by Darcy Town
Belial smiled and laughed. She jumped on Berith. Berith picked her up and tossed her into the air. He was unaffected by her appearance, treating her as he would any young angel.
Ignoring this, Gabriel and Paimon conversed. The duo were absorbed in plants and the special relationship they had with dirt. Paimon’s world had returned to a logical, comfortable place. The brothers organized seeds and roots together. They concentrated on the important things, the facts, raw information, and data.
A soft melody slipped inside their numbers and order. They turned and tracked the source of the noise.
Furcas sat by himself on the grass and weaved flowers into a halo of plants. He sang a song without words. Flowers were braided into his hair. He smiled at the colorful petals, touching and smelling them one by one. He found a new flower and wove it into the crown. He existed in his own world of beautiful things.
Dahlia laughed. Look at you!
I was simple and as stupid as a stone. Furcas sighed. I wish I could go back and smack myself.
I think it is darling! You are adorable!
Paimon got up and walked over, trailed by his brother. He pointed to the flower halo. “What is that?”
Furcas blushed and stammered, “The—they are fl—flowers, Archangel.”
“Why?” Paimon looked at Gabriel, but his brother was as mystified by Furcas’ behavior as he was.
Furcas placed the halo on his head with shaking hands. “Pretty.”
“What is pretty?” Paimon’s eyes locked on Furcas and the crown.
Gabriel reached over and poked at the halo. “What does it do?”
Furcas looked between the brothers. To him it was self-evident what beauty was and the purpose it held. He held up a pale blue flower to Paimon. “It does not do. It is appealing to the senses.”
Paimon looked between Furcas and the flower. “Pleasing to the senses is pretty?”
Furcas nodded and handed him the flower. Paimon took it, smelled it, and licked it. The flower had a design, a lifespan, and a function. The color or shape had no meaning outside of those things. Any other attribute was not quantifiable. He did not like this concept that the boy spouted, this idea of pretty. Paimon ate the flower so that it would go away and it did. This pretty thing no longer existed with its incomprehensible purpose. He eyed Furcas in the same manner.
Furcas did not notice the look. He mourned for the vanished flower. “Lost.”
Gabriel looked between Furcas and his brother. He did not understand the conversation. He picked up a handful of earth and put it in Paimon’s hand. “Explain.”
“Yes.” Paimon’s attention left Furcas.
Furcas scooted back from them. He took his flowers with him. He moved quietly, hoping to attract no further notice.
Paimon examined the dirt, but found his eyes drawn back to the flowers in Furcas’ hair, to Furcas himself. He tried to focus on something else, but could not. He could not make sense of the dirt. He scowled. He turned and leapt at Furcas. He pinned him and held him down.
Gabriel jumped to his feet and backed up.
Furcas froze in shock.
“Pretty, pleasing to the senses.” Paimon tore out the flowers in Furcas’ hair and tossed them away. He put his hand to Furcas’ throat. “Pretty has no reason. Things without reason should not be. They have no value.” He took the flower crown from Furcas and tossed it to the side. “Pretty is a distraction, it is unneeded. Pretty is unwanted.” He looked at Furcas. “You are pretty.”
The young Furcas on the ground trembled. “I am Furcas.”
Paimon let him up, turned away, and walked back to his brother. “You are extraneous.”
Furcas scrambled to his feet and ran without looking. He bumped into a sleepy Ladriam. Her mass knocked him back.
Startled, Ladriam dove for Furcas. She helped him sit and took a seat by him. She saw the flowers on the ground around him. “Lovelies!” She picked up the discarded halo of flowers and placed it on her head. She smiled. “You made this?” Furcas nodded cautiously. Ladriam hugged him. “It is beautiful!”
Furcas smiled along with her; the sting of Paimon’s words faded. He picked up the discarded flowers and wove them through her hair. Ladriam laughed and did the same to him.
Lucifer watched them and smiled. He understood beauty; he understood appeal, desire, and love. He touched Ladriam’s flower laden hair and grabbed Furcas’ wrist. Furcas stared at Lucifer’s hand in terror. Lucifer smiled warmly. “Please find more, young one.”
Furcas nodded and got up. “Yes, Primangel.”
Belial’s eyes fell upon Furcas and Ladriam. She ran over, arms wind milling. She plowed into Furcas, sending them both sprawling in a heap.
Furcas kicked his feet. “Belial!”
“Sorry! I want to help!” Belial grinned. Helion helped them both to their feet. The trio ran off to gather flowers. Uriel trailed them. Andrealphus followed.
The flapping of wings accompanied the arrival of Archangels Michael and Barachiel. Barachiel held on to his register, keeping it in front of his chest like a shield against the world. This place was strange to him, and his face showed his unease and uncertainty. He was jumpy and twitched at the sound of Berith’s rumbling laughter.
Michael was not hesitant. Thoughtful, his eyes took in the riot of colors and activity in this new place. His eyes met Lucifer’s and he smiled. “This realm is different, bright, and appealing.”
Lucifer nodded. “A second home.”
Michael saw Ladriam on the ground. His stance shifted from casual to tense.
Lucifer brought Ladriam to his side. “Primangel Ladriam, meet Michael, he is my second.”
Michael’s nod was clipped, and his words short. “That is new.”
Ladriam grinned at him. “Nice to meet you.”
Furcas, Belial, and Helion returned with armfuls of flowers. Ladriam’s eyes lit upon the flowers and she left Lucifer’s side.
Lucifer caught Michael’s eyes and swept his arm out. “Ladriam and I created this place together.”
“You two, together.” Michael looked at Lucifer for answers. “You and her? She is not one of us.”
“She is my other half.”
“I am your second, why—”
“Primangel,” Barachiel interrupted them. “The young, the angels, need to return to Heaven. They have responsibilities there.”
Lucifer nodded and looked at the group. Ladriam watched Furcas and learned how to make a flower crown from his deft fingers. Belial followed along with her. Her tongue stuck out between her lips, and her brows furrowed in concentration. Furcas helped her, moving back and forth between the two.
Lucifer pointed to Furcas. “Furcas stays, for Ladriam has need of him. I will send him back later.”
Paimon glared at Lucifer, but said nothing.
Michael nodded, accepting what Lucifer ordered. He looked at Helion, Gabriel, and Uriel. “Return now.”
Uriel’s eyes fixed on Belial with longing, but he got up, obedient. Gabriel looked between Furcas and Paimon. He wanted to stay with his brother and his friend. He called to Furcas, “You will be back soon?”
Furcas nodded, unsure of why he was allowed to stay.
Helion waited until Uriel was with Barachiel before leaving Belial’s side. He waved to his sister and took off into the air.
Barachiel escorted the angels back to Heaven. Jegudiel, Selaphiel, and a third Archangel landed on the planet in their place. Jegudiel and Selaphiel bowed to Lucifer and Ladriam. Selaphiel introduced them and the third, “Raphael, created at the creation. His ward is healing.”
Ladriam gaped at Raphael. Her face showed a mix of awe and joy. She leapt from Lucifer’s side and hugged him. Raphael hugged her back, equally as excited to see her. Ladriam pulled Raphael away from the group. The two exchanged words in hushed, excited tones.
Dahlia frowned. Why can’t I remember what we said?
I don’t know. I was hoping we’d get to hear. None of us knew what you two said
to each other or why you acted that way.
You didn’t ask?
At the time, it didn’t seem important to ask.
Lucifer watched them talk with curiosity. He pulled Ladriam away and kissed her, drawing all of her attention back to him. Andrealphus did the same with Belial, who giggled. Michael looked away from Lucifer and walked to Berith. Jegudiel was fascinated, looking between the two couples with wonderment. Selaphiel kept his eyes on Raphael.
Raphael wandered to Paimon’s side and stared at the emotionless Archangel.
Paimon eyed him and moved away. Raphael followed him. Paimon frowned. “Stop it.”
Raphael smiled, said nothing, and took off into the air. He buzzed Michael and Berith. He landed in a field of flowers, sending up puffs of pollen in his wake. He cartwheeled through the flowers by himself, his four blue wings making his body look like a pinwheel as he tumbled.
Furcas saw Raphael and the blur of colors and motion. He handed flowers to Belial and chased after Raphael, his senses caught up in this new sight. He watched and dove into the flowers. The two flipped side-by-side, smiling and laughing together.
Paimon watched the pair, his jaw clenched and unclenched, his body tense. With Gabriel gone, he could see nothing but that boy. He stared at Furcas’ discarded flowers. He had to rid himself of this thing. He had to make it go away, just as he had made the flower disappear.
Paimon took to the air. He dove at the pair and grabbed Furcas by the wrist. He flew straight up. He said nothing to the guardian. Paimon looked out across the planet and searched for a remote location to dump the angel.
Furcas watched the others disappear from sight as Paimon soared away with him. He hung from Paimon’s arm like deadweight, too scared to call out to anyone. His heart pounded like a hammer.
From his place among the flowers, Raphael grinned, watching the two grow distant. He ran back to Selaphiel and Jegudiel. The two inclined their heads to the boy. Raphael pointed up. “Time to go back.” They nodded and the trio leapt away from the planet and disappeared back to Heaven.
Andrealphus, Berith, and Belial leapt into the sky, but they did not return to Heaven. They played tag. Belial zoomed towards the moon. Andrealphus easily outpaced and tagged her. Berith came up beside her and they chased Andrealphus. Andrealphus flew towards the sun easily keeping ahead of them.
***
Paimon dropped Furcas into a secluded forest clearing. He touched the ground and folded his arms. Furcas got to his feet and looked up hesitantly. Paimon glared at him, his voice ice cold, “Explain.”
Furcas froze. “What?”
Paimon snarled at him. “Explain yourself!” He pointed at the flowers in Furcas’ hair, his brown eyes. He gestured to the colorful pollen, the artfully splashed hues on his skin. He couldn’t take it. “Explain!”
Furcas gulped. “I do not know what you want, Archangel.”
“Why do you bother me so? Tell me, guardian!”
“I do not know.” Furcas took a step back, then another. “I just am.”
“You distract me! Why did you come at all? Everything about you is wrong! I do not want you here in my sight! I do not want to see you! Leave! Go back to Heaven!”
Furcas could not take the order after Lucifer had said he was to stay on the planet. He shook. He could not flap his wings to fly away, but his feet worked. He fled into the forest, stumbling awkwardly as his wings hit bushes and trees.
Paimon stared after him, satisfied that this distraction was gone. He looked at the stars and things around him and categorized them. He fell into his mental routine of classification.
His chest hurt. His thoughts buzzed and frayed around the edges. He let out a quiet whine. His chest ached and the pain irradiated into his limbs, worsening with each second that passed. Paimon prodded his skin, searching for the wound that hurt him so, but there was nothing. His eyes dropped to flowers in bloom. He clenched his jaw. He looked at the way Furcas had left by.
***
Lucifer and Ladriam watched the others leave and their thoughts turned to each other. He smiled and set her up against a tree. She grinned and wrapped her legs around him. They kissed. He pinned her wrists up above her head with one hand, while his other hand searched and explored. Her soft cries set his skin on fire. He breathed her in, tasted her skin, and became intoxicated off her presence. Like an addict, he sought for more.
Michael watched them and his expression grew cold. He looked away, jumped into the air, and returned to Heaven.
Lucifer let Ladriam’s hands go and took her hips. She draped her arms around his shoulders and held on. She pushed against him, taking him inside her. Waves of heat and light rippled out from them. Flowers turned to butterflies. Spiders formed from the rock. Fish erupted into life in the streams.
The Primangels shone with prismatic light. They learned each other. He moved against her in ways that sent her passion into a fever pitch. White flame licked the earth around them, and from it animals came alive. Their fire stabbed into the earth itself, moving the bones of the planet, inflaming the core into churning molten rock.
***
Across the planet, Furcas panted and stumbled. Tears poured down his cheeks. He ran scared and confused, pained by the blisters on his feet. The first wave of euphoria from Lucifer and Ladriam washed through the planet. He swooned and lost his footing.
Paimon caught up with him and skidded to a stop as his toes curled with the same pleasure. He shook himself off as newly created birds took to the air. He held his head. “What is this?”
Furcas whirled at the sound of Paimon’s voice. He pressed himself against a rock wall, alarmed.
Paimon motioned for Furcas to come to him. Furcas shook his head and edged away. Paimon leapt, grabbed Furcas by his arm, and drug him to his side. At the contact, they gasped. Paimon shook him. “What are you doing to me now?”
Furcas shielded his face. “I am not doing anything, Archangel!”
Paimon gave Furcas a weak shake. “What...I...”
Their eyelids slid closed. Archangel and angel swayed, caught up in Lucifer and Ladriam’s intensifying thrall. Furcas leaned in and kissed Paimon. Paimon did not resist. A hungry fire lit inside him. A sound of surprise and fear escaped his lips.
Furcas realized what he was doing. He jumped back and bowed. “I am sorry, Archangel!”
Paimon touched his lips as desire warred with confusion. He grabbed Furcas by the shoulder and pulled him back. He touched Furcas’ face, chest, and shoulders trying to find where this sensation emanated from. It had to be inside the boy somewhere. If he found it, he could stop it, and he could have his control back. He brushed a hand across Furcas’ wings. The younger angel shuddered and swayed.
Paimon grabbed his other wing and Furcas dropped to the ground. The air between them blurred with heat and possibilities. Furcas fought to breathe. He tried to scoot back, but Paimon would not free him.
Paimon gripped his feathers tighter, bringing them closer together. His skin glowed, searing hot. He burned. His mind and nerves were on fire. He needed, craved, but could not name his desire. He could not remember what he had been trying to do. Why was he here? Heat washed across his skin. His thoughts fragmented into colorful shards of sensation.
Euphoria seeped into them from the earth, wresting away their will and desire to fight. Furcas leaned his head on Paimon’s thigh. He kissed Paimon’s glowing skin. Paimon gasped and stumbled. Furcas held him up.
Paimon’s hands clenched on Furcas’ wings, indecisive, needing, hating, craving. Violence and pleasure strained his head and heart. He wanted to fling Furcas away from him as much as he wanted to keep him there.
Furcas moved upwards, certain in his intent to please. He wrapped his arms around Paimon’s hips and pulled him close. He was cautious, gentle, his lips and tongue slow and deliberate. Ecstasy bubbled in their blood and bones. Thoughts evaporated, leaving senseless action and desire to reign.
Paimon held on to Furcas by his shoulders. One
hand clawed at Furcas’ hair, grabbing it in a knot. His wings shimmered, catching the air on fire. He floated inches off the ground. The dirt and grass smoked with light and heat.
Pleasure crested around them. Paimon threw his head back. He gasped and shuddered. His wings flickered blue and folded closed. He dropped to the ground and stumbled to find his footing. He swayed in shock and let Furcas go.
Furcas smiled, elated and drowsy. He touched his hair where Paimon had grabbed him.
Paimon blinked and regained himself. He looked down. Furcas leaned on his thigh with his eyes closed. A torrent of the boy’s seething feelings wormed through his skin where they touched. Visions whispered through his mind, uncertainties, falsehoods, fear, and madness. Paimon grabbed Furcas by his hair and hurled him away. Furcas hit the ground and rolled. His right wing snapped on impact.
The noise ceased, but things were not right. Paimon shuddered. The barrier between himself and everything else crumbled before his eyes. He stared through his hands, seeking solace in thought, but his numbers and equations slipped away as he sought to hold them. He no longer saw what was. His cold certainties were gone. Everything that mattered to him was gone. His eyes bored into Furcas. He spoke too low for the angel to hear, “What have you done to me?”
Furcas got to his feet and wobbled. Pain mixed with pleasure. He held on to his wing as it healed. He touched his bleeding head and glanced up at Paimon. He gazed at him with love and desire.
Paimon caught glimpses of his former universe in bright flashes. It was disorganized, cluttered with inconsistencies, fallacies, arguments with no end. He stared at Furcas. Before him, he had not felt and he had been perfect. Now he had been touched by that guardian, tainted, corrupted. He felt. He wanted the safety of unfeeling calculations, not this maddening tempest of sensation. He wanted to undo what he had done. He needed to. This was not right. He hissed at Furcas. “You…”
Furcas took a step backwards. His smile faltered. “Did I hurt you? I did not know, Archangel. I thought…I…”
“You!”
“I am sorry.” Furcas paled under Paimon’s gaze. He held his sides and backed away. “I am sorry. Please.”