) "the act of depriving something of its sacred character.", and as far as I'm concerned, I don't see any of that here. I am a Catholic, and before I write something so blasphemous that people begin to question their faith, I'd have long died.
Six Wings
Prologue...
Dark clouds loomed above as a lone farmer stood in the middle of the field, gazing at the bountiful harvest he would have. The fields were overflowing with the crop, so fertile.
As winds swept across, the crops followed, swaying in the wind, oblivious to their fate. Carefully, the farmer bent down and examined one, pinching a leaf, and clutching it between his thumb and index finger. He eyed it carefully. They were perfect.
Standing up, he raised his arm high against the wind and let go of the leaf; he was satisfied. Slowly, he drew his scythe, and began slashing at the crops, harvesting them. Reaping them. Left. Right. Left. Right.
By the end of the day, he looked at the fields once more. Empty. With a satisfied look on his face, he turned around and headed for his truck, his crop loaded, and ready to go home.
Beyond the horizon sank a blazing red sun, setting vehemently into the west. Down. Going deeper, and deeper, until total darkness covered the land.
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Fics: Angel Incarnate: If you were offered the chance to be as God, would you take it? Would you climb beyond the highest stars, and prostrate yourself before the morning star? Or would you show your wings and take flight?
A bright stream of golden light flowed down the window. Beside it sat Xatriel, on his bed, pondering his thoughts, as six wings erupted from his back like fire, his white robes draping down towards the floor.
The sound of tubular bells brought him back to reality. Slowly, he stood up, and walked towards the wall, where his armor hung. He took the breastplate, then the shoulder pads, the greaves, among other things, and donned them on him. Finally, he took his helmet and wore it around his head. Unlike the rest of the Angelic Choir, a Seraphim’s helmet covered the entire face—including the eyes. That was because Seraphim opted to see with their mind, and not their eyes.
As he let go of his helmet, two of his wings coiled around his head and legs, while the other two draped down towards the floor.
With long strides, he walked towards the door, where a new day greeted him. The scene before him was a typical one; angels running around, going about their daily lives, flying and running here and there.
“It’s so early in the morning…” He whispered to himself, as the sound of bells once more filled the city.
Hastily, he extended his wings and took flight, towards the central structure of Araboth, the Seventh Heaven, where the council of Seraphim resided. It was composed of several tall structures rising into the air like behemoths, with floating platforms surrounding it, where the angels practiced their fencing. At the center of it all was a small, floating sphere, completely covered by the behemoths. A large cross was etched into the stone it was made of, as it slowly revolved clockwise. At the center of the cross was a gate, imbued with celestial fire; to repel all demonic entities.
He quickly flew towards the central structure and entered. Inside, he was greeted by a long corridor that led to the central chamber, filled with countless Seraphim. By the empty look of the corridor, it seemed as if he was already running late. With long and hasty strides, he moved towards the end of the corridor, where a large, ornate door stood.
Not far from there was a Reaper by the name of Azrael, of the order of Dominions. Unlike the other angels of the order, he possessed four wings, as did all the other angels of the legion of Death.
High atop one of the floating platforms, he drew his scythe as he began to face his opponent: Lilith, a fellow Reaper.
Without warning, they both advanced, flapping their wings furiously, scythes drawn. A moment later, their scythes clashed into one another; the other’s blade only inches away from their head.
“You’re getting better!” Lilith remarked sarcastically as she held her stance.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself!” Azrael fired back, slightly chuckling, as he withdrew.
Immediately, Lilith lunged forward, the stone on which they were on slowly eroding into oblivion as she did. Azrael quickly side-stepped and slashed his scythe at her. Instantly, she had a deep cut engraved into her skin, and she took a moment’s rest, landing softly on the stone as she checked on it.
Under the light of the sun, her features seemed to glisten along with it. Azrael couldn’t help but be amazed at her slender body, accompanied by long, flowing black hair. The nails on her finger were over 3 inches long, and bore the color of the night.
Slowly, she looked upward at him.
“Ugh!” She uttered, once more lunging towards him.
Captivated by her beauty, Azrael couldn’t move a muscle, and before long, he found himself falling, her pale white hands gripping his neck, as the earth they once stood on completely disappeared.
It took him a moment to realize she wasn’t hesitating: She was giving it her best. Instinctively, he thrust his index and middle finger into her forehead, and engraved the seal of pain on it. She instantly let go of her grip and clutched her own, as she began spitting out blood.
Azrael was hovering only meters away from the bottom, watching intently at the scene that was unfolding before him. Testing fate, he let her fall dangerously close to the ground before he grabbed her pale arm, and flew up, towards the rooftops.
“You okay?” He said as he gently thrust his fingers once more into her forehead, completely erasing the seal.
“Yeah, I’ll manage.” She disappointingly answered: she’d lost the fight.
Calmly, he lifted her atop the looming pillars and brought her down.
Back at the central sphere, the large doors slowly creaked open as a large number of Seraphim flooded the once empty corridors. Behind the crowd, silent as ever, was Xatriel, still seated down, waiting for the crowd to decrease in number. Across him sat Samael, the current archangel of death, who shot him a devilish glare as he stood up and left the room.
Confused, he reevaluated himself. Had he done something to offend him? Or was his mere presence an insult in itself.
Suddenly, the door slammed shut, and brought him back to reality. He looked around. The room was completely empty. Sighing, he stood up and walked towards the door. As he reached it, he gazed upon the massive structure that loomed before him. Countless inscriptions of exorcism were carefully etched into the fine wood. This came as no surprise to him: this was, after all, the holiest place in the cosmos, next to God’s Throne Itself. But then, two words caught his attention. Engraved into the lower left corner of the door were engraved the words, ‘Lux Infero; Bringer of Light’. He had never heard any mention of those words in any of the countless tomes he’d read throughout the ages.
Drawn back to reality, he grabbed the two large, golden handles and pried it open; they were extremely heavy, even for the Seraphim.
As he opened the door, he saw once more the corridor in front of him, empty. He then walked out of the chamber and out into the deserted corridor, closing the door. Then, he advanced forward, outside, where he was greeted by the golden sunlight he thought he’d never see again.
He knew exactly where to go: the central library of Zebul, the Sixth Heaven.
Note: By the way, if this is in the wrong section or something, please let me know.
Fics: Angel Incarnate: If you were offered the chance to be as God, would you take it? Would you climb beyond the highest stars, and prostrate yourself before the morning star? Or would you show your wings and take flight?
Zebul was a cold place. Snow and ice filled the vicinity, as the occasional hailstorm ravaged the land.
Nevertheless, its denizens roamed about freely. Young angels went out to play in the snow everyday. Angels of water; of healing and knowledge went about the central library, gathering knowledge on the seemingly most insignificant information: to them, knowledge wasn’t significant or insignificant. Knowledge was knowledge. Wisdom was wisdom. They studied it just because it was.
The gates of Zebul’s central library was heavily guarded: it was obvious they valued their knowledge a lot. Xatriel approached cautiously as a guard in sapphire armor walked up to him.
“What brings an angel of fire to our cold land?” The guard asked.
“I just need some information. For the Legion of Fire.”
“What kind of information?”
Xatriel didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t tell him about what he saw back at the central sphere in Araboth. Something told him those two words meant something…dangerous.
“Just let me through. I am on special orders.” He said, in an irritated tone.
Immediately, the guard stepped back, and ordered the others to open the gate for him. Slowly, the massive iron gate rose into the air, inch by inch, lifted by an unseen force. As soon as the opening was large enough to accommodate him, Xatriel stepped through.
A sense of guilt struck him in the chest. It wasn’t becoming of an angel, let alone a Seraphim to lie, but it had to be done: The end would justify the means.
He looked around. The whole place was filled with different tomes on various topics. Angelic scholars roamed the vicinity, gathering books. Xatriel stood in awe at the majestic place. It was the first time he had been here. Carefully, he walked over to one of the shelves, and touched its wooden frame, whilst looking upward. The shelves seemed to disappear into nothing as they rose higher and higher, going on and on. He then began to wonder how anyone would find anything here.
More importantly, he wondered how he would.
He looked around. There had to be some kind of angel in charge of this place. Someone who could help him. With long and fast strides, he began to walk through the library’s vast interior. The shelves seemed to close in on him as they loomed above, watching his every move. It seemed like a maze of books, and Xatriel slowly lost his way. Whichever way he turned, there were books; they all looked the same.
He seemed to be going in circles, in an endless loop of books and tomes. One book, however, caught his attention. He immediately stopped walking and slowly walked towards it. He ran his finger down the books spine, slowly reading the words.
“Plumbing...Through the Ages.” He read out loud. “What the heck is plumbing??”
“Shh!!!” A voice bellowed from behind the shelf.
A spark of hope seemed to ignite within him. There was someone near him. Someone who could help him. He immediately returned the book, and ran towards the other side of the shelf. But he saw nothing but more books. Disappointed, he slowly walked in the other direction; as it was, he’d be happy to just get out of there.
Without realizing it, he’d bumped one of the shelves. A loose book at the very top began hurtling down and hit the floor hard.
Again came the deafening “shh!” from beyond the shelves.
An idea instantly hit him. Xatriel grabbed the nearest book he could find, and hurled it at the ground as loud as he could. Then came the sound that brought him hope. Instantly, he walked to the left; towards the direction of the sound. At the end was a fork in his path. He had to choose left or right.
But that wasn’t a problem.
He walked over to one of the shelves and dropped yet another book. He heard the sound coming from his right.
Instantly, he heard footsteps growing louder and louder. This was it. He was saved. Moments later, a young, slender angel with short blue hair and glasses appeared in front of him.
“Can you PLEASE keep it down!? Other people are trying to study here!” She barked, as she began walking back the way she came.
“Wait!” Xatriel exclaimed. “I need help!”
“What!?” She bellowed, growing nearer and nearer.
“I can’t find a book.”
“If I help you, will you finally shut up and give people the rest they deserve!?”
“Of course.” He began, igniting a flame in the palm of his hand, holding it close to his chest. “An angel of fire keeps his promises.”
The woman stood, awestricken. She hadn’t realized who he was until now.
Sagun, the Third Heaven, was a contrast of bliss and suffering. In the southern reaches of the land was paradise; nature at its best. The northern reach, however, were the Gates of Hell.
A river of blood flowed from the top of the terraces of Purgatory, where sinners atoned from their sins, their blood, flowing down from the terraces, and into Hell itself.
Samael, the current Archangel of Death, rode the waves of the river on a boat, pulled by those who could not atone for their sins in Purgatory, chains seared and attached to their backs. They struggled to move the boat forward, swimming as fast as they could, but the river was too strong, and they were drowning in their own blood. Yet they could not die a second time, and be relieved of the pain and suffering they felt, for they were already dead. Instead, they felt never-ending pain, flowing through their body day and night, without rest, without sleep.
At long last, they reached the Gates of Hell. It was a massive gate of pure black, with its bars showing signs of struggle—scratch marks. At the top was a sign that read, “Abandon hope all ye who enter.”
Samael stepped forth from the boat and stepped onto the riverbanks. He unhooked their chains from his boat and opened the gates by simply touching them. The sinners began to shudder in pain, screaming, crying.
“You were given a chance at salvation.” Samael said to them, as he usually did to people entering Hell, “But you blew it.”
With that, he pulled the chains and led them into Hell. As the gates closed behind them, they knew their fate was sealed forever.
“Oh gosh. You’re Xatriel, aren’t you? The Archangel of Fire?” The woman began, dumbfounded. “I-I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you. I-I had no idea…”
“It’s alright. It’s alright. Just show me what I need and I’ll be off.”
“Okay,” She answered.
“Alright?”
“Sure.”
“Fine.”
A moment of silence.
“What exactly is it you need?” She asked.
Immediately, Xatriel ushered her into a small corner where he began to speak in hushed tones.
“You must swear to me that you will not, under any circumstances, reveal to anyone what I ask for and what I find.” He told her.
“Of course.”
“Right. I need to know more about Lux Infero.”
“Lux Infero?” She asked, repeating to see if she understood right.
“Yes.”
“I’ll have to look through our archives. Come with me.” She said as she led him to her workstation, where she sat down and accessed the library’s computer system. On-screen, Xatriel saw her type in the words, ‘Lux Infero’. It took a while before the computer finally showed up any results.
What they saw shocked them.
Flashed on-screen was only one result. A tome by the name, ’Lux Infero et Caduca’. It was in the restricted section, where only the Ophanim, Cherbuim and Seraphim were allowed.
Fortunately for him, Xatriel was a Seraphim.
“It’s in the restricted section. You’re permitted inside, but I’m not. You’ll have to go alone.”
“Where is it?”
“Follow this aisle in front of you, then make a left turn at the sixth intersection. It should be at the end.”
“Okay, thanks.” He said, and bade her goodbye.
At this point he could practically feel that those words were of great importance. It was restricted for a reason: They didn’t want the lesser angels discovering its contents. Right now, he didn’t care if he got lost on his way out or not.
Once again, Xatriel found himself within a maze of books. But the words of the librarian seemed to be engraved into his head: ‘Make a left at the sixth intersection. It should be at the end.”
“One…two...three…” He counted as he passed the intersections. “Four…five…”
“…six.”
Immediately, he looked to his left. At the far end was a dark area, where no light seemed to penetrate it. An ominous feeling began to overcome him. He was so close, yet it all seemed insignificant. He felt like he was as far from it as when he began.
He knew that reading the tomes contents would change the way he thinks, and the way he acts, and he feared this the most, because, after all, it was his way of thinking and acting that made him the Archangel of Fire, and gave him the revered rank of Seraphim.
Carefully, he walked along the dark corridor. The moment seemed to take ages, but at long last, he was finally beneath the small, glass door. Above it, written in a large, bold font, was one word: “Restricted”.
Slowly, he reached out for the handle, and pulled hard.
Note: Could anyone criticize my work or something? Like tell me what's missing and stuff?
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Fics: Angel Incarnate: If you were offered the chance to be as God, would you take it? Would you climb beyond the highest stars, and prostrate yourself before the morning star? Or would you show your wings and take flight?
Chapter 3... Slowly, in the horizon, the once vigorous sun began its descent. Azrael was flying high in the clouds, pondering his thoughts. He remembered the deep cut he had given Lilith. And not to forget the seal he had imprinted on her. It was all rushing back like the ghost of a long lost friend haunting him. Only moments earlier, they were standing on the rooftops of Araboth, the hot blazing sun overhead, scorching them. “I didn’t…I didn’t hurt you to much, did I?” He asked, breaking the silence that seemed to last for ages. “Oh…you think?” She fire back, annoyed, and staring at her wound. “I’m…I’m…” Azrael paused for a moment. He knew he would have to swallow his pride, lest he find a new enemy. “I’m sorry.” He uttered awkwardly. Lilith spat on the ground they were on. “Whatever!” She exclaimed, flying away. Azrael stared at the transparent liquid bubbling in front of him as he sighed and flew off in the opposite direction.
“The fallen bringer of light.” Xatriel read aloud from the massive, dusty tome in front of him. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense at all. A bringer of light was supposed to be the highest of angels, right next to the Holy Trinity itself! For a bringer of light to join the ranks of the fallen was like a Seraphim becoming human! It was blasphemy—no wonder it was in the restricted section. “The bringer of light was said to have been the greatest of the angels, and bore twelve wings; six on either side. ”Xatriel continued, running his fingers along the almost illegible words. “He was an angel of great beauty and light, with long, straight golden hair with platinum highlights that crept down his back, running four inches below his shoulder. His eyes were said to be as blue as the sky, and had a very stunning, gorgeous appearance.” “He planned a revolt against God, plotting to dethrone Him and take the Throne for himself. Of course, God was still the most powerful being in the cosmos, and he was eventually banished and sent to Hell, in the northern part of Sagun.“ Xatriel eyed the book. Those were only the first few lines of the whole book, and yet hundreds of pages were yet to be read. Skimming through the entire book, he finally stopped at the last page. At the very bottom was the very sentence he was looking for, written in Italics. “’Lux Infero et Caduca’ literally means, ‘Lucifer and the Fallen’.” The words hit him like a train. Lucifer, he who is bound by chains, banished from paradise. It was he who first sinned. It was he who created sin. One thing was standing out, blaringly wrong; why would a name such as his be written within a very holy place?
Without realizing it, the sun had already descended into the abyss. A cold breeze swept past, sending shivers down his spine. “The night has come.” Azrael uttered to himself as he wrapped himself around two wings; keeping him warm. Mathey was still a long way to go. He had to fly slower than usual; holding his scythe near his body, wrapped around in wings was quite dangerous. At any moment, he could slash himself, especially since a Reaper’s scythe was one of the sharpest weapons in Heaven. With nothing to do, he pictured the scene that would greet him when he came. Samael would be in his chamber, down below the tower. The moment Azrael arrived, he would burst out of his fiery furnace and glare at him, Lilith standing beside Samael. “What is the meaning of this?” He’d calmly utter. There was no need to lose his cool and start bellowing as loud as he could; the glaring did all the work. “Angels, do not harm other angels, much less do Reapers slash at other Reapers!” Lilith, who had always been the archangel’s favorite, would exaggerate the smallest thing, and have him eating out of the palm of her hand. But then again, the wound looked quite deep. Suddenly, a torrent of fire erupted from the horizon. Azrael immediately shielded his whole body in retaliation. He could hear screams and roars of pain and terror. Slowly, he opened his eyes as he extended his wings once more. The night sky had been engulfed in a blazing inferno. Something big was happening.
Xatriel sat back on his chair in disbelief. He’d spent hours trying to find this one tome. And it wasn’t an easy task. Only the smartest being in the cosmos would consider finding a book among thousands of others upon shelves twenty times his height in less than an hour easy. Xatriel had to fly up for as long as 2 minutes just to find out the book wasn’t there. The frustration he felt was colossal. Instantly, he knew he had been involved in a controversial ploy; someone—or something—was plotting against the Heavens. Not wanting to have anything more to do with the whole thing, he stood up, returned the book, and walked out of the restricted section, greeted once more by the endless maze of books. When he finally reached the gate, he immediately began banging hard on it. “Open the gate!” He yelled. But the gate guards never answered. The silence of the library was broken by the sounds of terror—screams and cries for help. Something was definitely going on. The shelves began to shake, as random books and pages began falling from the higher parts. “What in Heaven’s name is going on!?” He uttered out loud as the shelves themselves began crumbling to the ground. An ominous feeling began to surge throughout his body—he knew he had to get out, and fast. He pressed his hands against the gate and set them on fire, purging through the gate. He couldn’t care less about the library’s welfare—why would he? It was already in ruins. Slowly, his hands sunk deeper and deeper into the iron. But slowly wasn’t good enough.
He felt the ground shaking beneath him. It wasn’t going to work. Immediately, he pulled back his arms, and stepped a few feet away. He aimed his left arm at the gate as an arch of fire appeared from his wrist—as if, a bow. He put his right hand into the flames and pulled backwards, as if pulling back the arrow from the bow, as a stream of fire followed his hand. Taking careful aim, a large, ornate, immaterial ring appeared at the tip of the arrow before he released it, several other rings appearing in its wake. As it drew nearer, the arrow grew in proportion, until it was massive in size, and finally struck the gate down. Xatriel expected the cold, winter air to come bursting inside, but it never came. Instead, all he saw was an onslaught of chaos raging before him. Without thinking, he extended his wings and took flight, into the heart of the chaos.
The scene unfolding before Azrael was a gruesome one. Angels were being slaughtered by demons everywhere. Entities of pure evil ravaged the land. In the distance, he could hear a deafening roar, like that from a thousand angels. He knew he had to do something. Scythe in hand, he began flapping his wings furiously. Directly below him, a demon was harassing a female angel, about to slaughter her. Azrael swept past and slashed its soul into oblivion. “Are you alright?” He asked her, helping her up. “Yes, but there are others.” Came her reply, as she pointed to the distance. Suddenly, a demon appeared from behind. Azrael quickly grabbed it by the neck, and its skin instantly began to decay and rot. He then threw away its body, and advanced forward; towards the chaos. Like a farmer reaping the fields, this was what death angels did best. Reaping souls. Without thinking, he slashed his scythe, left to right, whilst flapping his wings vehemently—he knew that, no matter what he did, he would hit something. Without mercy, he ripped the demons apart with his scythe. To others who got lucky enough, he imbued them with the seal of pain. They would not die, but they would feel pain for as long as the seal stayed; a fate worse than death: eternal torture. Without warning, a demon grabbed his wings. Instantly, he fell to the ground, where a thousand demons began to ravage his being. Then, out of nowhere, bolts of fire seemed to inflame the demons.
The angel who fought against the demons was skilled, but he would not be able to take out a thousand demons at once. With his bow and arrow of fire, he shot them mercilessly, striking fire as often as rain fell during a storm. His wings were literally consumed by fire as he effortlessly struck down the opposing demons. As he flew around, a torrent of fire followed his wake; he became the living embodiment of God’s purging fire. Flying towards the beaten angel, he shot the last few remaining demons. The angel had four wings and jet black hair that covered his ears and crept down his spine up to the tip of his shoulders; he was a Reaper. “Get up.” Came Xatriel’s cold voice. Slowly, the angel opened his eyes. “Who…” He uttered, severely weakened, “Who…are…you?” “I could ask you the same question.” Filled with vigor, the angel stood up once more and slashed at the infernal beings. Xatriel took his bow and shot them with deadly accuracy and power in such rapid succession that it seemed he was firing ten arrows at once. Though all that power was nothing compared to the evil fast approaching. In the horizon stood more demons, filled with fury, amongst them stood a demon with such immense power and influence that Death itself trembled in fear before it.
Note: Is anyone even reading this?
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Fics: Angel Incarnate: If you were offered the chance to be as God, would you take it? Would you climb beyond the highest stars, and prostrate yourself before the morning star? Or would you show your wings and take flight?
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Note: This story, is in no way, blasphemy, as a certain someone (not on these forums, obviously) has told me. Blasphemy is (as stated in the dictionary) "the act of depriving something of its sacred character.", and as far as I'm concerned, I don't see any of that here. I am a Catholic, and before I write something so blasphemous that people begin to question their faith, I'd have long died.
Six Wings
Prologue...
Dark clouds loomed above as a lone farmer stood in the middle of the field, gazing at the bountiful harvest he would have. The fields were overflowing with the crop, so fertile.
As winds swept across, the crops followed, swaying in the wind, oblivious to their fate. Carefully, the farmer bent down and examined one, pinching a leaf, and clutching it between his thumb and index finger. He eyed it carefully. They were perfect.
Standing up, he raised his arm high against the wind and let go of the leaf; he was satisfied. Slowly, he drew his scythe, and began slashing at the crops, harvesting them. Reaping them. Left. Right. Left. Right.
By the end of the day, he looked at the fields once more. Empty. With a satisfied look on his face, he turned around and headed for his truck, his crop loaded, and ready to go home.
Beyond the horizon sank a blazing red sun, setting vehemently into the west. Down. Going deeper, and deeper, until total darkness covered the land.
Angel Incarnate: If you were offered the chance to be as God, would you take it? Would you climb beyond the highest stars, and prostrate yourself before the morning star? Or would you show your wings and take flight?
A bright stream of golden light flowed down the window. Beside it sat Xatriel, on his bed, pondering his thoughts, as six wings erupted from his back like fire, his white robes draping down towards the floor.
The sound of tubular bells brought him back to reality. Slowly, he stood up, and walked towards the wall, where his armor hung. He took the breastplate, then the shoulder pads, the greaves, among other things, and donned them on him. Finally, he took his helmet and wore it around his head. Unlike the rest of the Angelic Choir, a Seraphim’s helmet covered the entire face—including the eyes. That was because Seraphim opted to see with their mind, and not their eyes.
As he let go of his helmet, two of his wings coiled around his head and legs, while the other two draped down towards the floor.
With long strides, he walked towards the door, where a new day greeted him. The scene before him was a typical one; angels running around, going about their daily lives, flying and running here and there.
“It’s so early in the morning…” He whispered to himself, as the sound of bells once more filled the city.
Hastily, he extended his wings and took flight, towards the central structure of Araboth, the Seventh Heaven, where the council of Seraphim resided. It was composed of several tall structures rising into the air like behemoths, with floating platforms surrounding it, where the angels practiced their fencing. At the center of it all was a small, floating sphere, completely covered by the behemoths. A large cross was etched into the stone it was made of, as it slowly revolved clockwise. At the center of the cross was a gate, imbued with celestial fire; to repel all demonic entities.
He quickly flew towards the central structure and entered. Inside, he was greeted by a long corridor that led to the central chamber, filled with countless Seraphim. By the empty look of the corridor, it seemed as if he was already running late. With long and hasty strides, he moved towards the end of the corridor, where a large, ornate door stood.
Not far from there was a Reaper by the name of Azrael, of the order of Dominions. Unlike the other angels of the order, he possessed four wings, as did all the other angels of the legion of Death.
High atop one of the floating platforms, he drew his scythe as he began to face his opponent: Lilith, a fellow Reaper.
Without warning, they both advanced, flapping their wings furiously, scythes drawn. A moment later, their scythes clashed into one another; the other’s blade only inches away from their head.
“You’re getting better!” Lilith remarked sarcastically as she held her stance.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself!” Azrael fired back, slightly chuckling, as he withdrew.
Immediately, Lilith lunged forward, the stone on which they were on slowly eroding into oblivion as she did. Azrael quickly side-stepped and slashed his scythe at her. Instantly, she had a deep cut engraved into her skin, and she took a moment’s rest, landing softly on the stone as she checked on it.
Under the light of the sun, her features seemed to glisten along with it. Azrael couldn’t help but be amazed at her slender body, accompanied by long, flowing black hair. The nails on her finger were over 3 inches long, and bore the color of the night.
Slowly, she looked upward at him.
“Ugh!” She uttered, once more lunging towards him.
Captivated by her beauty, Azrael couldn’t move a muscle, and before long, he found himself falling, her pale white hands gripping his neck, as the earth they once stood on completely disappeared.
It took him a moment to realize she wasn’t hesitating: She was giving it her best. Instinctively, he thrust his index and middle finger into her forehead, and engraved the seal of pain on it. She instantly let go of her grip and clutched her own, as she began spitting out blood.
Azrael was hovering only meters away from the bottom, watching intently at the scene that was unfolding before him. Testing fate, he let her fall dangerously close to the ground before he grabbed her pale arm, and flew up, towards the rooftops.
“You okay?” He said as he gently thrust his fingers once more into her forehead, completely erasing the seal.
“Yeah, I’ll manage.” She disappointingly answered: she’d lost the fight.
Calmly, he lifted her atop the looming pillars and brought her down.
Back at the central sphere, the large doors slowly creaked open as a large number of Seraphim flooded the once empty corridors. Behind the crowd, silent as ever, was Xatriel, still seated down, waiting for the crowd to decrease in number. Across him sat Samael, the current archangel of death, who shot him a devilish glare as he stood up and left the room.
Confused, he reevaluated himself. Had he done something to offend him? Or was his mere presence an insult in itself.
Suddenly, the door slammed shut, and brought him back to reality. He looked around. The room was completely empty. Sighing, he stood up and walked towards the door. As he reached it, he gazed upon the massive structure that loomed before him. Countless inscriptions of exorcism were carefully etched into the fine wood. This came as no surprise to him: this was, after all, the holiest place in the cosmos, next to God’s Throne Itself. But then, two words caught his attention. Engraved into the lower left corner of the door were engraved the words, ‘Lux Infero; Bringer of Light’. He had never heard any mention of those words in any of the countless tomes he’d read throughout the ages.
Drawn back to reality, he grabbed the two large, golden handles and pried it open; they were extremely heavy, even for the Seraphim.
As he opened the door, he saw once more the corridor in front of him, empty. He then walked out of the chamber and out into the deserted corridor, closing the door. Then, he advanced forward, outside, where he was greeted by the golden sunlight he thought he’d never see again.
He knew exactly where to go: the central library of Zebul, the Sixth Heaven.
Note: By the way, if this is in the wrong section or something, please let me know.
Angel Incarnate: If you were offered the chance to be as God, would you take it? Would you climb beyond the highest stars, and prostrate yourself before the morning star? Or would you show your wings and take flight?
Zebul was a cold place. Snow and ice filled the vicinity, as the occasional hailstorm ravaged the land.
Nevertheless, its denizens roamed about freely. Young angels went out to play in the snow everyday. Angels of water; of healing and knowledge went about the central library, gathering knowledge on the seemingly most insignificant information: to them, knowledge wasn’t significant or insignificant. Knowledge was knowledge. Wisdom was wisdom. They studied it just because it was.
The gates of Zebul’s central library was heavily guarded: it was obvious they valued their knowledge a lot. Xatriel approached cautiously as a guard in sapphire armor walked up to him.
“What brings an angel of fire to our cold land?” The guard asked.
“I just need some information. For the Legion of Fire.”
“What kind of information?”
Xatriel didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t tell him about what he saw back at the central sphere in Araboth. Something told him those two words meant something…dangerous.
“Just let me through. I am on special orders.” He said, in an irritated tone.
Immediately, the guard stepped back, and ordered the others to open the gate for him. Slowly, the massive iron gate rose into the air, inch by inch, lifted by an unseen force. As soon as the opening was large enough to accommodate him, Xatriel stepped through.
A sense of guilt struck him in the chest. It wasn’t becoming of an angel, let alone a Seraphim to lie, but it had to be done: The end would justify the means.
He looked around. The whole place was filled with different tomes on various topics. Angelic scholars roamed the vicinity, gathering books. Xatriel stood in awe at the majestic place. It was the first time he had been here. Carefully, he walked over to one of the shelves, and touched its wooden frame, whilst looking upward. The shelves seemed to disappear into nothing as they rose higher and higher, going on and on. He then began to wonder how anyone would find anything here.
More importantly, he wondered how he would.
He looked around. There had to be some kind of angel in charge of this place. Someone who could help him. With long and fast strides, he began to walk through the library’s vast interior. The shelves seemed to close in on him as they loomed above, watching his every move. It seemed like a maze of books, and Xatriel slowly lost his way. Whichever way he turned, there were books; they all looked the same.
He seemed to be going in circles, in an endless loop of books and tomes. One book, however, caught his attention. He immediately stopped walking and slowly walked towards it. He ran his finger down the books spine, slowly reading the words.
“Plumbing...Through the Ages.” He read out loud. “What the heck is plumbing??”
“Shh!!!” A voice bellowed from behind the shelf.
A spark of hope seemed to ignite within him. There was someone near him. Someone who could help him. He immediately returned the book, and ran towards the other side of the shelf. But he saw nothing but more books. Disappointed, he slowly walked in the other direction; as it was, he’d be happy to just get out of there.
Without realizing it, he’d bumped one of the shelves. A loose book at the very top began hurtling down and hit the floor hard.
Again came the deafening “shh!” from beyond the shelves.
An idea instantly hit him. Xatriel grabbed the nearest book he could find, and hurled it at the ground as loud as he could. Then came the sound that brought him hope. Instantly, he walked to the left; towards the direction of the sound. At the end was a fork in his path. He had to choose left or right.
But that wasn’t a problem.
He walked over to one of the shelves and dropped yet another book. He heard the sound coming from his right.
Instantly, he heard footsteps growing louder and louder. This was it. He was saved. Moments later, a young, slender angel with short blue hair and glasses appeared in front of him.
“Can you PLEASE keep it down!? Other people are trying to study here!” She barked, as she began walking back the way she came.
“Wait!” Xatriel exclaimed. “I need help!”
“What!?” She bellowed, growing nearer and nearer.
“I can’t find a book.”
“If I help you, will you finally shut up and give people the rest they deserve!?”
“Of course.” He began, igniting a flame in the palm of his hand, holding it close to his chest. “An angel of fire keeps his promises.”
The woman stood, awestricken. She hadn’t realized who he was until now.
Sagun, the Third Heaven, was a contrast of bliss and suffering. In the southern reaches of the land was paradise; nature at its best. The northern reach, however, were the Gates of Hell.
A river of blood flowed from the top of the terraces of Purgatory, where sinners atoned from their sins, their blood, flowing down from the terraces, and into Hell itself.
Samael, the current Archangel of Death, rode the waves of the river on a boat, pulled by those who could not atone for their sins in Purgatory, chains seared and attached to their backs. They struggled to move the boat forward, swimming as fast as they could, but the river was too strong, and they were drowning in their own blood. Yet they could not die a second time, and be relieved of the pain and suffering they felt, for they were already dead. Instead, they felt never-ending pain, flowing through their body day and night, without rest, without sleep.
At long last, they reached the Gates of Hell. It was a massive gate of pure black, with its bars showing signs of struggle—scratch marks. At the top was a sign that read, “Abandon hope all ye who enter.”
Samael stepped forth from the boat and stepped onto the riverbanks. He unhooked their chains from his boat and opened the gates by simply touching them. The sinners began to shudder in pain, screaming, crying.
“You were given a chance at salvation.” Samael said to them, as he usually did to people entering Hell, “But you blew it.”
With that, he pulled the chains and led them into Hell. As the gates closed behind them, they knew their fate was sealed forever.
“Oh gosh. You’re Xatriel, aren’t you? The Archangel of Fire?” The woman began, dumbfounded. “I-I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you. I-I had no idea…”
“It’s alright. It’s alright. Just show me what I need and I’ll be off.”
“Okay,” She answered.
“Alright?”
“Sure.”
“Fine.”
A moment of silence.
“What exactly is it you need?” She asked.
Immediately, Xatriel ushered her into a small corner where he began to speak in hushed tones.
“You must swear to me that you will not, under any circumstances, reveal to anyone what I ask for and what I find.” He told her.
“Of course.”
“Right. I need to know more about Lux Infero.”
“Lux Infero?” She asked, repeating to see if she understood right.
“Yes.”
“I’ll have to look through our archives. Come with me.” She said as she led him to her workstation, where she sat down and accessed the library’s computer system. On-screen, Xatriel saw her type in the words, ‘Lux Infero’. It took a while before the computer finally showed up any results.
What they saw shocked them.
Flashed on-screen was only one result. A tome by the name, ’Lux Infero et Caduca’. It was in the restricted section, where only the Ophanim, Cherbuim and Seraphim were allowed.
Fortunately for him, Xatriel was a Seraphim.
“It’s in the restricted section. You’re permitted inside, but I’m not. You’ll have to go alone.”
“Where is it?”
“Follow this aisle in front of you, then make a left turn at the sixth intersection. It should be at the end.”
“Okay, thanks.” He said, and bade her goodbye.
At this point he could practically feel that those words were of great importance. It was restricted for a reason: They didn’t want the lesser angels discovering its contents. Right now, he didn’t care if he got lost on his way out or not.
Once again, Xatriel found himself within a maze of books. But the words of the librarian seemed to be engraved into his head: ‘Make a left at the sixth intersection. It should be at the end.”
“One…two...three…” He counted as he passed the intersections. “Four…five…”
“…six.”
Immediately, he looked to his left. At the far end was a dark area, where no light seemed to penetrate it. An ominous feeling began to overcome him. He was so close, yet it all seemed insignificant. He felt like he was as far from it as when he began.
He knew that reading the tomes contents would change the way he thinks, and the way he acts, and he feared this the most, because, after all, it was his way of thinking and acting that made him the Archangel of Fire, and gave him the revered rank of Seraphim.
Carefully, he walked along the dark corridor. The moment seemed to take ages, but at long last, he was finally beneath the small, glass door. Above it, written in a large, bold font, was one word: “Restricted”.
Slowly, he reached out for the handle, and pulled hard.
Note: Could anyone criticize my work or something? Like tell me what's missing and stuff?
Angel Incarnate: If you were offered the chance to be as God, would you take it? Would you climb beyond the highest stars, and prostrate yourself before the morning star? Or would you show your wings and take flight?
Slowly, in the horizon, the once vigorous sun began its descent. Azrael was flying high in the clouds, pondering his thoughts. He remembered the deep cut he had given Lilith. And not to forget the seal he had imprinted on her. It was all rushing back like the ghost of a long lost friend haunting him.
Only moments earlier, they were standing on the rooftops of Araboth, the hot blazing sun overhead, scorching them.
“I didn’t…I didn’t hurt you to much, did I?” He asked, breaking the silence that seemed to last for ages.
“Oh…you think?” She fire back, annoyed, and staring at her wound.
“I’m…I’m…” Azrael paused for a moment. He knew he would have to swallow his pride, lest he find a new enemy.
“I’m sorry.” He uttered awkwardly.
Lilith spat on the ground they were on.
“Whatever!” She exclaimed, flying away.
Azrael stared at the transparent liquid bubbling in front of him as he sighed and flew off in the opposite direction.
“The fallen bringer of light.” Xatriel read aloud from the massive, dusty tome in front of him. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense at all. A bringer of light was supposed to be the highest of angels, right next to the Holy Trinity itself! For a bringer of light to join the ranks of the fallen was like a Seraphim becoming human! It was blasphemy—no wonder it was in the restricted section.
“The bringer of light was said to have been the greatest of the angels, and bore twelve wings; six on either side. ”Xatriel continued, running his fingers along the almost illegible words. “He was an angel of great beauty and light, with long, straight golden hair with platinum highlights that crept down his back, running four inches below his shoulder. His eyes were said to be as blue as the sky, and had a very stunning, gorgeous appearance.”
“He planned a revolt against God, plotting to dethrone Him and take the Throne for himself. Of course, God was still the most powerful being in the cosmos, and he was eventually banished and sent to Hell, in the northern part of Sagun.“
Xatriel eyed the book. Those were only the first few lines of the whole book, and yet hundreds of pages were yet to be read. Skimming through the entire book, he finally stopped at the last page. At the very bottom was the very sentence he was looking for, written in Italics.
“’Lux Infero et Caduca’ literally means, ‘Lucifer and the Fallen’.”
The words hit him like a train. Lucifer, he who is bound by chains, banished from paradise. It was he who first sinned. It was he who created sin.
One thing was standing out, blaringly wrong; why would a name such as his be written within a very holy place?
Without realizing it, the sun had already descended into the abyss. A cold breeze swept past, sending shivers down his spine.
“The night has come.” Azrael uttered to himself as he wrapped himself around two wings; keeping him warm. Mathey was still a long way to go.
He had to fly slower than usual; holding his scythe near his body, wrapped around in wings was quite dangerous. At any moment, he could slash himself, especially since a Reaper’s scythe was one of the sharpest weapons in Heaven.
With nothing to do, he pictured the scene that would greet him when he came.
Samael would be in his chamber, down below the tower. The moment Azrael arrived, he would burst out of his fiery furnace and glare at him, Lilith standing beside Samael.
“What is the meaning of this?” He’d calmly utter. There was no need to lose his cool and start bellowing as loud as he could; the glaring did all the work. “Angels, do not harm other angels, much less do Reapers slash at other Reapers!”
Lilith, who had always been the archangel’s favorite, would exaggerate the smallest thing, and have him eating out of the palm of her hand.
But then again, the wound looked quite deep.
Suddenly, a torrent of fire erupted from the horizon. Azrael immediately shielded his whole body in retaliation. He could hear screams and roars of pain and terror. Slowly, he opened his eyes as he extended his wings once more. The night sky had been engulfed in a blazing inferno.
Something big was happening.
Xatriel sat back on his chair in disbelief. He’d spent hours trying to find this one tome. And it wasn’t an easy task. Only the smartest being in the cosmos would consider finding a book among thousands of others upon shelves twenty times his height in less than an hour easy. Xatriel had to fly up for as long as 2 minutes just to find out the book wasn’t there. The frustration he felt was colossal.
Instantly, he knew he had been involved in a controversial ploy; someone—or something—was plotting against the Heavens.
Not wanting to have anything more to do with the whole thing, he stood up, returned the book, and walked out of the restricted section, greeted once more by the endless maze of books.
When he finally reached the gate, he immediately began banging hard on it. “Open the gate!” He yelled.
But the gate guards never answered.
The silence of the library was broken by the sounds of terror—screams and cries for help. Something was definitely going on. The shelves began to shake, as random books and pages began falling from the higher parts.
“What in Heaven’s name is going on!?” He uttered out loud as the shelves themselves began crumbling to the ground. An ominous feeling began to surge throughout his body—he knew he had to get out, and fast.
He pressed his hands against the gate and set them on fire, purging through the gate. He couldn’t care less about the library’s welfare—why would he? It was already in ruins. Slowly, his hands sunk deeper and deeper into the iron.
But slowly wasn’t good enough.
He felt the ground shaking beneath him. It wasn’t going to work. Immediately, he pulled back his arms, and stepped a few feet away. He aimed his left arm at the gate as an arch of fire appeared from his wrist—as if, a bow. He put his right hand into the flames and pulled backwards, as if pulling back the arrow from the bow, as a stream of fire followed his hand. Taking careful aim, a large, ornate, immaterial ring appeared at the tip of the arrow before he released it, several other rings appearing in its wake. As it drew nearer, the arrow grew in proportion, until it was massive in size, and finally struck the gate down.
Xatriel expected the cold, winter air to come bursting inside, but it never came. Instead, all he saw was an onslaught of chaos raging before him. Without thinking, he extended his wings and took flight, into the heart of the chaos.
The scene unfolding before Azrael was a gruesome one. Angels were being slaughtered by demons everywhere. Entities of pure evil ravaged the land. In the distance, he could hear a deafening roar, like that from a thousand angels.
He knew he had to do something. Scythe in hand, he began flapping his wings furiously. Directly below him, a demon was harassing a female angel, about to slaughter her. Azrael swept past and slashed its soul into oblivion.
“Are you alright?” He asked her, helping her up.
“Yes, but there are others.” Came her reply, as she pointed to the distance.
Suddenly, a demon appeared from behind. Azrael quickly grabbed it by the neck, and its skin instantly began to decay and rot. He then threw away its body, and advanced forward; towards the chaos.
Like a farmer reaping the fields, this was what death angels did best. Reaping souls. Without thinking, he slashed his scythe, left to right, whilst flapping his wings vehemently—he knew that, no matter what he did, he would hit something.
Without mercy, he ripped the demons apart with his scythe. To others who got lucky enough, he imbued them with the seal of pain. They would not die, but they would feel pain for as long as the seal stayed; a fate worse than death: eternal torture.
Without warning, a demon grabbed his wings. Instantly, he fell to the ground, where a thousand demons began to ravage his being.
Then, out of nowhere, bolts of fire seemed to inflame the demons.
The angel who fought against the demons was skilled, but he would not be able to take out a thousand demons at once. With his bow and arrow of fire, he shot them mercilessly, striking fire as often as rain fell during a storm. His wings were literally consumed by fire as he effortlessly struck down the opposing demons. As he flew around, a torrent of fire followed his wake; he became the living embodiment of God’s purging fire.
Flying towards the beaten angel, he shot the last few remaining demons. The angel had four wings and jet black hair that covered his ears and crept down his spine up to the tip of his shoulders; he was a Reaper.
“Get up.” Came Xatriel’s cold voice.
Slowly, the angel opened his eyes.
“Who…” He uttered, severely weakened, “Who…are…you?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
Filled with vigor, the angel stood up once more and slashed at the infernal beings. Xatriel took his bow and shot them with deadly accuracy and power in such rapid succession that it seemed he was firing ten arrows at once.
Though all that power was nothing compared to the evil fast approaching. In the horizon stood more demons, filled with fury, amongst them stood a demon with such immense power and influence that Death itself trembled in fear before it.
Note: Is anyone even reading this?
Angel Incarnate: If you were offered the chance to be as God, would you take it? Would you climb beyond the highest stars, and prostrate yourself before the morning star? Or would you show your wings and take flight?