Author's Note: So this is in fact a prequel to the Fallen series. It takes place during the time that Exodus, described in the Bible, took place. You'll see what I mean in the first part. Here I'm delving into three angelic characters: Camael, Verchiel, and Lucifer. Now all three characters may appear slightly different than they are in the series. Keep in mind that they've all had a few thousand years to grow and learn since the time that this fic takes place. This fic has three parts, but the overall title comes from a Kamelot song with the same name. I'll post the appropriate lyrics at the end of each part because I feel they really fit the story. I'll also upload the whole song in the end. That's it for now. Enjoy.

Across the Highlands

By: Silver Spider

Part I

Egypt burned. The mighty empire of Ramses II was going down in a glorious flood of flames. The harsh desert winds were slowly but surely eating away at the mortar of statues and obelisks. Mortar pored with the blood of slaves.

A lone cloaked figure stood on the tallest dune overlooking the capital palace. He wasn't sure exactly what has drawn him to this particular place. He'd been quite content exploring Greece when a sudden feeling tugged at him. The kingdom teemed with Divine energies, and after so much time alone, he longed for the slightest scent of home. Having made his decision, he descended the sandy slope and entered the capital city.

To say that suffering was everywhere would have been a gross understatement. The once proud and prosperous empire was on its knees. People poured out into the streets, some weeping for their lost crop and cattle, others praying to their idols in the temples. Men raised their voices to Pharaoh, beginning their ruler to relieve their misery, but the palace was deadly silent. Despair and anguish were thick in the air.

The wander left the capital behind and moved beyond its borders into the quarters of the Hebrew slaves. The feeling was different here. Yes, there was fear and anxiety, but there was also something else; wonder, exhilaration, hope. The small simple houses certainly lacked the wealth and grandeur of the Egyptian homes, but it was clear to the stranger just what kind of people lived within their walls. They were quite a curiosity to him, these people who held such high favor with the Almighty. He saw no difference from the many others he'd encountered on his long journey, and yet there was something about them.

His own appearance was neither Egyptian nor Hebrew, having not yet acquired the bronze desert tone to his skin, therefore most he passed took him for nothing more than a travailing foreigner and left him alone. Even if they found him an oddity, the people of Egypt – both slave and free men alike – had bigger things to worry about.

As he entered the slave quarters, the first thing that struck him was were the deserted streets and deafening silence. There was not a single person outside, no children playing or women chattering. His attention was then drawn to the houses, or rather the lid posts of the doorways. They were marked with blood. If there was any doubt in his mind that something was afoot, it was immediately dispelled. He looked up at the night sky for any ominous signs, but saw nothing as of yet. The proverbial calm before the storm, he mused.

The silence was broken by the sound of light yet quick footsteps across the stone street, and he turned just in time to see a woman hurry towards a well with a bucket in her hands. She was definitely not young, as was apparent by her gray hair and deep lines, but she was strong, in both body and will, with an air of defiance around her. Here was someone who would not simply accept a life of servitude. She took a quick survey of her surroundings, then tied the bucket onto the rope and lowered it into the well. It hit the bottom with a splash, and she began to pull it back up but seemed to quickly realize that it was too heavy for her as the rope began to slip in her hands.

"Allow me to assist you," the man offered, stepping into the dim light given off by the various torches. In a few strides he was at the well and took a firm grip on the rope. Once the bucket was safely set on the edge of the well, the woman brushed back her silver tendrils and gave him an assessing glance from head to toe.

"Thank you," she said, "but if I may ask, who are you?"

He opened his mouth to reply when a man emerged from the same house she'd left. At first the traveler thought he was her husband, but the similarity in their features suggested that they were most likely siblings.

"Miriam," the man called to her, his voice slightly hoarse but still quite firm. "Is this the way we treat those who help us? With suspicion?"

"I haven't been a child in a long time, Aaron," the she replied harshly, setting the bucket of water against her hip. "Do not presume to treat me as such." But to the stranger she said, "My thanks again, sir."

With a bow of her head and a glare at her brother, she retreated back into the house, leaving the traveler alone with the older man, who shook his head in mild annoyance.

"Please forgive my sister," he repeated her apology, confirming the travelers suspicion that they were indeed kin. "But these are troubled times, and we cannot be too careful. Still, I would not have that stand in the way of good manors. Please accept my hospitality and dine with us."

"Thank you," the stranger bowed his head, "but I would not like to intrude on your family's time."

"I insist," Aaron smiled. "It is customary among my people. Besides, it would be best or you not to be outside tonight. I'm afraid you have chosen a poor time to visit Egypt."

Both men ducked their heads as they entered the small house. Instantly the smell of cooking lamb stew hit his senses, and the warmth in the air was a welcomed change to the cold desert night. Inside there were several other people. A few younger women were standing over the boiling pot, periodically checking on the progress of their diner, while several men stood to the corner, quietly discussing something among themselves. Aaron gestured to him to sit at a long table in the middle of the room, and he did while his host set across from him.

"May I ask your name, stranger?"

"My name?" he had not yet had a chance to consider what name he was going to use in Egypt. "Call me Daniel."

"Call you?" Aaron raised a bushy gray eyebrow. "It is not your true name then. The name you have chosen means "God is my judge" among our people. What is it that you think He is judging you for?"

"Many grave sins," the stranger smiled sadly.

"Recognizing your sins puts you on the path to forgiveness," the old man mused. "But at least for tonight, forget your sorrow. Come, you must eat with us. You cannot venture further tonight either way. Miriam, bring supper for our guest."

A moment later the woman appeared caring two bowls of steaming hot stew and sat one before him and another in front of her brother before going back to the large pot to get her own food. She returned and sat next to Aaron, still studying the stranger, though this time it was more in curiosity than suspicion. The traveler threw back his hood, revealing long shaggy black hair and handsome features and dusted off his hands before picking up the spoon before him.

"What is happening here that has you so worried?" he asked.

"We've been promised freedom, but Pharaoh refuses to release us from bondage," the man replied. "Therefore God decreed that until lets us go, great evils will fault upon the land of Egypt. Nine have come and gone leaving great destructions in their wake, yet still Pharaoh refuses us. Now the Almighty prepares to strike with the tenth and final plague. He will descend upon Egypt and slay all the firstborn who are not protected by his mark."

"The blood on the doors," Aaron nodded. "I see." So he had correctly sensed Divine presence after all, and if what the man spoke was true, he knew who it was that was coming to Egypt this night. He realized that it became all the more urgent that he leave before his presence brought harm to these people.

"Are you a follower of the One God as well?" Aaron asked in curiosity.

The stranger considered his answer. "Yes," he finally said, "but it has been a long time since I felt his presence. I'm afraid god has forsaken me, though after everything I have done I could hardly blame Him."

"God never abandons his children," new lines crossed the old man's face as he smiled warmly at him. "Have faith, my friend, and He will come through for you, even if it's not the way you expect."

The traveler returned the smile with gratitude. Even if these people had no idea who he was, didn't know that there was no hope for one such as him, the man's words were comforting. "May I ask how you came to speak with the Almighty?"

"We didn't," this time it was the woman, Miriam, who replied. "Our younger brother, Moses, has been chosen to receive God's Word. He has gone to the palace to speak with Pharaoh one more time, but I doubt he will be met with success until morning."

"Ah," he nodded thoughtfully, then rose from his seat. "I thank you both for your hospitality, but I cannot stay. I must search for my redemption elsewhere."

"But the coming plague…" Aaron argued.

"Believe me," the man cut him off, "it will be safer for both you and me if I left. I wish your people luck and may you receive the freedom that has been denied to you."

The siblings exchanged a confused look, and Miriam looked like she was about to tell her brother that her suspicions in the stranger were justified, but Aaron spoke first. "As you wish, but allow me to show you the way out."

The two men exited the house while Miriam remained behind. Once outside again, the traveler threw his hood back over his head. "Thank you again," he said to the Hebrew.

"No need to thank me," the old man replied. "But before you go, would you do me the favor of knowing your name?"

The stranger considered his request, but just as he was about to answer, a distant role of thunder caught his attention. He looked up at the sky. All seemed clear until his eyes focused on a particularly large star. It was too bright to be natural and it was quickly growing bigger, as if it was heading towards them. Dark eyes widened for a split second before he whirled to face the man.

"Aaron, get inside!" he shouted, pushing the man back into his house without explanation.

He was just in time. Mere seconds later, the air was filled with the sound of beating powerful wings, and the gust of wind they created knocked him off his feet and sending him into the wall of the well behind him. Some stones from the top got dislodged and feel to the bottom with a loud splash. When the dust settled, he finally raised his eyes and was for a moment blinded by the heavenly light that seemed to turn night into day. Then it dissipated, and the traveler saw rows of soldiers, all bearing weapons of fire and armor of Heaven standing before him. Some drew their eyes away, not wishing to see how low one of their brightest stars had fallen, while others sneered at him in disgust. His eyes met the gaze of the figure directly before him, a man with long silver-white hair whose otherwise divine features were twisted with hatred. The traveler rose to his feet, casually dusting of his long robes.

"You keep up that look, Verchiel," he said smugly, "and your face is going to stay like that. Might be too late though."

The angel's brow twitched. He looked like he wanted to take a particularly heavy object to the man's head, something that would give the longest range of splattered blood and cause as much damage. Alas, he was loath to admit that he lacked the power or authority. His only pleasure came in knowing that the one before him lived enduring the worst punishment of any being alive.

"Your insults mean nothing to me," he snarled. "I bask in the glory of Heaven while you are reduced to living among apes."

"Ouch, that hurt," the first of the fallen pretended to wince. "Want to rephrase that, Verchiel? Your halo slopes."

Surprisingly the second-in-command of the Powers didn't bother to respond with an insult of his own. "We are here on a holy mission, Morningstar."

"Yeah, I heard. Sounds like quite a slaughter for you to look forward to. Good to know that the heavenly armor isn't left to rust. You get a good workout from Sodom and Gomorrah or maybe Babylon?"

"We are doing God's work, and you dare to mock us, blasphemer?" ire rose in Verchiel's voice, and Lucifer wondered if he should really be pressing his luck, but whether it was his enjoyment of forcing Verchiel to see his true face or some sort of masochistic tendencies, he only chuckled.

"God's work?" a slender brow rose over dark eyes. "Is that what you told the Grigori when you massacred their children?"

Verchiel's hands began to spark with magical energy as he prepared to summon a weapon of fire. As much as he would have liked to be relieved of his pain, the fallen knew that no matter how angry the Powers soldier was, what they both wished was not to be. That didn't, however, mean that Verchiel couldn't leave him with a headache form Hell as a parting gift. He mentally prepared himself for the blow.

"Silence!"

Instead of the sound of a weapon crashing against his skull, he heard the sound of a powerful voice that sounded much like the roar or a jungle cat. The echo of approaching footsteps. The murmurs of other the Powers died down as they parted. Even Verchiel took a reluctant step back, and the first of the fallen came face to face with a pair of golden eyes.

"Camael..."

I've been witness to so many wars,
that I'm blind to affliction.
No ability left to remorse
It's my faith and conviction.
Wide awake
in this world
full of hate
I unfurl

But I am damned
if life itself is condemnation.
I am immortal,
thus my freedom is captivity.

Author's End Note: Well, there's part I for you. I have to say I really enjoyed writing Lucifer here. I love it when he gets all sarcastic with Verchiel to piss him off. Happened quite a few times in the books too as far as I remember. As I explained before, the reason this all takes place in ancient Egypt was because I started to think about the origins of Aaron's name which, of course brought me to the Biblical Aaron. Stay tuned for part II.