Hello, everyone! I've decided to write something different, you know, broaden my horizons a bit. This is a prequel to my story 'Wrong', but by no means do you have to read it to understand this fic, as this focuses on the angel's side of the story. To all of you who have read it...I hope I don't dissapoint.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Chasm:
A deep, steep-sided opening in the earth's surface; an abyss or gorge.
A sudden interruption of continuity; a gap.
A pronounced difference of opinion, interests, or loyalty.
000
Heaven is a realm of indescribable beauty illuminated by holy light; the birth of creation and the beginning of life, formed by God and sculpted by His infinite wisdom and everlasting power. The angels, born of His love, sing their praise for Him and for the light and harmony that surrounds them, for Heaven is their home, their life, given to them by the Almighty Father. The hallowed halls are made of the finest of marble, trimmed with gold and ivory, and they go on endlessly and lead to the inner chambers located in the center of Heaven, though most angels come only to seek Revelation. However, few angels do this because they are content and feel no need to seek guidance. Almost all the activity in Heaven happens outside in the open air amongst the angelic choirs raising their voices together as one in praise, the newly born angels as they take to the air for the first time, and where the throne of the Almighty sits at the highest point in the upper regions of Heaven, the angels showing their devotion and adoration from below Him. All He asks of them is their obedience, a requirement that no angel has any qualms about. They would dare not think of disobeying Him.
In one of the higher regions of Heaven stands the archangel Michael, watching over the angels below with keen emerald eyes. His posture is erect as he redirects his gaze out into the inky blackness of the galaxies on the borders of Heaven, surveying the vast space of the universe. Only God knows of what lies within the dark depths, though Michael is sure that many Evil Ones reside there. The Evil Ones were created before the angels, but they turned away from God many millennia ago and now they lurk on the outskirts of Heaven, watching and waiting so they may attack. It is Michael's job as Heaven's protector to never allow this to happen.
"I knew I'd find you here." Michael doesn't turn at the familiar and slightly teasing voice. He feels the light pressure of Gabriel's grace push against his playfully and despite himself, the corner of his mouth twitches. Gabriel's good humor is infectious. The messenger archangel comes to stand beside Michael, also peering out into the dark expanse of space. "Father should really do something about that." Gabriel tilts his head as he squints at the void. "It's so…boring. Maybe He'll let me fix it. You know, let me liven it up a bit." Michael snorts.
"I doubt that, Gabriel. He still wishes to speak with you about that stunt you pulled with Lucifer. Speaking of which, have you seen our brother as of late?"
"Did Father sound angry?" Gabriel asks, completely ignoring Michael's question. His grace flutters briefly as he thinks of being on the end of their Lord's wrath. "I only wanted to ruffle Lucy up a bit; I didn't mean to make those black holes." The swirling vortexes are now dotted over the galaxy due to Gabriel's pranks, most of which are targeted at Lucifer because as far as Gabriel is concerned, his reactions are the best. Once, Gabriel incensed Lucifer so much that he destroyed a rather large pillar that Gabriel was standing next to. Of course the pillar reconstructed itself, but the loud noise startled two fledglings and soon a small gathering of angels appeared, soothing their younger siblings as they casted wary eyes at the two archangels. No one dared speak against them; it was not their place.
'One of the perks of being royalty', Gabriel had told Lucifer with a grin. He didn't tell Lucifer that he stuck around and taught the fledglings how to fly and of the small burst of pride he had felt when they joined the other angels in the air.
Gabriel breaks out of his reverie once Michael begins to speak, the elder angel's voice as solid and steady as it has always been.
"He is irritated with you. Have you seen Lucifer? I will not ask again."
Gabriel grumbles at the ever present seriousness that surrounds his brother, but he supposes that Michael can't help it. He is the commanding archangel, after all.
"He's with Seraphiel."
Michael nods his approval. "Good. How is our young brother faring? You have not caused him any trouble, have you?" Michael turns to look at Gabriel, knowing full well that it will only be a matter of time before Gabriel starts up his pranks with newly born angel. The fact that Gabriel has a soft spot for fledglings is the only reason why he has refrained from any mischief towards Seraphiel.
"Of course not. Not while Lucifer is watching him, at least." Gabriel grins slyly at the disapproving expression on Michael's features.
"Lucifer will retaliate one of these days, Gabriel. You know how…sensitive he can be."
Gabriel laughs. "Lucifer is all talk. The worst he'll do is throw a tantrum."
000
Seraphiel's grace curls tightly, unsure as he looks up at his brother. The newly formed wings on his back tremble slightly as he flexes them. They are small and weak, much like unused muscles. The russet colored feathers are soft and a little matted, though that will change once he matures. By then he will have already reached out with his grace to the rest of his siblings and they will be forever intertwined, allowing his wings to shine with the communal power of his brothers and sisters. But for now he is simply a fledgling, and Lucifer has taken upon himself to see to his upbringing. God has commanded that one of the archangels look after him because he is special and will be of great use to Heaven one day. Lucifer can't see how right now, but he trusts in the Lord's word.
"My wings are not as strong as yours, brother." Seraphiel's gold eyes lock onto Lucifer's, honey clashing with steel. That is one of the things Lucifer has noticed that make Seraphiel different. While most newborns are shy and rarely meet the eyes of a higher ranking angel, Seraphiel maintains eye contact at all times. He is always watching, and Lucifer is not sure of what to make of that.
"That does not matter, Seraphiel. All angels fly. You are an angel, therefore you fly."
Lucifer watches his little brother as he flaps one wing experimentally. He then flaps the other one, frowning slightly. His grace is still curled tightly into itself, insecure, and Lucifer reaches out with his own, blanketing Seraphiel's in reassurance. Lucifer's grace is strange to Seraphiel, oddly cool but warm at the same time. It is completely different from the comforting warmth of Gabriel's and from the power that exudes from Michael's. Everything about Lucifer is different, he has come to realize. There is something pure about the Morning Star, a radiance that is unattainable and awe inspiring.
"Go on, little one." Lucifer pushes Seraphiel forward with one wing. "It is not very difficult."
Seraphiel falls. A lot. This is normal, and Lucifer makes no move to help him. He supposes if Seraphiel were in another angel's care they would be taking his hand and flying themselves, letting him become familiar in the air until he would let go and stay airborne by himself. But coddling is not in Lucifer's nature, so instead he lets Seraphiel stumble and fall, observes with calculating eyes as his younger brother's grace darkens with his frustration. His wings are beating in the air furiously, and Lucifer finds himself staring at their strange color. Lucifer is not sure if God is responsible for the color of an angel's wings. The common color is black, though there are exceptions. Gabriel's are a rich golden shade, while Michael and Lucifer are the only angels with white wings. Seraphiel's are a strange color that can't seem to decide whether it wants to be red or brown. It's different, a color Lucifer has never seen on an angel before.
What an odd little brother God has bestowed upon him.
Seraphiel is now hovering in the air a bit, but he's turning himself around in circles and Lucifer can't help but chuckle when he falls to the ground again. Seraphiel obviously does not approve of Lucifer's amusement. His grace flares briefly, a little spark of warmth that shoots through Lucifer's grace through their connection. Seraphiel turns to the Morning Star, gold eyes blazing in determination, and he spreads his oddly colored wings, kicks off with his feet, and he soars over Lucifer's head, flying higher and higher, and as the light of Heaven passes through those abnormally colored feathers they come alive in hues of brilliant oranges and reds, a living flame amongst his siblings.
Lucifer smiles.
When Seraphiel lands he is weary but his grace is strong with the success of his first flight. Lucifer does not praise him.
"Come, Seraphiel. I have something to show you." Lucifer spreads his wings and Seraphiel is exposed to the full glory of the archangel's wings. They shine brighter than anything Seraphiel has seen and his grace once again shrinks in his brother's presence, reminded just how insignificant he is next to Lucifer. Lucifer beats his wings once and is in the air before Seraphiel can blink. The younger angel hastens to the air and he follows his brother as best as he can, though it his hard to keep up with Lucifer's pace when he is still tired from his earlier flight. The elder angel sees this and slows down a little, allowing for Seraphiel to float along beside him, occasionally dipping down before he rights himself. As they fly, Seraphiel's grace uncurls in his curiosity and he takes in his surroundings, noticing the other angels below him. None of them come near. Nonetheless, Seraphiel stretches his grace and links it with his siblings, frowning slightly once he feels their apprehension once they've joined.
"Lucifer, why do they avoid us?"
The Light Bearer turns to look at Seraphiel and the younger angel sees something shimmering in the gray depths, an alien and unsettling gleam behind the cunning light that always shines within Lucifer's eyes. It disappears so quickly that after a moment Seraphiel dismisses it completely. Lucifer returns his gaze ahead.
"We are different."
Seraphiel finds this strange, because he doesn't think he feels any different from the other angels.
They don't speak again until Lucifer guides them down, closer to their other siblings. Seraphiel becomes aware of many voices singing, only to realize that they were always there, an ever present existence in the back of his mind. The angels around them are singing praises to their God and it brings Seraphiel great joy, a joy he can't describe. He wants to bask in it forever, to keep the feeling cradled as close as he can to his soul. One of the angels beckons him to join in their praise. The angel's wings are black and his eyes are green. He smiles and reaches out to Seraphiel with his grace.
Why do you not sing?
Seraphiel frowns at the question and fires back with his own.
Why do you sing?
It is what angels do.
This answer doesn't satisfy Seraphiel and he turns to Lucifer.
"Why do we sing?"
Lucifer looks down at his brother, his strange little brother with the weird gold eyes and wings of fire, and he tells Seraphiel what God ordered him to, because He knows Seraphiel and in time Seraphiel will come to know Him too.
"They sing to praise our Father for His love. You sing to spread it."
Seraphiel doesn't understand, but Lucifer pushes him forward to the other angels. Seraphiel hovers uncertainly as the other angels fly around him singing with their melodic voices, wanting to take part but unsure of how to do it. He feels Lucifer's presence in his mind, urging him on.
Sing, Seraphiel, he urges.
Seraphiel timidly opens his mouth and begins to sing the words he didn't realize he knew. Warmth that is unfamiliar yet welcomed begins to swell inside him and his voice strengthens as the feeling grows until he's lifting his voice with the other angels, finally realizing what that warmth is.
Father.
"Jophiel is rather vain, don't you think, Lucy? He's always talking about how enlightened and open minded he is."
Gabriel is flying in circles around Lucifer, who is quickly growing irritated at his younger brother's antics.
"Stop it, Gabriel," he snaps. "I would have thought you would have learned my name after thousands of centuries, or are you just incapable of retaining any information that does not deal with your stupid tricks?"
Gabriel stops in mid-flight, wincing. "Ouch, bro. That hurt me. Really." He sidles up to Lucifer and bumps into him playfully. "All I want is for you to love me," he croons. "Lucy, you hurt me so." Lucifer knocks his brother on the head with the tip of his wing and Gabriel knocks him back before shooting away, Lucifer hot on his heels. Michael watches the scene unfold with disapproval evident in his gaze.
Two of Heaven's finest warriors squabbling like newborns. Sadly, this behavior is normal.
Michael turns to look at Seraphiel, who is also staring at the two bickering archangels, his wings outstretched and fluttering absently. Michael still believes his brother is a little strange, but he has matured and as a result he has risen in rank in the Seraphim. Michael would not be surprised if one day he became chief. That is, if Lucifer grew tired of the position.
"Gabriel! Stop that!" Lucifer's voice is angry and he glares at his brother. Gabriel holds two of Lucifer's shining feathers, grinning wickedly.
"Afraid your wings won't look so pretty anymore?" Gabriel cackles and zips away. Lucifer doesn't bother going after him. He seethes in place for a moment before he looks at Michael.
"Command him to cease with this nonsense! I am sick of loosing my feathers!"
"Stop reacting to him and he will leave you alone." Michael and Seraphiel have figured this out, but Lucifer seems to have trouble with the concept. At his answer Lucifer snorts incredulously.
"How am I supposed to ignore him when he is pulling out my feathers? You are of no help, brother." Lucifer leaves in an angry a rush of wings. Michael sighs, and Seraphiel chuckles.
"I suppose I must go and speak with him," Michael says, his reluctance to do so obvious. But Seraphiel has learned to see past the façade that Michael cloaks around himself as Heaven's defender, past his stoic demeanor and hard eyes. He truly does love Lucifer, even if he refuses to let it show very often. All angels love each other unconditionally, though some have stronger bonds than others. Seraphiel watches as Michael spreads his wings and takes to the air, disappearing from sight only a few seconds later.
Michael flies in Lucifer's general direction at a leisurely pace, the steady beating of his wings the only sound around him. Knowing his brother, Lucifer needs a little time to himself to calm down. Gabriel is the only angel Michael knows that has that kind of effect on the Morning Star. Lucifer is usually calm and collected at any given time, keeping a level head in the most distressing of situations. Michael figures Gabriel must find amusement in being able to affect their brother in such a way.
The second gate of Heaven comes into view, guarded by the angel Hadraniel, who bows as Michael lands and approaches him.
"Hadraniel, has Lucifer passed this way?"
Normally Michael would not have to ask, but Lucifer is cloaking himself, otherwise Michael would have tracked his grace. It seems Lucifer wishes to be difficult.
"Yes, Prince Lucifer headed in that direction not very long ago."
Michael nods his thanks and leaves Hadraniel to his post. It doesn't take him long to find Lucifer, who is in conversation with a lesser angel who seems to be afraid of the archangel but unwilling to leave and risk angering him. For good reason, too.
No one is happy when Lucifer is not.
At the sight of Michael the angel's wings begin to shake and he bows deeply, his small frame trembling slightly.
"H-hello, Prince Michael."
Lucifer turns around and barely manages to resist rolling his eyes at Michael's reprimanding expression.
"Hasdiel and I were discussing whether or not God was thinking clearly when He created Gabriel. His existence is troubling." Lucifer turns to his companion, who stiffens and looks at Michael with wide hazel eyes, his fear evident. "Weren't we, Hasdiel?" The poor angel looks like he might faint at any moment.
"Um – I – I suppose –"
"Gabriel was created in the way that our Father saw fit. To think otherwise would be considered blasphemy," Michael interrupts, ignoring the trembling angel before him.
"Everything Gabriel does is to be considered as blasphemy."
"I will tell you the same thing I have been telling you for thousands of years. Stop reacting to him and he will leave you alone."
"That is easy for you to say! He would never dare to pull out any of your feathers."
Unnoticed by the two arguing archangels, Hasdiel begins to back away slowly.
"Lucifer, you are one of the most powerful angels in Heaven. Loosing a few feathers should not bother you. They grow back."
"That is not the point! Gabriel does not respect me anymore than…than him!" Lucifer points at Hadriel, who freezes, his gray wings outstretched in preparation for flight.
"That is not true. You know that."
"He has a strange way of showing it."
"You are the strange one, Lucifer."
"I am not strange."
"Yes, you are. You are almost stranger than Seraphiel. A mighty feat, I must add."
"I am no such thing!" Lucifer exclaims incredulously. How dare Michael say these things to him?
Undetected, Hasdiel slips away and out of sight. He has never flown faster in his life.
"It is okay to be a little strange, Lucifer. Seraphiel is a prime example of that. He is of high rank at his age, even with his apparent strangeness." Michael's voice is light and teasing, though Lucifer is too agitated to notice.
"I am not strange! Hasdiel, you will agree with me!"
Both archangels turn to where they last saw the angel, only to find him gone. Lucifer tilts his head and Michael's wings ruffle at the angel's abrupt exit. Michael looks toward his brother.
"I believe your strangeness has frightened him away."
Before Lucifer can respond, they both sense Gabriel approaching them at a very high speed. He is in front of them a second later, not bothering to land, his golden wings beating steadily.
"What is it, Gabriel?" Michael asks, noting his brother's windswept look. The messenger archangel's expression turns to one of hesitance and his gaze darts to Lucifer before coming to rest on Michael.
"It is Father. He…He is creating a new race. They are to be called Man, and they will be made in His image."
So...thoughts? Is it okay? This is really different from what I usually write, so it would help if you could give me any feedback. :)
Reviews are deeply appreciated.