Chapter five

Theology

A/N: Yes, that big scary word theology. This chapter is the reason your last chapter was so late. Love you all!

"What would you say if I told you that everything you thought you knew about religion was an elaborate lie?" I look at Narx seriously. He looks back, and I can read the sincerity in his eyes. "Speak." I say, and he looks down at the ground, and then back at me. I'm having real trouble staying in the air; the heat is already making me more fatigued then I should be, and sweat is running freely down my face. "Shall we go inside?" he asks, gesturing towards a building on the ground. I eye him warily, but he doesn't seem to be trying to trap me, and even if he was, all he would have to do will be waiting until the heat got to me, so I nod, dropping quickly towards the ground. He follows me, a pale streak with jet black wings.

He lands gracefully a full five seconds before I do, and is surrounded by demons the second he hits the ground. They seem oddly graceful, some outright beautiful, others exuding the same careless sensuality as Narx. These ones carry swords or staffs, with glowing orbs adorning the pommels. Dark colors are prominent, dramatic purple eyes here, an unnaturally thin facial structure on another, high swept cheekbones on another. Here and there exotic colored scaled creatures flow rather than walk, conversing with others for tense seconds, snapping terse replies back. Everywhere there are wings, sometimes multiple pairs to one being. All in all, this place, whatever it may be- for Hell it is certainly not- is beautiful.

Lithe fairy like creatures dance through the crowd in pairs, always keeping physical contact with their partners possessively, laughing and chatting with the others. Skin tones range from beige to black to topaz, reflecting light in a prismatic gleam whenever they reach one of the lampposts that adorn the street ways. Still through this throng move soldiers, moving with an economy of motion, dangerously relaxed at all times. Narx breaks free of the crowd, shooting venomous looks at all who try to follow him. When he finally reaches me he gestures to the entrance of the closest house. "Inside, Ma'am?" his tone is facetious, his face mischievous. Then, with another one of his mercurial mood changes, his face becomes hard, eyes losing the laughing light they had possessed only seconds before. "Uriel, report." I spin to see one of the lithe creatures behind me, his high cheekbones and dark eyes lending him a predator's face. His body matches too, muscles evident beneath his outfit. For the twentieth time today I thank the gods that I'm not prone to blushing. I lick my suddenly dry lips as Uriel answers Narx. "Two hundred lost in last skirmish, however, scouts have confirmed that the enemy's losses double or triple our own. Training has already begun on the replacements. Four hundred and ninety seven Demons manifested as Legion, two hundred forty five as Horsemen, ten as Principality, and one as Dominion. There were once again no Powers. Mephistopheles would like a word whenever you have time. End report."

Narx nods, and Uriel turns to leave, saying "May the Morning Star shine true to the Path this day." Narx answers "May the One True God Reveal the Path to us all." Uriel disappears into the crowd, and Narx gestures me inside. The instant that I step through the gate the temperature drops to a more reasonable degree, and I shake the sweat from my wings in relief. Now that I can finally think again, I look around. The archway I just stepped through led to a path that meanders through a garden of flowers in every color imaginable that sparkle like gems, and some that aren't. Sculptures of every creature under the sun littered the grounds, and songbirds flitted back and forth over the flowers. The house that seemed so close from the street is hardly within sight now, naught but a monolithic structure on the horizon.

I look at Narx, before asking the question that's been plaguing me for a while now. "You said this was Hell, but this couldn't be farther from Hell. I mean. Look at it! It's gorgeous!" He looks at me before walking off towards the house. Then, he turns back, an irrepressible smile on his face, and screams "Race you!" before jumping into the air and darting forward. I take off after him, finding that once I have acclimated to the heat of this place it actually helps me keep moving. I'm catching up to him when he blurs, suddenly at the doorway of the mansion. I have a split second to be confused before an unknown force grabs me and propels me forwards. The world rockets past and then I am yanked to a stop at the door as well. "Beat you!" Exclaims Narx, and I wonder if he has multiple personality disorder or something. With the rate his mood changes, I wouldn't be surprised if he did. "Shall we enter?" he asks; suddenly back in his dangerous persona. It isn't a question, it's an order. I nod, and the door swings open of it's own accord. I step inside, and am immediately surrounded by a grey formless mist. Narx gestures grandly to a patch of grey, and says "Please, be seated." An armchair appears, and I sit hesitantly. "You… you said that religion was an elaborate lie?" I ask hesitantly. Narx nods and I sigh. "Care to explain?" I ask. Narx rakes hand through his hair, then heaves a sigh. "It would be easier if I just showed you." He answers, and waves a hand.

The grey mist dissolves, and I yelp. An image forms around us, and when I turn to ask Narx where we are his face is rapturous. As the picture clarifies, I gasp. Emerald greens, dripped glass blues, oranges so brilliant they hurt to look at, yellows that look so soft and inviting that I want to just lie down and sleep, jeweled purples so deeply vibrant they seem to shout with life all come into focus, reveal a garden world that seems to teem with life. Blue green birds that look so delicate I'm afraid to breathe on them flit from tree to flower, wings moving so fast that they are blurs. A singing sound comes from one corner of the garden, a sound so pure that I can barely stand to listen to it. The light is brighter here than anywhere else, and I get glimpses of ethereal creatures darting through the pathways that seem to change on a whim. Now, whose whim that would be remains a mystery. I glance back at Narx, and I am shocked to see tears running down his face. His hands tremble, and every once in a while a longing sound emits from his throat. I shake him gently, and he snaps out of it, gesturing curtly towards one of the creatures who move in the sunlight.

"This…" he says. "This was me." The creature is of the same height as Narx, with green and silver ringed eyes. He is clothed in white so brilliantly that I can hardly look at him. He is armed with a sword with a glowing amethyst orb seated on the pommel. Even as I finish evaluating him another being strides into the clearing. This one is covered in scales that shine in the light, now purple, now green, and now cyan. His eyes are blood red to match the glow of Narx's sword. "Michael." The Narx thing states, and Michael nods. "Lucifer." His voice is a growl, and Narx's- Lucifer's isn't much better. The scene freezes, and Narx- or is it Lucifer? No matter, something to worry about on a later date- begins talking in a low monotone. "I was a Power in Heaven. Michael was my Archangel. In those days, a power and an Archangel bonded at birth and were rarely separated. Each power was born with a spirit-orb that manifests itself within a couple hours after birth. Generally, and Archangel is about ten when their Power is born, and they are meant to be a guiding influence. When an Archangel comes into contact with his/her Power their eyes will change color to match said Power's orb. Michael was my power. The first ever Archangel, to go with the first ever Power.

"Of course, as such, it was only fitting that we hated each other. Somewhat ironic, actually. Micheal had thought that he was to be the favorite. That he was to be the best, the most loved. Then, when I came along, he saw my birth as an upsurption of his place. He felt that he had been relegated to babysitter.

"I learned quickly not to rely on Micheal."

Narx waves a hand, and the scene starts moving again. Lucifer has his hand on his sword, and Micheal holds a staff that is aglow with a pulsing orange light. Somehow, I know that the two of them would not hesitate to attck the other at the slightest hint of provocation, and I wonder how it is that this came to be in Heaven.

"Scared, little one?" Micheal taunts, and Lucifer's eyes narrow. He straightens from his crouch, green eyes blazing. "Not on your life, Brother." The menace in the air is palpable, and the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. The colors in the garden seem to be muted, the laughter in the air a little more strained, less easy. The sky had darkened somewhat, and Lucifer's sword cames out of its' sheath. Micheal smirks, then says: "Just so you know, your little paradise won't last much longer."

At once the scene freezes again. Narx's face is drawn, standing out even more than normal with the contrast between his black clothes. When he speaks, it is in a drawn, tired voice. "I won't go through the whole sordid affair, as we don't have the time to spare. Micheal's soldiers attacked, the pure of heart fought back, but they had struck where it hurt most, while our God was gone. The battle raged for days, weeks, with Angel blood soaking the gardens, the screams of the dead and dying ringing through the air. We fought well, but eventually, Micheal and the others triumphed, and we Fell. Twas then that we took the name Demons, rather than to have to share a name with those traitors who inhabit even now our long lost home. Religions were founded, but they were founded on what used to be the truth and the Angels influenced their turnings, until the Demons were evil, and Angels could do no wrong. Thus is still the perception among most of the mortal kind on our kind. We wait, and we watch for the coming of our age, for the time when our god will return from his long absence, when we will once again be able to return to our ancient home, and throw the traitors down to Hell.

"This is where you come in. Not specifically you, but your kind. You all are offspring of Demons and Angels, much like Nephilim, but a whole class above them. Your people lead the earthly version of the battle. Falcyn is the Demoniac force, while BlackFang works for the Angels. Angels have contacted BlackFang, but always up until now, Falcyn was kept in the dark as to their involovement in the ancient struggle. However, matters are coming to a head. The King of Sunderia has been taken by BlackFang, siezed and brought to the Angels. We know not why, only that it is important that we get him back.

"I, as leader of the Demons, charge you, First of Falcyn with the duy of retrieving the lost King. Bring him home safe to Us, and We shall be pleased."

As though in a trance I nod, before a bright flash of light blinds me, and I feel the cool earthly breeze ruffling my hair.