As We Lived

I always watched. I even tried to intervene sometimes. It never really worked as I planned.

Tyrael and Inarius' relationship was far from good. Inarius would not be half as volatile and willing to go to extremes if his brother would say more than angry reprimands to him. And Tyrael could never seem to see from the other angel's point of view.

As good of friends we are, I often found myself compelled to slap the smaller angel across the face. To pick him up and scream some sense into that cold mind of his. But that probably wouldn't work anyway.

I knew in my heart, as I watched and sought for a way to intervene and not make things worse, that no good could come of this. It could only get worse and worse, until...well, one of them will snap. And it will probably be Inarius.

I could never seem to figure out why I was so interested in Tyrael's brother. There was something...different about him, and I found I was to curious about it for my own good. Then again, for some reason, Inarius was rather small for an angeling. I loved tiny angelings.

I often tried to dedicate as much of my time as I could to being the brother Tyrael fails to be. It was surprisingly easy, when the little seraph is not upset by his brother. Inarius was very energetic and eager, but also quiet and polite. It depended on what was going on at the moment. When I trained, with or without others, Inarius always watches, silent but vibrating with exitement. When I was filling out whatever report that needs filling, he was asking many, many questions, but they were sensible, and generally pertain to the report at hand.

Then comes the day for Inarius himself to receive a more mature body, and start his training. Though I would gladly train him myself, I still try to get Tyrael to instruct his little brother. That particular conversation ends with both of us raging at the top of our lungs, and it takes Malthael to separate us. We do not speak for days. At the time, it was very odd how quickly Tyrael got upset. Now, I realize he just didn't think Inarius was ready, and, in his own strange way, was just worried that he would fail his brother.

I had come to find that Inarius was a very capable fighter, even at a young age. He had a shorter, yet sturdy build, shoulders that would one day be nearly as broad as my own, and could kick my helmet clean off my head. His wings were strong, and he was quite fast on the ground.

As Inarius grew and became one of the best fighters I had had the pleasure of training, he began to emotionally change. I suspected Tyrael had something to do with it, as the way Inarius acted was like a cross between myself and him: powerful, passionate, confident, could beat someone and knew it, but also rather cold, calculating, and impossibly calm. It was unnerving.

I knew that Inarius and Tyrael had grown no closer as the former's training went on, but I foolishly believed they had at least reached an understanding. I was wrong.

Inarius was about two thirds through his training. He was somewhat lanky, but still heavy set. In mortal terms, he would have been between eighteen and nineteen. Tyrael was himself, large, powerful, and logical as ever. It made the events both predictable, yet unlikely.

I had no idea how it happened. All I knew was that Inarius and Tyrael were openly screaming at eachother. Auriel was shouting herself, cords whirling about, trying desperately to separate the fighting brothers. Itherael was near her, seemingly entranced by all the shouting. Malthael's wings were spread as wide as they could go, and he vibrated with upset energy.

Stopping the two brothers took all four of us. I myself stood as a barricade between the two, Auriel used her cords as straight jackets, Malthael gripped Inarius' wrists, and Itherael did the same with Tyrael. I don't remember exactly how, but we got the two into separate rooms. Unfortunately, I was in the same room as Tyrael, and ten seconds later, we were heatedly arguing over what had happened, whose fault it had been, and the like. I never wanted to punch someone more in my life. It was a good thing Auriel was there.

Later that day, I was sitting with Malthael on one of Heaven's many balconies. He was mad. I had only seen him mad a few times, and never at another angel. He didn't say anything, naturally, and neither did I. I admit, I was afraid of what was happening.

No one saw Inarius for a few days after that. From what Itherael had said, he broke down and flew off. I can't honestly say I really blamed him.

When next I saw Inarius, he was throwing himself into training with more energy than I had ever seen. We came off the training grounds weary and bruised every day. It seemed to help Inarius though. I guess he had acquired my ability to calm down after a hard battle. A week later and he was back to normal.

That is, until he passed out on top of me. Well, passed out makes it seem like a bad thing happened to him. Really all he did was fall asleep really fast. Though it may not have been the best reaction, I just burst out laughing, and sat down with him sprawled against 's how Tyrael found us when Inarius failed to show up at their home at his usual time. I guess I must have fallen asleep myself at some point, because I remember him waking me up. Inarius slept right through the one-sided (I was still mostly asleep) argument that took place.

We later discovered that Inarius had developed hypersomnia. He would just fall over asleep at the oddest times. I thought it was terribly funny, but Tyrael did not agree. Especially when Inarius became a full grown, battle-ready angel. I realized why Tyrael was so upset about the whole thing; Inarius fell asleep in battle.

It was one of the most ferocious battles in a long time. We were against Azmodan, the Lord of Sin. Despite the amount of bloodshed going on, I just barely noticed Inarius swaying in mid-flight, before dropping out of the sky like a stone. He went missing after that, and no-one saw him for two days. To this day I curse myself for overlooking the possibility.

Things got worse after that. Inarius continuously disapeared, and stopped spending time with any of the archangels. I had noticed several angels, from all different virtues, often idling around him, sometimes conversing with him in hushed tones, some times with other angels. I told myself that they were only his friends. That everything was fine. That I didn't feel pain at the thought of him leaving me behind. That I shouldn't bother about it. Despite a sinking feeling in my core, I did just that - ignored it.

Maybe a month or so later, Tyrael came to me, ranting about Inarius. Something about 'How big of a fool that angel is.' and 'How could he possibly want to leave? We are in war!' Telling myself they had only had another argument, I did my best to shrug it, and the pit that was once only a sinking feeling in my core, off.

Then the Worldstone was gone. Just like that. All we had to go on was that a relatively small group of angels and demons had been skirmishing around the Pandemonium Fortress. And, seemingly with the great stone, Inarius disappeared. So did all the angels involved in the skirmish. The pit in my core was growing into a chasm.

Things got strange after demons seemed just as confused as we about the stone. When we finally realized, that they, for once, were telling the truth...

Malthael was the most affected by the whole ordeal. He would disappear into his abode for weeks on end, and those weeks grew into months, and the months stretched into years.

Tyrael and I were at a low point in our friendship. He knew something, whether it was about the stone or Inarius, and I wanted to know what. But he would not say. I felt the chasm within me grow hot, and begin to fill. By the time we saw Malthael again, three years or so later, it was full. Full of wrath.

I knew it was a problem. I knew I should tell someone. But what I didn't know was what to say. Or rather, how to say it so that they would understand. Once, I would have gone to Malthael, or Tyrael ... actually, had he still been there, I would have gone to Inarius to share this. The rage filled chasm grew.

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The disappearance of the stone seemed so long ago that it was actually shocking when Tyrael brought news of it. Even more so that he brought news of Inarius, on a demon infested place called sanctuary. At first I felt relief. I felt the chasm begin to drain. I felt like everything might be okay. I was setting myself up to fall.

Inarius was mad. I could see it in eyes that once glittered with admiration, understanding, and pleasure that someone had noticed him. Now they stared back with insanity, hatred, and...amusement? Yes, when I looked closer, Inarius was laughing on the inside. Some comment by the demon lord before us was made, and that amusement spilled forward. It was...horrible. I hated it, and silenced him. The chasm began to freeze with dull horror. It was somehow worse than when it was boiling over with rage.

I entered a state of brief denial. That was not Inarius. It couldn't be.

Then Tyrael made that deal. He gave his brother to the demon. I said nothing. Because that was not Inarius; no, that was an insane traitor, who simply looked like Inarius. I knew I was being foolish. But I found I didn't care.

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Tyrael was gone. But only until he came back. Malthael was gone. And he might never come back. Things became more than I could handle. I Couldn't handle myself, and the chasm that had nearly swallowed me whole by now. I was more burning Wrath and frozen Horror than passionate Valor. Deep inside I knew it. But the outside is what everyone saw, and it refused to acknowledge the fact, and was consumed by it.

When Tyrael finally did come back, he did not face my Justice. He faced my Wrath.

When the wreck of a mortal he had become came crawling into Heaven, he faced it again. And I would not try and help him. He did not deserve to speak to Valor.

Diablo was , not killed exactly, for his wretched stone remained in Heaven. But he was defeated nonetheless. And Tyrael thought he could just waltz up to Malthael's place and claim himself as Wisdom. I didn't, and still don't believe a fool can represent Wisdom. Besides, it's not like Malthael was dead. He would return through the arch if he were killed.

Within a week I am sick of Tyrael's mortal presence. At least when he was an angel, I could smack him without having to worry that I would break his neck. Or jaw. Or face. Entire skull with enough force and the right placement. It was so tempting to just end him. It scared me how hard it sometimes was to convince myself not to attack him.

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Somehow I ended up in a conversation with a group of the Nephalem. I tempered my more violent urges. If I ignored the lack of wings, and the odd smell that accompanied them, I found I could be mostly civil with them.

"So we asked around," said a male with a dark hood and long dark hair," and apparently Tyrael has a brother. But he won't say anything about it."

"So we asked around some more," a female with a high pony tail and intricate clothing design took up the mortal's side of the conversation, "And apparently you were the closest one to this...Inarael?"

"Inarius." I rumble automatically. I see the dark-haired male shoot a winning smirk at a large, masculine man who was scowling. The smaller mouthed something at the other, and then laughed. I seem to remember Tyrael or someone saying those two were constantly making bets with each other. Perhaps this was the case? On the name of Inarius? ...mortals.

"Ah, sorry." The woman looks a bit sheepish for a second, "So...can you tell us more about him?" And suddenly she was invading my personal space.

"Qui! Get out of the angel's personal space!" Calls another dark-haired female. She had a hood much like the dark-haired man's.

"Ah, Sorry again!" 'Qui' retreats behind a crouching man whose skin is far darker than all the others.

"Anyway...How about it? Whose this 'Inarius' fellow? He good lookin'?" askes the dark-haired man who now sported a grin. I consider him for a moment, and try to decide what, if anything, I should say about Inarius. It has been a long time since I had thought about him.

"Crow, I don't think angels define 'Good looking' the same way you do." growls the still scowling masculine man . I find myself rather amused by the group. Despite my dislike of the species, they are...interesting in their own way.

That's wonderful Imperius. Your amused and interested by the Nephalem. Why don't you tear out your own wings and join Tyrael on their little mudiball?

"For all the yelling you were doing earlier," says the female called Qui, "you're pretty quiet."

"I am thinking." I snap.

"About Inarius?" She asks excitedly. The other Nephalem zero in on me, now that their original goal had been restated. It's...unnerving. Like Inarius.

I let out a sigh,"Yes, about Tyrael's younger brother. They-"

"Younger!" The masculine man roars in Crow's face. The smaller looks cross, but as if he had been half expecting it. Either way, I am annoyed.

"Yes, younger." I growl, and the large man has the decency to look embarrassed. "They did not have the best relationship though."

The dark haired woman looks intrigued. "Really? What was their relationship then?"

"...Strained." the woman eyes me as if she wants to hear more. I consider my words again.

"Inarius loved Tyrael, simply because they were made of similar resonances and light- they were brothers. Probably still does, the stubborn idiot. Tyrael...I refuse to accept he felt nothing towards his brother, but he did not ever show much more than distaste for Inarius." The Nephalem all stare. Some look disbelieving, and if they think I am lying. My wings burn a bit brighter in annoyance, an angel's version of a glare.

"I have witnessed very few tender moments between them. More often than not, Tyrael was raging mad at something or another Inarius had done. Of course, Inarius never meant for it to be that way."

"...It sounds like Tyrael is the bad guy here." Crow comments. His larger companion nods in agreement.

"Tyrael may be a hero to you now, but back then? He'd have been quicker to put you to death than even me. He was very rigid, strict, and did not appreciate his brother's constant desire for can probably imagine our shock when he chose humanity over his own people. He is still technically labeled a traitor to Heaven for that."

"Why should we believe all that that?" Qui demanded. At the same time, the dark haired woman wondered aloud at Tyrael being a traitor.

"I don't lie. If you refuse to believe me, then go ask Auriel or Itherael. You could even ask Tyrael himself. The only reason Tyrael is allowed to walk around freely is because I bent the law so he would not be thrown in a prison till he dies. Haven't you noticed that one of the council is always supervising him?" I idly wondered if I should tell them that I hadn't just bent the law, I had broken it.

"But, if Tyrael is-er, was-Justice, wouldn't he know that he was becoming a, criminal, by doing what he did?" Crow wondered.

"You'd have to take it up with him, but I suspect he believed he wasn't coming back here." The thought angered me. Tyrael was ready to abandon everything, even though he had to have known he could have gotten out of it. Maybe in a great deal of trouble, but there wasn't much we would do to him. I still considered him my friend, after all. I was uncertain about what he considered me though. That thought replaced the anger with sadness.

"Hey," said the muscular man,"We kinda got off topic here."

"Rehn is correct." The dark-skinned crouching-man spoke up for the first time. Qui nodded in agreement .

"What happened to Inarius? I think I heard Auriel say something about him creating Sanctuary?" Crow looked a bit awestruck as the words left his mouth.

"That is what happened. He left Heaven with a score of angels and demons and you and your world are the result." I found myself snarling the words through clenched denta. The Nephalem looked concerned.

"So..." Qui timidly began," If he created our world...where is he? Tyrael is the only angel I've ever heard of on Sanctuary." The other mortals nodded in agreement.

"Inarius was sent to Hell so that your world would not be torn apart by Heaven and Hell at the time. He is still there." It became hard not to lift my wings and let them radiate heat at the anger those words came with.

"Hell?" Rehn murmured.

"He's still there you say? Why? Surely someone like him would help with the whole, 'Angels and Men' thing." Crow put his voice forward. And I found myself stalling. Why was Inarius still in Hell? It wasn't like he was being used to barter for Sanctuary's safety anymore. Diablo had made that quite clear. And, shoot me for even thinking it, but the mortal had a point. Inarius had been a councilor and adviser for a good part of his life, and given his connections with both factions, he would be a nearly perfect link. Tyrael's being mortal was all well and good, but Inarius was the Father of the Nephalem, and had lived with them for far longer than Tyrael had even known about them.

Which brought up another, admittedly random, thought: Tyrael seemed to be having a difficult time with his crash-course in mortality. There were things he just didn't get, and no-one seemed to be able to adequately explain them. I almost felt bad about it, but he had brought it upon himself. And he was being a fool about it. Inarius had a knack for (bluntly-very bluntly) explaining things like that. It was an ability I sometimes envied him.

"Hey Imperius? Hello? Hellooooooo?" I was snapped out of my musings by the dark-haired woman, and found all the mortals, and some others who had joined the group, eyeing me in concern once more.

"No real reason. Not anymore." I said, still focused on Crow's question. It took the gathered Nephalem a moment to realize what I meant.

"Well, why don't you or Tyrael or someone go get him? Heck, we could go get him if you just point us in the right direction." A man who looked much like Qui spoke up.

"I..." Go get Inarius? The idea...was appealing. Compelling even. And I had no idea why. I stared at the Nephalem, and they stared back.

"...I think you broke him Fen." Qui mutters to the man who gave the suggestion. The mortal, Fen, looks panicked.

"I am not broken!" I snap. I need to stop having those reveries. Qui puts her hands up in surrender.

"If I suggest we go get Inarius again, you not going to faint or something, right?" The mortal has to duck to dodge, not my spear, but the arm of a large woman with fiery red hair. He is not comepletely successful and the swipe knocks his head sideways. I like this woman.

"I have not considered Inarius in some time. But it would be...nice...to speak with him once again." I don't mention that the reason I have not thought of Inarius in so long is because I fear confronting what he was at the end of the Sin Wars again.

The mortals are ecstatic at the statement, and I find myself very confused at the chaos that overtakes them. They scatter after a bit of squabbling, charging off with shouts of "We'll meet back here!" "Okay then!" "I'll get Kormac!" "Grab the other two if you can!" "Should we tell Tyrael?" "Nah. Let's surprise him!" with someone's cry of "But It's his brother!" and "He'll freak the heck out! It'll be awesome!" all mixed together.

I myself take a quick trip to see the other council members, and explain that I need right myself, and will be outside the Heavens to do so. I tell them this may take some time, as a means to explain my upcoming absence. Whether they believe me or not, I don't particularly care, because it doesn't matter-I am not really lying. Inarius had been one of three angels who kept me as Valor and not Wrath. And he was in Hell - well outside of Heaven.

Ten minutes later, I'm once again surrounded by Nephalem. Only this time they resemble a small army, as opposed to a gaggle of featherless geese.

"Well? Let's go!" Shouts Qui.

And the chasm that was once frozen in horror and hot with wrath, seems to finally begin to close. It will be good to see Inarius again.

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