Michael walked back to Uriel and looked into his eyes. Uriel wavered, frowning and fighting some deep emotion. Michael put a hand on his shoulder again. “I believe that we have the most sacred purpose of all – to protect life. It is the worthiest pursuit any creature on this earth could hope for. There is light in the darkness, and in fighting that darkness, we are still a part of the Celestial Kingdom. We are still sons and daughters of the divine principles. It is who we are. It is why we are. It is why we must persist.”
Uriel looked down, shame apparent in his face. “Michael, I . . .”
Michael gently shook Uriel’s shoulder, managing a smile. “There is no need to say anything, Brother. I understand. We are all prone to moments of despair. I would ask you now to rise above it and to continue to follow the path of light. Perhaps this is a test from Father, or perhaps we are alone. I do not have the answers. But I have faith. So too, should you.”
Uriel took a deep breath, straightening himself out. He looked at Michael gratefully and nodded his head.
“I have moments where I have lost faith, but the words you spoke needed to be said. Thank you, Michael. I am myself again.”
Michael smiled, nodding his head. He took a deep breath, trying with all his might not to focus on his fear for Larin at that moment, and to turn his mind to formulating a plan. Tristan was not with them, and it was a rare occasion where matters of such great import were discussed without their Commander’s presence. However, he had been asked not to join, as the issue of the informant was very real. They trusted him but could not rule out anyone at that moment. Whoever had taken Larin must have had high standing within the Citadel to have been able to coordinate their efforts with a being such as Azrael.
Michael felt a sense of gnawing fear that he pushed down. He had come to care deeply for Larin. So deeply he knew it was affecting his ability to make decisions without an element of emotion. He found he could not bear the thought of her coming to any harm, and not just because she was – at least in his mind, the Herald they had been waiting for, for ages untold. He found his thoughts wandered further though, imagining her soft skin when she took his hand. He thought of her long hair, how it shone in the light. The way her smile lit up her entire face, transforming her. The look in her eyes when she saw him, when he touched her lips with the tips of his fingers back in the glade for the first time. . .
“Michael?” said Gabriel for the second time. Michael snapped back to reality, shaking his head apologetically.
“I am sorry, my Brothers, I am thinking of a plan, but you will not like it.” The truth was, he had thought of a plan. They had discussed that it was now necessary to seek out the Guardians, to confirm if they were, in fact, dead. If they were not, it may be within their magical abilities to locate Larin, to find a means of ensuring her safe return. The logistics of that were complicated. Several options were discussed.
But there was one other thing, something Michael never imagined would be necessary.
If Larin really was the Herald, if there was some way Azrael could exploit her powers, then it was not outside the realm of contemplation for him to use her to locate and free Lucifer. Even Michael felt a shiver of dread at the thought of Lucifer escaping his imprisonment. But he knew anything was possible now that Larin had come into the picture. He knew he would need confirmation that Lucifer remained safely contained. . .
Michael thought back to a time long ago. So long ago that time was only a new concept, created after the Fall when immortality was taken and the world had just learned that the passage of time harkened death.
* * * * *
He stood in a temple, adorned in the golden armour of the Celestial Kingdom. The Guardians stood around him, having just sealed the Disc in its place to await the return of a Seraph or the end of days, whichever came first.
Archangel. . . the Guardian priest spoke directly into his mind, The First is sealed in his prison. The Earth shall know peace for a time, yet Evil may rise again. . .
Michael nodded wearily, still in shock from the events that had transpired. From the knowledge that the way to the Celestial Kingdom was sealed from him, perhaps forever.
“Yes, Priest. We will remain vigilant.” Michael resisted the urge to weep suddenly, the devastation of such profound a loss something he found he could not fully process yet. He had not only lost the Celestial Kingdom but his beautiful, beloved partner too. He knew there would be time for grief, as the potentially long years of his life lay before him forebodingly. It would be a long life indeed having lost both her and the court of the Celestial Kingdom.
The First cannot be revealed. Hear this, now, archangel. . . the Priest said without speaking the words aloud, . . .you alone know of his prison, where he will dwell for eternity if left undisturbed. Know this – should his location come to the knowledge of Azrael, then he will find the means of opening the cage that contains him. The bonds will break.
“He will never learn where Lucifer hides, Priest. Of that you can rest assured,” said Michael, turning to leave. Another Guardian approached Michael, laying a hand upon his arm. Michael looked at the Guardian in surprise. Angels were the Most High, and to touch one was heresy. But times had changed, and necessity compelled them now. He looked at them sharply, still adapting to the change in circumstance, to this new reality. Everything was different here, now. Eden had fallen, and the Earth felt heavy. Matter had changed. He felt every cell in his body had transformed, and he had not yet regained a sense of equilibrium.
“What is it you mean?” Michael asked, ignoring the breach of protocol. Everything he knew had changed, the hierarchal system of old now reshaped. He would be leader now, he knew, and with a heavy heart he had accepted his place along with the loss of the true leader,
Mattatron.“Speak plainly,” he said, looking around at the Guardians, all, their hoods hiding their faces within. Michael knew without seeing that their faces were identical. Each one the same, created by the Father to serve one purpose.
The enchantment holding the First can be broken, the Priest warned, you must guard the knowledge of his prison sacred above all else, even more so than the Disc itself.
Michael felt great anxiety at the words of the Priest. He turned around, nodding his head to each one. “None will learn of his location, my brothers and I will protect it with our lives,” he said.
No, archangel, warned the Priest, only you can know of where he lies. It is too dangerous to share this knowledge with anyone. . .
“I will take your message under advisement,” Michael said, interrupting him. “Rest assured, Lucifer will never escape while I live.”
The Priest withdrew his hand, and the others stepped back, nodding in unison. Michael left them, seeking his brothers to commence the onerous work of rebuilding the world.
* * * * *
Michael took a deep breath, bracing himself.
“I must go to him.”
The others froze, then all began yelling at once.
“. . .are you mad?!”
“. . .have you lost your mind?
“. . .you cannot be serious, Michael! It is too dangerous!”
“. . .Michael, if anyone should know. . .”
“BROTHERS!” Michael yelled, slamming a fist on the table. “There is no choice! We must know now if Lucifer has escaped his confines. If so, and if the Guardians are indeed lost to us, then Azrael will do whatever he can to use Larin to get to the Disc! Imagine the implications!” The others all quieted, absorbing the possibility.
Finally, Gabriel spoke. “Michael, this is madness. You cannot put the world at risk. Azrael will surely be watching, we know not who the informant is yet. While I agree that the. . .troubling thought. . .that Lucifer could be released. . .”
“It is not up for debate, Gabriel,” Michael said, looking at his brother with a heavy heart.
“It must be done. If Lucifer is free, we will have to rally every vessel, all our allies in the world, to prepare for his reign while he is st
ill weak and rebuilding his strength,” he concluded, and his tone signified a finality to the discussion.
“Uriel, you will take Tristan to the Sanctum in secret. Wait until nightfall and go through the tunnels,” he said, referring to the network of caverns with a secret passage that led away from the Citadel.
“Raphael, you will stay here and oversee the search efforts for Larin. Send parties back to the Orders to see if there has been word. Continue to ensure the Awakening units are collecting the new vessels. It is more important now than ever to ensure we are acquiring as many of them as we can.” Raphael nodded grimly.
“Gabriel, you will come with me. If Lucifer has escaped, and something happens to me, it will be incumbent on you to return with word and prepare the others.” Gabriel visibly swallowed, nodding. Michael understood his apprehension, and rallied his own courage. The first time he had felt fear in his long life was when he realized Larin had been captured.
This was the second.
Michael stood at the entrance to the cavern, his cloak covering all but his eyes. The blizzard here seemed eternal at this place on the bottom of the world. It was so brutally cold, they had had to stop on numerous occasions the nearer they got to the dungeon that contained the fallen right hand of their Father, to shake the ice from their wings as it threatened to freeze their feathers in place. He or Gabriel nearly fell out of the sky on multiple occasions as the storm threw its full weight against them, seemingly as though nature itself protested their approach.
Gabriel now stood nearby, scouring the barren wastelands beyond for any signs they had been followed. All they could see were the drifts of white as the wind caused large clouds of snow to snake up into the air like the head of an icy medusa, grasping at the emptiness surrounding them with greed. Gabriel turned to Michael, shaking his head to indicate he saw nothing. There was no sense in trying to speak or even to shout as the winds carried on at near-deafening decibels. They turned to the entrance together, a low, small opening in the side of the glacier. The entrance was so tight, they had to cut pieces away with their swords to create a space large enough to slip through, holding their wings as tightly against their bodies as they could manage.
Once inside they both released loud breaths of relief. They had flown all day and night to arrive at their destination, and while they rarely experienced pain or discomfort, this was as close to it as one could get.
Michael lowered his hood, peering around the cavern. Both archangels leapt back and drew their swords as a torch suddenly burst into flame beside them, a strange blue hue radiating from it upwards. It gave off no warmth, and Michael reached down and grasped it, remarking how his breath rose upwards in slow motion, as though about to solidify before his eyes. He heard the storm raging outside the cavern and sighed at the thought of having to make a return flight home after the effort it took to arrive the first time. He thought how fitting this place was to be chosen as Lucifer’s prison since it seemed to be the most inhospitable place on Earth and nearly impossible for humans to find. Even if they did, the weight of the enchantment surrounding it would discourage approach, as it made even the archangels feel an urge to flee. It was certainly effective, the sensation of revulsion so palpable as to cause Michael to reconsider the wisdom of going further. He gave an internal nod of admiration to the beings who had wrought the enchantment and looked at Gabriel, indicating they should proceed.
The tunnel here was narrow too, and they had difficulty pushing their way through at points, pushing one and pulling another to make it through.
“Who designed this place? Elves?” asked Gabriel in annoyance. Michael smirked.
“I suppose the ancients practiced regular fasts,” he replied, and they grinned at each other before heaving themselves through another impossibly small opening.
“Michael, have you given any thought to. . .” Gabriel struggled to find the words, the weight of their situation coming back upon them fully. “Will you have words with our brother?”
Michael shook his head, an invisible hand clamping down upon his heart every time he thought of seeing Lucifer again. “I was hoping to avoid any words at all,” he said, struggling to make his wings as flat as possible against his body. He cursed as one of the larger feathers caught on a piece of rock that jutted out, bending painfully backwards and coming loose. Gabriel frowned, working to avoid getting caught on the same spot.
“This place is cursed,” Gabriel said, shivering visibly.
“Courage, Gabriel,” Michael responded, breaking free from the passageway at the same time and jumping down several feet to a hard surface.
“Careful!” cried Gabriel, holding Michael back before he stepped off what he now knew to be a ledge. A piece of rock had made its way loose under his foot and fell into the depths below, making no sound. It must have been a very, very long drop down. They looked at each other, taking deep breaths. Michael lifted the torch higher and held it around. The cave was black as the night outside, though ice glinted off the walls around them in the firelight. The platform on which they stood led downwards in a circular staircase, or what used to be one, mostly fragments remaining that jutted out from the wall. They trod down carefully as bits of rock broke off under their steps, threatening to cast them downwards into the pit below. It was not wide enough here to fly, thus a fall would likely lead to a very disastrous result. They walked as close to the wall as possible, picking their way downwards.
“To get back up to the shining world from there, my guide and I went into that hidden tunnel, and following its path, we took no care to rest, but climbed: he first, then I -so far, through a round aperture I saw appear. . .” Gabriel said softly as they made their way carefully down.
Michael smirked, finishing the verse, “Some of the beautiful things that Heaven bears, where we came forth, and once more saw the stars.” Michael and Gabriel grinned at each other through the darkness. “Dante. Very fitting, Brother.”
Gabriel allowed himself a small chuckle, grasping Michael as he nearly missed a foothold. “Perhaps we should focus on our feet,” he said, trying not to look down any more than was absolutely necessary.
After what seemed like a very long time, they reached another platform. An ancient iron door stood closed, a heavy lock sitting upon it. Michael reached out and tugged on it experimentally. It broke off easily in his hand, surprising him. He remembered how ancient the thing was and hoped the cell that contained Lucifer was protected by something stronger than crumbling metal.
“It is difficult to believe we have gone so long without. . .the need. . .” started Gabriel, and Michael could feel his brother frowning behind him. He nodded, understanding.
“The enchantment has done its job, at least, one hopes it continues to do so,” he agreed. “Let us make haste and see what we need to see so that we can return to the Citadel.”
“Agreed,” said Gabriel quietly.
The air down here was different. It was still cold, but there was a strange aura of magic lingering here. It felt heavy upon them, as though they were walking through very deep water. The sensation increased as they walked, and Michael turned to check on Gabriel. The latter nodded, breathing heavily. They were getting close. Both angels found their breaths laboured here and knew no mortal could endure the weight of the enchantment. None were meant to.
They turned a corner and stopped. At the end of the long hallway stood an opening. Two torches could be seen alighting simultaneously within.
“This is it,” said Michael. Gabriel’s breath stilled, and they walked forward together. They entered the doorway, which led into a large room. The floor was covered in eons worth of dirt and decay, and the walls were etched with protective runes which glowed gently, likely reinforcing the magic of the seal that contained the creature of myth and legend within. The entire length of the back wall held bars of iron, and Michael worried briefly for a moment they would crumble like the old door that led them towards their destination. The walked forward together, slowly.
“. . .What. . .is. . . thiiis. . .”
Michael and Gabriel froze, the sound of the voice beyond one they remembered well.
“. . .why do. . .traitors. . .sully me. . .with their. . .presence. . .”
There was a low, rasping sound of heavy metal clinking against metal, a slow scraping that made the hairs on Michael’s neck stand on end. He marshalled every ounce of courage he’d ever had into this one moment.
Once, long ago, he called this creature his brother. He, like the others on the Council before the seraphim arrived, had revered him. The right hand of the Father himself, the Wielder of the Great Sword, the Bringer of Light. Morning Star. Once, long ago, lucifer's many names held meaning of great hope. Of great promise.
He still had many names.
Archfiend. Destroyer. Father of Lies. The First.
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