KING OF ANYTHING [lucifer]

[ZERACHIEL]

NAVESINK, NEW JERSEY

The need for sleep was a human necessity Zerachiel had no desire to be subjected to. The angel felt vulnerable while asleep, however she could not deny the rest her vessel adamantly yearned for every so often. Not to mention hunting during such a weary state of mind unquestionably affected her actions—for the worse no less. Luckily, she had not yet been forced to adhere to the human requirement of seven-to-eight hours a night; Zerachiel could easily get by on less than eight hours a week.

She settled beneath the coverlets, her eyelids closing without protest as her head hit the pillow. Zerachiel had not practiced the act of sleep for long. Though, she already noticed that she was effortlessly falling into a pattern and that she preferred to lie-down during the day instead of the night—which pleasantly benefited her in the end. Hopefully, sleep would come easier this afternoon than it previously had, so the angel could awake sooner rather than later. There was research waiting to be done and she hated to wander away from her duties even if it may be for one-to-three hours at most.

When she reopened her eyes Zerachiel stared at her surroundings in momentary shock and then quickly regained her composure as she realized that she was—in fact—still asleep. Even now she found dreams to be a peculiar phenomenon. She knew humans experienced them on a daily basis and angels could walk within them, but she had never created her own dreams before. Usually her dreams held no significance and made little sense. This particular dream was unquestionably a lot more vivid than her last—different.

She now sat at a table in front of what appeared to be a café. Other tables surrounded her, all unoccupied. It appeared as if she was the only one present for the sidewalks, streets, and the shops were completely void of life.

[LUCIFER]

When I look at you, I see the weak

[/color]

This was going to be different. Very different. While this was a dream, there had been some proper changes to it. The wind chimes outside of the diner's entrance clanged softly against one another. Outside of the pane of glass, next to where the angel Zerachiel was sitting , big puffy snow flakes had started to fall. It was very quiet in the diner. It really did seem that nobody else was there for the longest time.

And then the shuffling of swing doors rocking back and forth broke the silence. A petite red haired woman walked out and pulled out a writing pad to use. She wandered over to the angel and smiled, almost in a condescending way. She chewed on her gum, loudly, smacking it a few times on purpose as she blew a very large bubble before popping it. She looked down and clicked her pen before her eyes went back to Zerachiel.
"There's a special on the menu that you," her eyes melded into a silky black color, "really have to try, sweetheart," the demon said with a wicked smile.

The doors swung again and a man appeared from the kitchen. The waitress turned around away from Zerachiel and smiled at him before walking a few paces away before she vanished into the back room. A gurgling scream could be heard while she took over the 'chef's role for dinner.

Lucifer stood to the side of Zerachiel's table, drying his hands on a towel. The contents could have been marinara sauce, but it was something about the liquid's consistency that screamed 'blood'. He moved his arm, gesturing to the chair opposite of Zerachiel.
"May I?" the devil asked, but he didn't wait for an answer. He promptly sat down in front of her.

He pointed at the blonde and gave a small smile. Lucifer gave a soft chuckle, as if she was the butt of a joke that she didn't know of. Which, in some ways, she was. The fact that she needed to dream now...well, that was a laugh for him.
"You," he said, wagging his index finger up and down, as if scolding her, "...You are a hard one to find. he finished.

Lucifer leaned back a little and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pockets. He didn't wait to see if she would interject to him smoking and lit up. He had been looking for her, well, not exactly her, but somebody who was close to Michael. She, happened to be a good lead. Hopefully this would work out. He wasn't so sure at the moment, but there was always hope. He had been trying to find a way to track down Michael. Seeing as he was still stuck in Hell, for the time being, this was one of the ways he could talk to others.

I'm a wolf among lost sheep

[/right]

[ZERACHIEL]

The tranquility of the dream vanished much to Zerachiel’s chagrin.

Snow began to fall from the once cloudless, vibrantly blue sky, collecting on the table’s surface. She watched the snowflakes drift downward as she extended a hand, allowing the perfectly shaped flakes to alight on the tender flesh of her palm. For the longest time she admired the sudden snowfall, merely studying the flurries, which now glimmered like miniature iridescent diamonds. The angel cherished each season and despite winter’s harsh weather, snow was beautiful, especially when freshly fallen.

Only the opening and closing of the diner doors managed to draw Zerachiel from her reverie. She gazed up at the unfamiliar woman, slightly taken aback by the pitiless black eyes staring back at her. The angel’s body tensed instinctively, prepared to defend herself if need be; even in the realm of dreams. However, the demon did not attack. A cruel smile lined the monster’s lips and Zerachiel scrutinized her unexpected visitor through narrowed eyes as she sauntered back into the seemingly empty café.

She wished to pursue the demon, unmask its true intentions, though remained seated, unable to move. Zerachiel stared through wide unblinking eyes at the man opposite her, his voice causing her blood to run cold within her veins. Unconsciously she reached for her switchblade and then her pistol, however her customary weapons were not with her; they would not be able to harm him anyway. Fear enveloped her and she strove to suppress the unwanted emotion, her knuckles white as her hands gripped the edge of the table.

Swallowing the mounting panic, she refused to look away—this was no ordinary dream. “Smoking is detrimental to your vessel’s health,” she replied evenly, repulsed by the pungent aroma of cigarette smoke; though it was obvious the physical condition of his vessel was not top priority and that repulsed her further.

[LUCIFER]

There is a war you can’t hide from

[/color]

He had expected her to react somewhat this way. She seemed young, for an angel anyway, and he suddenly felt very old. There were benefits to that though, considering that age did not have much negative stigma than what it did with humans. He looked over at the snow and smiled at it for a moment as he let her gather herself into a more calm and collected manner. He didn’t want to wait forever though. While he was in the dream he could help keep her from waking up, but, like all angels, he preferred to get to the point of the matter at hand. There were several of those that he wanted to discuss. She was going to be in a very deep and disturbing sleep.

As he waited he snapped his fingers. The demon waitress came back out from the kitchen. If the angel had expected human on the menu, sense the screaming from the kitchen had sounded as such, she would be wrong. The waitress came out with a black tray pressed flat against her palm. Various assorted items were on it. He smiled politely at the demon and looked back to Zerachiel while the waitress placed glasses of water on their table. Lucifer inhaled deeply as she spoke of his bad smoking habit. He chuckled, smoke puffing out of his nose as he laughed. The Devil shook his head.

"He requests it at times, and I won’t deny him that pleasure, ” he said as the waitress placed a plate down before him. The devil lightly tapped the end of his cigarette so that the ash landed in its proper tray. ”Besides…He and I both believe that he will not survive this…ordeal.” he said, waving the hand with his cigarette about lightly in a very human like gesture.

The waitress popped her gum again, as if asking Zerachiel if she wanted anything. The Devil was going to enjoy his breakfast, and it would be rude not to offer her something. While the demon tried to get Zerachiel’s attention, the devil busied himself with gathering his utensils and cutting himself a few bits of steak that rested in front of him.

”Do you know who I am?” he asked while cutting the t-bone, his eyes remained upon it for a while, but eventually he looked back up at her.

Nobody had seen him for quite some time. He knew that the vessel he used would work…once he got out of Hell that is. A little trip forward into the world’s timeline had given him that information, thus, it was how he appeared now. As he took a drink from the glass of water he watched her eyes. He noticed that her gaze seemed to hover over his vessel’s wounds. In this dream state that could be easily resolved. He moved his free hand over his face, the sores vanishing and color returned to his features. He looked much healthier in a matter of moments.

There was no reason for her to be too uncomfortable. He was not going to harm her. The demon wanted to, but they were sort of programmed that way. Even though the waitress did, she quietly stood there and waited on Zerachiel’s reply, popping her gum. Eventually the sound did get on his nerves. He turned his head slightly toward the demon and gave her a warning glance. The red haired woman stiffened and shut her mouth tightly.

”And why I am here…talking to you… he said as he turned his face back to her, his piercing blue eyes gazing at her own.

It rests within yourself

[/right]

[ZERACHIEL]

The angel arched in inquiring brow as she stared into the face of the man seated opposite her. She knew he was not a demon, unlike the server who incessantly popped her gum. Dispelling the smoke with a wave of her hand, Zerachiel forced her muscles to unwind and heartbeat into a steady rhythm. Human emotions proved to be rather frustrating, especially when they went against her nature. There were times she missed Heaven, though angels were meant to serve humanity and that was why she had chose to walk the earth during such a tense period in both the angelic, mortal, and demonic realms. She could not simply watch her brethren destroy their Father’s most beautiful creation, even if He was not present.

She examined the vessel and immediately felt a wave of sympathy. “No human deserves to be treated unfairly. Particularly, by an angel,” she responded. “Angels are meant to serve and protect God’s children—not harm them.” However, it seemed as the years passed by her kin eventually lost sight of their one true purpose; what God had asked of them so many millennia ago. Zerachiel refused to disobey His commands; she was created to do as He ordered and she would not rebel subsequent to eons upon eons of doing so. Angels tended to mistreat their vessels nowadays, which both saddened and angered her.

Without even acknowledging the demon, she answered coolly, “Nothing, thank you.” She would not trust either of them; in this day and age there were only a select few she could entrust with her life. Perhaps long ago she had trusted him, but if so, she could not recall a time or place. “Why could you not learn from your brother’s actions? Though, I suppose that is the difference between Michael and yourself, Lucifer.” Zerachiel still regarded Michael above any of her siblings, he may have wandered astray ever so slightly, but he was devoted to Him in the end; Michael always was.

“As for your sudden visit—prey tell, brother. I have all the time in the world.”

[LUCIFER]

See how I leave with every piece of you

[/color]

He cut his stake in reserved silence for a while. He could practically hear her vessel’s heart beating rapidly. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t accept the fact that he enjoyed her panic. He chewed thoughtfully on a bite of steak and peppered his scrambled eggs while she spoke. Swallowing, he raised his eyes back to her. Lucifer gave a small smile and pressed the blade into the meat once more, tearing the cooked tissue easily with a single swipe of the metal instrument. He lifted the knife after the cut and gestured with the tip of the steak knife as he spoke.

“Contrary to your belief, I am doing my best to keep this vessel healthy and content. While his appearance may be disturbing to you and others, but I am doing all that I can to keep him alive,” he said thoughtfully. Weather she believed him or not it was the truth. “You should know better than to accuse me of just letting my vessel waste away.”

A good vessel was hard to find. He popped another bite of steak into his mouth and chewed on it. He looked over to the demon and waited her to wander off to the back. Their informant had done his deed and torturing him would be only for the fun of it now. He lifted a hand and waved it at the demon, as if shooing a fly away. She gave another black eyed glare at Zerachiel before she wandered back to the kitchen. The sound of content whistling came from the kitchen as the doors shifted and wiggled before closing again. Somewhere a man was pleading and then another scream ripped through the café before an eerie and uneasy silence settled back over the scene.

“Learn?” he glared and pressed his palm firmly on the table as he looked Zerachiel square in the face, “You want me to learn the acts of betrayal? He without sin cast the first stone, Zerachiel. I may have disobeyed God, but I did not turn on our kin first before Michael shoved me aside.” he growled.

The expression that burned in his eyes was vicious. He clenched the handle of the steak knife tightly, wrapping his fingers around it and giving it a good squeeze. He paused, took a breath, and tried to calm himself. He lightly placed the knife down on the table and grabbed his glass of ice water. He took a few drinks and rested back in his seat for a moment, watching Zerachiel while he rested his palms on the table.

Don’t underestimate the things that I will do

[/right]

[ZERACHIEL]

Zerachiel shifted within the chair and folded her hands on the tabletop. “In that case I apologize,” she responded. Her eyes wandered over the vessel and she wondered what thoughts pervaded the human’s mind while occupied by the fallen angel; how had Lucifer coaxed the man into giving his consent? She knew her sibling was an extremely talented speaker. However, Zerachiel had a particularly difficult time believing any word that rolled off the Ruler of Hell’s tongue, no matter how sincere they may appear to be. She had learned her lesson long ago—when he fell. How could she trust anyone who rebelled against their Father so freely?

The angel leapt from her seat as a bloodcurdling scream emitted from the café. The chair toppled to the ground and Zerachiel resisted the urge to run into the diner. Facing Lucifer, she maintained her position despite the deep-seated impulse to flee. “Michael is committed to our Father. You were cast from Heaven due to your own selfish desires. Michael only did what He asked of him. You, above anyone else, should not be allowed to vilify Michael,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her once stoic demeanor rapidly melting as she gazed down at the Devil. “You betrayed Michael; Michael did not betray you.”

Her hands shook. Zerachiel had never felt such anger or hatred in neither Heaven or on earth in all her years. She never respected Lucifer, although she had never despised her brother; she could not hate any of her siblings. The alien sensation frightened her and she hoped God would forgive her. Inhaling a deep, soothing breath, Zerachiel divest herself of any resentment. “No matter, we are still kin . . . how could you deceive your siblings? Do you feel no remorse? I cannot comprehend your actions. I do not understand . . .” she faltered mid-sentence, unable to continue speaking.

[LUCIFER]

So...

[/color]

He didn’t flinch at the scream as he had been expecting something like that to happen. He did lift his gaze to her face as she jumped up so quickly. He eyed the fallen chair for a moment before resting back into his seat and picking up his fork once more. He scooped some of the scrambled eggs and took a few bites. He waited for her to settle back down while he kept his own emotions in check from what he had said earlier. He would appreciate his own efforts when she started to speak. His eyes slowly went back to her.

The most frightening thing about a storm, like a hurricane for example, is the calm before it. This was no different. He was surprisingly steady in his movements and actions. He didn’t yell, he didn’t glare, and he didn’t even make a move to lash out against the other angel. Lucifer just sat there, staring at his plate. He shifted in his seat, leaning forward and flicking a finger to put the angel’s chair back in place. Lucifer took another drink and went back to eating his breakfast while he mulled over his own thoughts. The tension in the air grew with each passing second, but he didn’t mind it. He let it hover over her head, let her ponder if she had indeed signed her own death sentence or was being forgiven.

“So, are those the tales that have been fed to you? he asked quietly, looking at her. He gestured for her to sit back down once she was ready sense her chair was back in place. The devil swallowed the latest bite of his mostly consumed breakfast. As if on cue the demon waitress wandered back out to refill his water and take his plate away. She left and returned once more with a large flask of bandy and a glass, poured him a drink, and disappeared into the background to mop up the bloody mess she had made.

He had seen this reaction too many times from his siblings. He pitied them. They were so close minded, so stagnant. Zerachiel was not open to the truth and would only say that he was lying. It took time for a soul to change and become more responsive to other ideas, perceptions, and thoughts. There were only two ways to get through to somebody like her, reason – which usually never worked, and force. But then…wouldn’t he be just as bad as his Father and Michael? That his way was the only way? Had the Devil become a zealot in his quest to create the angels to be the exact opposite? It was possible, but he would continue that, for the greater good.

“I expected as much…” he commented to break the tense silence between them. His tone held great disappointment, sadness, and maybe a fraction of pity in it. Lucifer took a drink of his brandy and licked the residue off of his lips.

With sin, I condemn you

[ZERACHIEL]

Tales?” Zerachiel repeated. “They are fact.” The angel reluctantly reseated herself, heaving a sigh of exasperation. She was growing frustrated and maintaining what was left of her composure proved to be a most difficult feat. “You have failed to answer my previous question—what brings you here, brother?” she asked, desperately wanting to know why he had chose to walk in her dreams. “You know my name, however do you know who I am?” He could have taken the time to visit another of her angelic brethren; perhaps she had been the easiest to get into contact with.

Even though her powers were rapidly diminishing, Zerachiel remained an archangel. She had numerous titles bestowed upon her: leader of the heavenly choir, angel of healing, angel of the sun, ruler over the earth, devoted assistant to Michael, prince of Heaven. The angel was old, extremely old, and old enough to know that Lucifer was not one to be trusted. “Do you ever regret your past actions?” she inquired, genuinely curious. Silence overcame them once more as Zerachiel waited patiently for a response. He had avoided her questions and she wanted answers. After all, he was the one who had intruded upon her privacy—not the other way around.

Not long ago she had been at Michael’s side and now she was in the company of Lucifer. Briefly, she thought about the outcome of their encounter. He was dangerous and one wrong move could cost her, her life; Hell would freeze over before she could hold her own against the Morning Star. She prayed she would live through this unexpected ordeal, preferably in one piece. Her green gaze swept over the seemingly unruffled form of the fallen angel, the smell of the brandy wafting about her.

[LUCIFER]

Please make up your mind

[/color]

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed only in the slightest bit as Zerachiel pressed the questions again. He gave a slight shrug and took another sip of his brandy. Business was his purpose here. Of course angels couldn’t read other angel’s minds. It was funny how that worked out. He thought that she could have pieced it together by now. He was, after all, Michael’s closest of siblings. Well, ‘close’ was used loosely at this point. He hadn’t spoken to his brother in ages and it was quite hard to find an archangel that didn’t want to be found. The fact that he had been trying to find Michael was only straining their tense relationship further. Still, even if this meeting did not go well, he would get his message delivered to Michael, and he would find out what he was doing on the other side.

The man set the glass of alcohol down and his eyes flicked back to Zerachiel. Had she not figured it out, or did she just wanted to hear what he wanted to know out loud?
I wasn’t lying when I spoke of business, he started whilst interlacing his fingers together and resting his hands on the table, ”I’m trying to contact my brother. It has been such a long time sense we talked last. I want to know what he’s doing, how he’s been…what he is planning.”

Lucifer leaned backwards a few inches as he watched Zerachiel’s reaction. He doubted what information he would obtain here but there was always hope. Even if he only caught scraps and fragments of what was going on, it would be a solid start. He smiled a bit as the other angel asked him, him of all souls, who she was. He laughed.
"Of course, you’re one of Michael’s followers. You’re quite high among his little posse, Zerachiel," he spoke and there was an underlying river of venom in his voice.

Zerachiel had taken the closest thing to his old title, and a fury burned in his stomach for it. As if there was anyone else who could properly take that claim. Heaven had tried to replace him, to forget. He would not let that happen, oh no. There would be none of that. Living or dead, he was the Morning Star and no “angel of the sun” would block out his shine.

She went on and he had to relax his hands and take another drink. How many times had he heard that question? How many times had he answered it? How many more times would he have to keep repeating himself? It was infuriating but he went on to answer her question anyway.

”I don’t know what they had told you. I never saw your face on the battle field. Do you think it would be easy to kill your sibling? he started, his face twisting into the pain that he honestly did feel inside. He would do what needed to be done for his cause, but that didn’t stop the process from being painful. ”Do you think I really want to kill my brothers? If I did not feel any pain toward killing them I would have not of tried, repeatedly, to contact them, to talk. I would have not tried to tell them of my reasons, of my thought and idea. No, of course it hurts me to see them fall. I am not the monster they make me to be.”

Before I hope you die

[/color][/right]

[ZERACHIEL]

Lucifer, you are wasting your time as well as mine—your visit is in vain. Even if I knew, I would not permit myself to answer your question,” Zerachiel replied coolly. She had been separated from Heaven long enough for her powers to be significantly affected by her departure. The angel both respected and cared deeply for the archangel, however she could no longer follow Michael if he intended to follow-through with the avoidable destruction of earth and its inhabitants; she adhered to God’s orders above even those of her brother and her responsibility was to that of the world He had so beautifully created. Though, she knew Michael was merely standing by what he believed to be right; the apocalypse—fighting against Lucifer—was programmed into him. They said old habits died hard and she believed each word. “If Michael wished to contact you, he would have before now.”

She had been high ranking among her brethren, though she doubted her title remained intact. Now Zerachiel could barely hold her own against an angel, she was quite defenseless, relying on manmade weaponry in order to defend herself. She could still mend minor injuries and retained a tad of her telekinetic talents, but not enough to outwit even the lowest positioned angels on the hierarchy. “With that said, I have not spoken to him recently,” she added, wondering if Lucifer knew fully well of own reluctant rebellion. Still, she remained optimistic and hoped that one day she would be allowed to repent and return to her home.

“I could not bear to murder my kin in cold blood,” she responded. “If you dislike doing so, then why continue? Why must you prolong this insufferable war? What is there to gain? I do not understand your motives. You will only cause more pain.” True, Zerachiel did not partake in the battle so many years previous, she preferred a diplomatic approach; that is where she differed from her siblings who so willingly resorted to violence—God created her differently in that aspect.

“Will you kill me?” The words felt alien on her tongue, though it did not hinder her curiosity. She would not—could not—give him what he desired; how would he react to her disobedience?

[LUCIFER]

I pity you child..

[/color]

Ah, well, he had tried. Curretnly that was all that he could do. He had not expected her to just flat out tell him where and what his brother was doing. Michael had been quiet once Lucifer had been put into the Pit. He doubted that his brother felt the slightest bit of guilt. He smiled a little at her statement. She might have been his right hand at one point, but she was no longer in the loop. Well, that was good enough for him and he found it humorous. Michael rarely talked to anybody it seemed, ever sense he had left Heaven. Michael had been quite the chatter box but times had certainly changed.

His smile faded and was replaced quickly by the cold and thoughtful mask that he often wore. Well, maybe it wasn’t a mask. Lucifer’s mind was always considering options, moving the chess pieces, and trying to figure out the best strategy of attack. He looked over at the angel and shook his head slightly. She had been well fed those lies that Michael had spread about him. It was petty and cruel. Yes, that sounded like his brother exactly. Lucifer clenched his jaw a little bit. She was wrong. He never killed in cold blood. He always gave souls the option, a choice. Others attacked him first, and he only retaliated. Lucifer scoffed, a tone of anger and disgust in his voice.

Her last question made him lift his eyes to her own. A small smile spread over half his face. The Devil laughed as he took his drink and finished it. He set the glass back down on the table and stood. Leaning over the surface a little he looked down at her. As much as he wished that he could smite her down right now, he had rules. He followed those rules and killing her now would be breaking them. And then what would he be? Just as bad as Michael, just as bad as the others that murdered without being provoked in the first place. Lucifer had only attacked once and that was the last war and he suspected that one instance was going to haunt him forever. No, he wasn’t going to kill her, not here, not now, and most certainly not yet.

"I do not know the exact tales they told you about me..." he started as he pointed at her, "I will not do that." he said with a strange and disturbing smile.
He without sin, cast the first stone. and Lucifer knew that he had sinned. He had his pride, his rules, his emotions, but he knew what he had done. He knew that he had sinned against his Father. He might be ‘The Devil’ but he wasn’t a mindless beast that the other angels made him sound like.

For you have been blinded by their lies

[/right]

[ZERACHIEL]

In spite of Lucifer’s reply, Zerachiel remained wary of the fallen angel, his smile unsettling her. “Thank you,” she responded hesitantly, somewhat relieved. Averting her gaze, she considered what he had said. Both angels and humans knew of Lucifer’s fall from grace, his deceiving nature, and penchant for creating iniquity—he had sinned against their Father; she still could not comprehend the motivation behind his rebellion. The Bible even recounted the legend, unwaveringly reinforcing the King of Hell’s corrupt persona. The aforementioned had been forcefully engraved into her beliefs time and time again and she would not allow him her persuade her otherwise.

Frowning slightly the angel inclined her head, scrutinizing the Devil through inquisitive green eyes. “What purpose would Michael—or any of our brethren for that matter—have spreading lies about you?” she inquired, genuinely curious. Speaking the untruth was a sin in and of itself, Zerachiel could not imagine that the archangel would go to such great of lengths in order to ruin Lucifer’s already tarnished image. What he brazenly implied angered her. Michael had not been the one penalized for his disobedience; he was God’s most trusted son after all. Although he remained adamant as regards to initiating the apocalypse, she had never doubted him. He was a respectable and moral individual, unlike the man opposite her.

She wished the war between Heaven and Hell would come to an end. Angels, demons, and even humans were suffering from the skirmish. Soon the seals would be forcibly broken—it disturbed her to know that her siblings yearned for Judgment Day as they did now. Zerachiel would have expected the damned to instigate the countdown to Lucifer’s own escape from the pit; not her brethren. She could no longer swear fealty to Michael knowing what he intended to do. And so she left. Was she any better than Lucifer? Had she too sinned against their Father?

[LUCIFER]

Of all things, he was quite surprised that she was actually saying ‘thank you’ to him. It caught him of guard for the briefest of moments, but not a single motion on his face gave him away. Most of his emotional shifts were internal ones, and over the years he had figured out that there was not anything truly beneficial of somebody being able to read your expressions like a book. That was for humans, not for him.

Lucifer moved away from the table a few paces and looked out the window briefly. He heard her question and just shook his head to himself. Wasn’t that clear? Did she not know her kind that well? If she had been close to Michael…well, he had certainly shielded himself away from her quite well. He rubbed his face a little and covered his mouth for a moment in thought. He decided it was better to sit in silence than to speak his voice on it now. She was stubborn, like all angels, and it had taken even him – eons to ‘open his eyes’ to the truth.

If she would ever change her mind, it wasn’t yet. Still, he could almost see the gears in her head turning. He turned around and leaned against a counter, standing between two stools as he perched his arm on the edge.
"Really? Zerachiel?" he finally said, pretending to be cutely dumbfounded by her question.

[ZERACHIEL]

Zerachiel observed the fallen angel, deep within her own thoughts, as she contemplated each and every word that had been exchanged thus far. Lucifer terrified her, his presence unsettling Zerachiel, however they were kin. She had not known him personally, though the legend of his uprising against the Lord was widespread, even among humans. He was the Morning Star, the Devil, Satan—the Prince of Darkness. God created Lucifer; He had known what he would become—what he would do. The fate of the universe—those who inhabited it—had already been predetermined since its creation. Why would He construct a world filled with such hostility; why create someone like Lucifer if his destiny was merely to rebel; why must they fight each other?

The angel no longer understood her Father's motives . . . not when everything up until now could have been avoided—the apocalypse could be avoided.

The sudden onslaught of questions overwhelming her train of thought weighed heavily on her shoulders; perplexing her further since her own revolt. Zerachiel was not accustomed to asking. She had always been summoned when required and received orders she dutifully fulfilled without difficulty. Confusion, shame, and uncertainty coursed through her; an intense mixture of emotions that interweaved themselves into her once deep-rooted faith in the Lord. The doubt had been growing, lurking in the recesses of her mind. She felt it; however, she continued to suppress it—to deny the burgeoning sensations threatening to dismantle her beliefs.

“I am simply curious . . .” Zerachiel responded finally, voice even in spite of her inner turmoil. “When Father created humankind and you chose to defy His orders, did you feel guilty for doing so?” He had expressed remorse for taking the lives of his siblings, though his feelings toward God were another matter entirely. She wanted to know if perhaps Lucifer had too experienced such emotions when he resisted, despite their reasons to rebel being completely different from one another. Zerachiel had continuously concealed her misgivings, but she wondered if she could maintain the internal struggle or if one day she would have to come to terms with her doubts.

God created her. He planned for this to happen. And a part of her wanted to comprehend His reasoning for He had hurt her.