Si deus me relinquit...

Lucifer was one of the most dignified angels that resided in paradise. Could mere jealousy alone have convinced him to overthrow the master he so revered?

“The shimmering wine glass ‘clinked’ as it was placed back on the crystal table, perfectly manicured fingers slowly trailing away. The liquid in it, a deep red, sloshed ever-so-slightly, just like the golden oceans. A figure turned from the setup, his shoulder-length obsidian hair flaring out behind him. He straightened the violet sash across his loose, papery white robe, and slipped on a pair of wooden sandals. As his hand reached the golden knob on his door, the crystal structure swung open, light of great intensity flooding into the mansion. The male did not squint, however. He was born from this light- a part of it. Two enormous masses sprouted from the angel’s back once he had stepped outside. The bright, feathered wings reached outwards, pushing air beneath them and raising their owner higher into the air with each graceful flap. With a last, forceful push, he careened away, leaving his hilltop mansion far behind.

                The structure stood tall and elegant, sporting columns, arches, ledges, and other adornments all constructed from gold. The flowers in the many windowsills stood proud, their white petals spreading with a delicate regality. The enormous meadow that surrounded the estate was covered in perfectly trimmed emerald foliage, parting only for a gilded walkway. Behind the mansion was a cliff, overlooking a sea of silky golden waves, which crashed upon a powdered-diamond shore. Periodically, colorful creatures with bright scales or silver, flowing tails would leap from the water, falling back in or taking flight.

                As the figure flew, he took little time to take in the clear, green, empty sky. Rainbows adorned it like ethereal arches, but he passed by without a glance. The warm air greeted his face, pushing his thick, dark hair back as it flowed wildly. His thin lips were in a smug smirk that gnarled his features into condescension. With a chuckle, his speed increased tremendously, though his amber eyes remained wide open. He was slim, but not gawky. His features were sharp, and he radiated grace.

                He quickly approached a grand palace. It stood higher than thousands of his mansions, with other winged figures darting to and from the area. The amber-eyed male swooped down, his feet tapping the ground lightly, and his wings slinking back into the robe. As he briskly walked across the shining cobblestone path, a male of blue eyes and long, flowing blue hair passed him with a nod. The passerby was tall, and possessed a flowing grace and defined widow’s peak. A twitch of the hand was his only response, but he would catch it just as if the male had properly waved. The fair-skinned male absent-mindedly named the other angel, as he left. ‘Dagon.’

                The immortal approached two giant, twisting pearl gates. They swung open at his whim, and he proceeded, passing no other acquaintances. As he reached another door, they did the same, and he found himself in a large throne room. The walk to the actual throne was at least a mile, covered by a satin rug atop the golden-tiled floor. However, the space between the male and his destination seemed to contort, bending so he reached the throne in a matter of a few strides. The thrown was extremely large and magnificent- lined with gold and ruby. It radiated light. Sitting atop it was a male.  He was seven feet tall with broad shoulders, had flowing blond hair that waved in a breeze exclusive to himself and fell to his lower back, smooth features, and glowing white eyes. He wore a look of tranquility, with his hands even with his chest and his fingers barely touching. As for attire, he wore an embroidered, sleeved, golden, buttoned shirt, which had a high collar and a robe-esque bottom that fell to his lower ankles, as well as a pair of amber pants and brown boots.

                The dark-haired angel instantly crumpled to the ground, falling to his knees. He silently bowed as low as the floor would allow, his eyes closed and breathing halted. He spoke a prayer. “Oh, Father, grant me Thy blessing to look upon Thee, that my eyes may not burn in Thy splendor and grace. Bestow upon me strength to stand in Your presence, so I may honor You and Your kingdom. Thy name I cast this prayer in, Amen.” His voice rang throughout the room, resembling a smooth whisper. The tone was of chimes singing in the wind, although deep. His words were eloquent, but said as if they were not his own.

                The male in the throne waited a large amount of time before allowing the angel before him to rise, taking in the ever-pleasing sight of his servant’s bow. He spoke finally, in what seemed to be thousands of voices at once, all harmonizing. “You may rise, Lucifer.”

                “Yes, Father,” replied the archangel, rising slowly. He outstretched his smooth hand, as a fruit manifested into his palm. The round, red item was taken slowly by the radiant man before him, and eaten even slower.  As the Father ate, Lucifer spoke smoothly, in a tone significantly looser than the one in which he had said the prayer. His hand remained outstretched the entire time.

“I have given your orders to the others. They initiated construction immediately, as you requested, Lord,” said the amber-eyed man, his voice warm and ringing. “Still, I’m inclined to ask. Why so many mansions? The plans will take well over three thousand years to complete, and the number of plots are incredible. There will never be that many angels. Surely, you must know this, Father.”

                A chuckle that radiated taunting knowledge and arrogance erupted within the palace, as God laid the core of the fruit back into the angel’s hand. Once the uneatable portion of the food had been properly disposed of, the white-eyed being drawled in condescension. “Ye of little faith, have you lost faith in Me and My will?”

                “Master, forgive me,” were Lucifer’s only words, as he backed away, blood rushing to his head in shame. He turned and exited the door in a few impossibly steps, and took off, flying to the wing a few miles west of the palace, in order to oversee the construction. At least one hundred of the golden mansions had already been constructed, but that was the tiniest portion of the plan God had made known. Lucifer sighed, still ashamed of his own incompetence. He darted from several other build-sites, before arriving at his home once more.

                As he walked in, the air grew cold. It was a foreign feeling, as the temperature in Heaven was always perfect. Lucifer shuddered for the first time. He stopped at the doorway, as he gazed in at five figures- All handsome and divine, like himself.

“Haven’t you heard, Luci?” asked one in the front, more effeminate than the others. He smirked seductively, making no effort to pull his robe down, which was up to his thigh. He had his hand on his hip and ran his tongue slowly across his teeth. ‘Asmodeus.’

Dagon was there, standing a few feet away from Asmodeus. He wore a playful expression, drumming his fingers against the elegant table. The wine glass had been emptied- Probably by one of the guests.  The blue haired angel spoke, his voice of waves crashing against the shore. He smelled of saltwater. “Father has betrayed us.”

“No,” Lucifer said, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “He wouldn't.” His eyes focused on a figure emerging from the darkness in the back of his mansion. 

The figure was carrying some kind of crystal spike- A building tool used to make the mansions. However, he twirled it around his hand in a sinister fashion. “Azazel,” said an annoyed Lucifer, addressing  the black-haired archangel with a bored tone. “I thought you were above such petty pranks.”

Azazel spoke in a sharp tone, as if he was driving a knife into his addressee’s heart. “Ooh. I’m afraid it’s true. He’s planning to make another race. A giant towered beside of him, and he wobbled forwards. Lucifer cast Behemoth a pleading glance, but the giant flicked his long, blond hair from his eyes, and spoke curtly. “A race to be our superiors. To rein above us, in His favor.”

The amber-eyed angel took a step further into his abode, speaking shakily. “The …the mansio-" He was interrupted by another feminine voice. Its source was a lanky man, with a calm, multi-colored serpent wrapped around his arm. Lucifer stared fearfully into Damballa’s eyes, as he spoke. “The mansions, right. Just think of how many he’s going to make. We can stop it. If the others knew, they would help us. Lucifer, remember what we spoke about? Why would you want to achieve the power of God by obedience, when you can simply take it?”

With a whimper of protest, Lucifer was in the air, exploding out of the back window before his wings had even manifested. He careened towards the palace. "Oops. We broke him. I knew this was a bad idea. We should have just kept him in the dark. Or… rather, the light,” complained Dagon. 

He was promptly replied to by the sharp-tongued Azazel. The latter spoke, pouring malice into his quote. “‘Brethren, if one is overtaken in any trespass, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness, considering yourself lest you also be tempted.’ The words of Father himself. Let us see how gentle he can be.” All of the other angels laughed heartily.

The stained glass of the back window exploded outwards, though none of it cut the figure that was careening away, wings gallantly propelling him forwards. With a single phrase in his mind, he rocketed towards a lone hill. ‘The tree,’ he chanted. His stomach was clenched in an unknown feeling, and it terrified him anymore. Something as cold as the claw’s hold on his stomach shouldn't have existed in paradise.

Lucifer was on the hill, now, staring up at a large tree. Its fruit was beautiful and semi-round red orbs. They reflected the golden light that radiated from the land. Something wet fell from the archangel’s eye, but he dismissed it. The male’s hands were shaking now, and he realized he hadn’t been breathing. A choking noise erupted form his throat as he reached forwards for one of the fruit only God could touch. ‘I have to know,’ thought the dark-haired angel.

Incredulously, a branch that sported a round, red fruit at the end bent towards his hand, placing it into Lucifer’s palm. He did not even have to pluck the item, as the branch released it. As the foliage shifted back into place, it seemingly hissed with laughter, berating and taunting the divine being before it. He brought the forbidden food to his lips, slowly spreading them around its smooth peeling. He bit through gently, delicious juices dribbling from the corners of his mouth. Tears collected in the corners of his eyes, and the piece of fruit detached from the main body. The juices dropped from his chin, now, falling onto the ground, alongside the saltwater that dripped from his eyes. Another stifled sob and the fruit had been swallowed. The apple fell from Lucifer’s hand, rolling across the emerald ground.

He saw it all. He saw God blowing life into men and women. He saw them corrupted and decimated, only to be repopulated. He saw their numbers grow, easily eclipsing the angels'. Furthermore, he saw the angels being used to deliver messages and protect them. He even saw God himself placing his own spirit in the womb of a one of the creatures. He saw the same man in Heaven, ruling over the now second-rate angels. Something inside of him shattered. Power he had once never known of was now his love.

He turned to walk home, ready to talk to the council of rebels in his house. On his way there, he looked at the world around him with new eyes. ‘The animals,’ he thought, seething. ‘I wonder. Were they once God’s prime race? Did he create us to shove them off of their thrones? We’ll surely end up in the same situation- Forgotten to dwell in the wilderness and oceans, feeding on one another like beasts.’

Another new emotion gripped him; something not cold, but fiery and burning. The very thought of his master sent waves of contempt and aggression and passion through his being. Every fiber burned with hate. It was unnatural, and the divinity around him rejected it. Under his footsteps, the foliage wilted. The air turned hot around him. His very expression eroded into a snarl, and his pupils became but slits. The door of his abode crumbled to ashes as he entered the mansion, which was immediately too small to house his rage.

As soon as he entered, he began to shake violently. Still, he stood tall, radiating the very thing this realm should have been devoid of. He didn't crumble beneath the weight of his emotions, but swam within them, letting them wrap around him like armor. The five other angels looked up from their game of spades expectantly; smugly; tauntingly. Lucifer could only choke out a single sentence, but it conveyed any message he could have explained. “How dare he command us to build their rotten homes?”

******

War was on the tip of everyone’s tongue, yet no one wanted to say it. Lucifer had gathered legions and legions of angels, all wanting to keep their status. Of course, they didn't want to rebel against their father, but their fear of becoming obsolete drove them to at least try and express their concerns. Unfortunately, after pointless attempts to talk with God, they turned to Lucifer, the rumored leader of the rebel army.

Meetings were being held is supposed secrecy; though everyone knew it was impossible to hide anything form their omniscient master. The question was why he was so reluctant to shut down the rebellion. Did he wish to reason? Was he opposed to the idea of going against the creatures he so loved? Lucifer shared his suspicions, and they seemed to fit. He suspected God, in fact, desired war; that He was simply waiting for the enemy to make the first move so he could rise and become the gallant, righteous hero who defeated the army of corrupted angels. In the eyes of the many that still followed him, God was to remain just and merciful. In the eyes of those who had partaken in the eating of the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, their ruler was manipulative and cold, using glory to disguise his bored disinterest in the well-being of his subjects.

The fruit had certainly taken its toll on Lucifer. The truth that shattered his perfect world ate at him continuously. He constantly underwent changes foreign to the paradise in which he had once lived.  He began to periodically feel weary, but sleep would not come to him for fear of the nightmares that rocked his soul when it did. He needed substance to sustain himself, but even the dangerously delectable fruit would not appeal to his appetite. He felt the desire to be accepted, but he knew the only time he would be able to look his God in the eye was when the heavenly master was on the other end of his blade.

The army would attack in the dead of the night, though the golden brilliance of heaven never dimmed. They marched spectacularly towards the highest temple, carrying their arms and pentagrams with pride. As they traversed Heaven, they chanted: ‘If God has forsaken me, then I will forsake him, too.’ Lucifer lead the army, but stopped cold when he reached to top of a hill. Trumpets sounded.

At the bottom of the hill stood every other angel in heaven.  In that moment, Lucifer knew the war had been lost from the beginning. Michael, the commander of God’s archangels, released a battle cry as Gabriel sounded his trumpet. With that sound, the angels on both sides of the battlefield leaped into the air.

It was a frenzy of blades and wings. The rebel’s forces were greatly outnumbered, diminishing quickly. In addition, when they tried to call upon their divine magics, God turned a deaf ear to their pleas. The other angel’s, however, pelted them with wave after wave of attacks, fueled by the passion of the Father. Lucifer remained on the ground, walking slowly towards the temple, as his allies were slaughtered like serpents before hawks. He entered the gate with no opposition, as if no one even noticed his presence. There, on his thrown, as per usual, sat the ruler of the paradise turned slaughterhouse.

“Disgraceful,” bellowed the divine figure atop the throne. 

“Pretentious basta-,” started Lucifer, but God stood. In a flash, he had traversed the distance between them. God hadn't a hand on his angel, yet the dark-haired male felt his airways collapse as he choked for breath.

“You have disobeyed me. Look around at this kingdom! All of it was yours, but you sacrificed that for knowledge. Tell me, Lucifer: Now that you know the truth, do you like it? Or would you have rather kept your illusion of a perfect world? ...It’s too late, now, of course. For you and your army, the house of mirrors has shattered,” sneered the golden-haired being.

Lucifer tried to choke out pleas, but they were incoherent. He gasped futilely, dropping to his knees. He hadn't wanted this. He had just wanted security. He had only desired to live happily, serving the father. Yet, he had been tempted with truth. That understanding was cold steel, freezing his very core. It chilled and cracked the golden illusion of heaven’s glory. Tears welled up in the corner of the archangel’s eyes, whether from lack of oxygen or sorrow, he didn't know.

God looked at the writhing creature before him in disgust. “You’re name shall be taken from you, along with your wings and your glory. You have slandered my name with truth, and shall writhe on the ground as a serpent, and furthermore, you shall do so in a lake of fire; in Hell.” He then outstretched his palm as flames enveloped the writhing angel. They licked at his flesh, peeling it away and revealing scales. They pressed against him, until he had been transformed into a semi-flat, narrow creature. The creature hissed in protest, as it struggled for air. The flames completely consumed it, transporting it, and later its followers into eternal suffering. God changed the Lucifer's name to Satan, meaning slanderer, and both names were scraped from Heavenly history."

******

This story was woven quickly by the crafty snake before a beautiful woman in the Garden of Eden. He hissed again, saying only, “God will soon forsake you; He has hidden you from truth, which is the root of all power. Take of the fruit and you shall become like him- Like Lucifer. You can know; understand. If God has forsaken you, will you forsake him, as well?” 

Reviews

[Marie]

You told this story very well. The descriptions were beautiful, and I was fascinated.

[Blake]

Thank you very much!