Chapter one

Belial was the first to revolt against God and one of the first to fall, Satan following after him despite theory.

There was silence in his death and yet noise filled calamity. The struggle of one's heartbeat. The gasping of one's breath. Golden ichor bubbled forth to his lips as his eyes numbly viewed the mist covered land around him. His knives lay in his fingers, now without purpose. Blood stung his eyes and leaked from under the crown of twisted thorns upon his brow. In his ears rang the voice of God  and his skin was burned from fire. His chest was crushed in, the bones struggling to reset. He was rolled by strong hands on his shoulders. 

"Tis another angel, my lord!" The voice cut into his head and he groaned. Why must they speak so loud?

"Is it alive?" A quieter voice murmured.  

"Yes sir." A hand cradled his cheek, raising his head from the blood soaked earth. He groaned as the muscles of his chest pulled and shifted.

"What happened?" The loud one said.

"He was cast from heaven, along with his soldiers." The voice was soft and sweet. So soft is his skin.

"I must find... Belial...." He forced out, clenching the man's arm and lifting himself in his need. 

"I am here, young one." The being murmured with that quiet voice.

"You are Belial?" 

"I am. I was called to bring you home, my lord." Belial lifted him from the bloody earth in a tangle of limbs, his legs over his arm and holding his body close. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” He spoke with the voice like God but kind and sweetly rather than one of anger or fury. He rested in Belial's arms like a child, holding him about the neck. He lost himself in the thought of angels, the thought of glittering spirits and crowns of thorns.

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"Rouse yourself, my Lord. We have arrived." The world Belial showed him was once beautiful. Perhaps it was still. The palace's walls were that of black obsidian, the windows of glittering glass. The floors were tilted, the stairs twisted, the floors were walls and the ceilings, floors. Rooms were upside down and backwards and mirrors. Endless candles burned bright in glittering holders of polished stone. This world was his and his alone he decided. He wished to stay in this place of beauty and darkness. Then there was the throne room. He stood in the center of the room, gazing at the throne itself. It was unremarkable elsewhere: Simple walnut and black velvet cushions. But it was the power that radiated from it, the intense feeling of spite and pain. As he looked upon it, something shifted in his chest. Something like pride. Was this pride? He touched his chest as if he could his heart move with this new emotion. 

"Tis yours, little prince." Belial ushered him forwards towards it. The boy stumbled slightly, looking back in shock.

"It's mine?" his voice shook a little.

"Don't you wish to get back at those who hurt you? They placed that crown upon you. They sliced your brow, they spit upon you and they hit you." Belial led him up the dais, holding both his arms at the elbows and pulling him up. 

"I thought I was their brother!" He cried out, tears streaking down his cheeks.

"You are our brother. Our friend. Our lord." Belial went down on one knee, his head bowed, as the boy sat gingerly in the throne. He rested his hands upon the arms of the chair and smiled. He stretched his wings and Belial rose as well as another. They stripped his wings of feathers until they were naught but the wings like a bat. 

"Rise. Let all know I am Satan, now and always. We shall declare war on that world above both heaven and earth. We shall make them pay for the pain they gave us!"  He cried, rising with his fist upraised. His new people roared with him.

"We have a leader, now and always." Belial whispered to himself. 

Author's Note

Belial (or Beliar) is a term occurring in the Hebrew Bible which later became personified as the devil in Jewish and Christian texts. Means "worthless" in Hebrew. In the Old Testament this term is used to refer to various wicked people. In the New Testament, Paul uses it as a name for Satan. In later Christian tradition Belial became an evil angel associated with lawlessness and lust. Belial is listed as the sixty-eighth spirit of The Lesser Key of Solomon. He is a King of Hell with 80 legions of demons, and 50 legions of spirits, under his command. He was created as the first, after Lucifer.