Over the nex few days, Malthael made sure that Itherael was resting. He would get bevrages and food for the Archangel, but due to Itherael's lack of sleep, Malthael made sure the younger stayed in bed. Itherael had to admit, he was very tired. Mostly, he slept. Sometimes he would awake to what seemed to be the ambient sounds of Malthael's abode: quills scratching on paper and flames flickering. Sometimes Malthael would grunt in apparent frustration, and very rarley would he talk. Papers being shufled were not rare, either. Sometimes Itherael would see a messanger angel come in and hand a unopened letter to Malthael before scurrying out. Malthael would continue writing with one hand, making the letter levitate with his other and open it with a letter opener that Itherael noticed to be very sharp. Often then would the scroll Malthael had been writing on previous be pushed to the side. He would skim the letter and its contents and then proceed to scrawl a reply out on a fresh piece of parchment in his graceful handwork. Now Itherael awoke to Malthael muttering, all work halted, save for the quill in his left hand. ``No,`` he was huffing, his right hand against his forehead, ``that makes no sense... can't possibly...`` His words were mostly a mumble to Itherael, and he could not make out too many of the words. ``Diablo . . . not the same . . . incomprehensible? . . . Azmodan . . . not the best . . . fallen star . . . El'Druin . . .``
Itherael cocked his head at Malthael's mention of Tyrael's sword, El'Druin. He dare not interrupt the scribe's studies, however. Instead he merly pondered. ``Black Soulstone . . . destroy . . .``
Itherael paused. If only he knew what Malthael was talking about...
``How long have you been up, Itherael?`` Malthael asked softly, unmoving. Itherael blinked. ``Not long... long enough to hear you talking of the Lords of Hell, El'Druin, and the Black Soulstone...``
Malthael nodded, beginning to scribble on the parchment with his hand. ``Yes. I have been predicting, and I can see a large battle of angel, mortalkind and demon...``
His tired, slender form slumped. ``I cannot see who will win but I can forsee a battle... The forces are led in such a way that I have never seen any of the Lords of Hell lead...`` His troubled voice trailed off and he set the quill down, clasping his hands in front of his chest. Shaking his head, he looked off, distant. Itherael then realized just how tired his leader, his friend, was. ``Malthael,`` Itherael said softly. Malthael was snapped from his trance and he swivled his head to look at his friend. ``Yes?`` He asked. ``You need rest,`` Itherael said. Malthael opened his mouth, the tips of his silvery fangs only a little visible. He closed it, however. Itherael may well be right. ``You, I suppose, are correct... perhaps if I rest myself, I will forsee the outcome of this battle.``
Itherael smiled tiredly. At least Malthael would not fight him. ``But-... I'm taking up your entire bed-...``
Malthael shrugged. ``Closeness can be a blessing.``
Itherael paused before scooting over as much as he could, to let the bigger angel into the bed. As he slid into the bed, and pulled the covers over himself, he smiled. Itherael smiled too, and hesitantly cuddled over to Death. Malthael chuckled at this, allowing the tinier angel to rest his head on his chest. Itherael wrapped his arms around Malthael tightly, nuzzling his chest. Malthael purred-a deep rumbling noise in the back of his throat that calmed Itherael immensly. A few heartbeats of silence passed, and Itherael murmured softly, three words: ``I love you.``
Malthael simply chuckled, looking down at Itherael. ``Haven't you always?``
Itherael laughed softly. ``I suppose I have...``
Malthael smiled, and soon enough Itherael drifted to sleep. After a few minutes of Itherael's rest, Malthael mumbled softly, ``However, I do love you too, Itherael.`` And he placed a kiss on the smaller angel's forehead, causing him to smile in his sleep.
Malthael awoke and looked down at the younger Archangel who still cuddled to him. In his slumber, he had turned and wrapped his arms around the other, so it appeared. However Itherael still had his face pressed to Malthael's chest, his soft breath coming in short huffs. It appeared, as well, that Malthael had wrapped his wings around Itherael in his sleep; a sign of affection. Malthael sighed deeply, however, knowing that he would soon need to resume his studies at his desk. The chalice was on the top of it; perhaps wisdom of the battle to come would reside in it. Another kiss was planted on Itherael's face-his nose, to be exact, and an ``I love you`` was issued from Malthael's lips as he stood. He was reluctant, yes, to be leaving the warmth and embrace of the bed and Itherael, but he knew what he must do, for it could well save the Heavens from destruction. He held himself to a stand and slowly turned and lumbered over to the black desk, and moreso, the chalice. Looking down into the swirling contents of the chalice, Malthael pulled the chair from the desk and lowered his tired body down into it. He sunk down, elbows on the desk, shoulders hunched, pondering. This attack he forsaw was quite unlike anything he had ever seen before. Looking out the darkened window, he saw it was nighttime, akin to the ceiling above him. He exhaled a slow, dark sigh. Things were not looking in their favour. Looking out across the cluttered desk, Malthael huffed and pulled a well worn scroll from the piles. He unrolled it and scanned it. Growling, he threw it to the side. ``Nothing.``
Another scroll, another grunt. ``Nothing.``
``Nothing.``
``Still nothing.``
``A load of nothing.``
By now, Malthael was fretting. He tossed another scroll aside. A small pile of scrolls and documents was beginning to form. ``Nothing, still.``
He swivled his head to look at the chalice. ``I don't suppose you will offer me anything, either.``
The chalice remained silent, save for the whispers of voices that drifted from it. Even now, Malthael could not understand what these voices said. He shook his head, purging himself from his thoughts. ``Enough. I will record what I know of, and see where these pieces bring me.``
And he picked a fresh piece of parchment, a quill, dipped it in the mortalkind blood ink and began to write.
Day broke upon the Heavens, and still Malthael had came to no conclusions. As Itherael slept on, Malthael had worked tirlessly, working his tired mind to his limits. He was becoming increasingly frustrated. He, Malthael, the leader of the Angiris Council and the Archangel of Death and Wisdom could not figure out the answer to a simple question. In a fruitless effort to calm himself, Malthael began organizing the piles of papers and boxes to the best of his abilities. However much organazation calmed him, it never seemed to work; within a matter of days it would return to the same crowded, cluttered mess. He never quite understood why. His organization weren't the best, you could say. The paper piles had merly been shoved to the bounds of the desk and the boxes had been moved around slightly. A few papers fluttered off the desk and to the floor as Malthael passed by, a load of boxes in his arms. Huffing, he dumped the boxes in a heap next to a shelf of books and tomes and returned to the papers, picking the parchment up and setting on top of a disorganized pile. As he brushed back by to pick up another set of boxes, the spike that protruded from the elbow of his right arm's armour knocked over a ink bottle. Thank Anu it was empty, he though to himself with a huff as he sat it back upright. Bending, he picked up a stack of particularly heavy boxes. He actually had to use his wings, fluttering them slightly, to assist himself in picking them up. If he'd not done that, he was sure he'd have to see Lady Auriel about a cramped muscle in his arm, or worse yet, his entire back. He moved the boxes, with some ammount of effort involved, to the other side of the room, next to archway and door. The stacks of boxes never were about the room itself, they always were against the walls. On ocassion, however, Malthael would find that a stack had fallen and spilt into a pile in the middle of the floor. He would merly kick these off to the side, back to the walls. Ironic enough, the rest of the Pools of Wisdom were not messy at all. Indeed, they were the oppisite of Malthael's own quarters; they were in a spectacular kind of perfection.
It was enough to draw jealousy from the other Archangels.
They didn't know, save for Itherael, that his study in his private quarters was clutterd. In his own quarters, he kept it very tidy. It was the private part that was messy. Mostly because that was where he kept himself and his thoughts.
Malthael sighed, leaning against the wall of Lady Auriel's study. How long could his brother and Hope sleep for? He knew that Itherael was currently asleep, as he had checked to make sure. If he couldn't rouse his surly brother and Lady Auriel, he would check to see if Tyrael was currently conscious, as he and the Aspect of Justice had much to discuss. However, he had much to discuss with his brother and Lady Auriel. Again, he rapped his knuckles on the door. Again, there was no response. Huffing, Malthael crossed his arms. However, a rustling noise that was much more graceful than Imperius could manage alerted him that Lady Auriel had awoke. After much more of this, the female called to him, ``Come in!`` Her voice was a little tired, but all the same kind as always. Malthael slowly cracked the door, peeking in. Lady Auriel seemed to perk up as she saw him. ``Oh! Malthael!`` She said, and he nodded. ``I apologize if I'm interrupting anything,``Malthael said. Auriel waved him off. ``No, you're fine. Nothing is being interrupted; I've merly been allowing Imperius to rest.``
Malthael nodded. ``I see. I... have things that need to be discussed with you as well as Imperius, however if he is resting I can come back later...``
Auriel shrugged. ``Is it a matter we both need to be alert to discuss?``
``Perferably: yes,`` Malthael responded. ``However I suppose I can make exceptions.``
``Are you sure, Malthael?`` Lady Auriel asked. Malthael nodded. ``It is rather urgent.``
``Then by all means, do come in,`` Auriel said in a hushed voice.
``As off topic as this is,`` Malthael murmured. ``What exactly did you and Imperius do as of last night?``
Auriel giggled. She appreciated Malthael's attempt to lighten the grim mood. ``Oh, nothing.``
Malthael rose a brow, but said nothing. ``Are you sure?``
``Oh, perhaps we did something,`` Auriel chirped, ``but that's for us to know, isn't it?``
``Indeed.``
``You two... did it, didn't you?``
Another giggle. ``Maybe.``
``Hm.``
``So, Malthael...`` Auriel began, returning to her serious demeanor, ``Where, excatly, do you think this attack will take place?``
``Demons have been known for their aerrogance and their confidence in themselves,`` Malthael responded, ``and with how strong these forces are, I believe it... may take place in Heaven, itself.``
``What?`` Auriel stuttered. ``Correct me if I am wrong, Lady Auriel, but have the demons not tried to invade Heaven before?`` Malthael asked.
``Well, y-yes, but...`` Auriel trailed off. Malthael's words made sense to her. ``With how strong these forces I have forseen will be,`` Malthael continued, ``I fear that they may breach the gates of Heaven themselves.``
Auriel sharply inhaled. ``Please, pardon me for asking, but how would they do this? The only Lords of Hell left are Bellial and Azmodan, and neither of them have the power to.``
``I forsaw in my visions a demon. It was shaded into blackness, however, and it was able to badly injure my brother. It then breached the gates.``
Auriel was gravely quiet. ``I see,`` was all she said. Malthael nodded silently and looked at the sleeping form of Imperius. ``I'll have to discuss this further with Itherael,`` he said finally. Auriel nodded, placing a hand on Imperius' arm. Imperius only shifted. Malthael then stood. ``Thank you for your time, Lady Auriel.``
Auriel smiled and curtsied. ``Of course. It was nothing, Malthael.``
Malthael did a half-bow of respect, turning to the door. ``Oh, Malthael-one more thing,`` Auriel called. Malthael turned his head to look at her. ``Yes, Lady Auriel?``
``Could... you give Itherael this letter?`` She asked, holding out a small package. Malthael nodded, holding his talons out. Auriel dropped the package into his hand. ``Thank you, Malthael,`` Auriel said. Again, Malthael did a half-bow. ``There is not a need to thank me, Lady Auriel.``
Auriel nodded, and Malthael turned and left. Auriel looked over at the innocent looking warrior, and managed a smile. But it was weak. ``I promise nothing will happen to you, love,`` she found herself saying.
Itherael found himself back in the Library of Fate. How did he get here? Looking around wildly, he saw that the place was in ruins. The bodies of angels and demonkind littered everywhere he looked. Books lay everywhere, torn. As he began to walk, he came upon angels combating demons. And then he saw Mistress Auriel. Hope was engaged in a fight with someone-Rakanoth, Despair.
Despair swung at her, and essence splattered his bladed arm. Mistress Auriel yelped in pain, retaliating with Al'Maiesh. However, this proved inaffective. Rakanoth swung several times, and when his body cleared, Mistress Auriel was trapped inside of a crystal. She thrashed about, but to no avail. Itherael gasped, lunging forward, his Rune Sword appearing in hand. ``Itherael,`` came a soft, somewhat familliar voice from afar. Then it came louder. He felt someone or something shake him once, then again, then again...
Itherael's eyes burst open as he panted wildly. There was no Mistress Auriel, no Rakanoth, and he was still in Malthael's darkened quarters. Over him stood a concerned Malthael. His hands were firmly on Itherael's shoulders, and his wings draped over his body. ``Itherael? What happened?`` He asked breathlessly. Itherael panted, struggling for words. ``Mistress Auriel . . . Rakanoth . . . Library of Fate . . . in ruins . . .`` Malthael sighed, wrapping his arms around Itherael and hugging him. ``Calm down, Itherael,`` he said in his soft voice. Itherael continued to wheeze, and Malthael pecked the other angel's lips. ``Calm down and tell me everything,`` he instructed. Itherael nodded, though he still had wide eyes and his breath still came in short gasps. Itherael then began to explain his dream to his comrade. Once finished, Malthael nodded silently. ``I see. This is exactly what I have forsaw, but I did not see it to be that... horrid.``
Itherael nodded silently. Malthel sighed, and his tired body drooped. Itherael put a hand on the other's back and pushed him down to lay on top of him. Malthael lay there, on top of Itherael, silent. Itherael was quiet, too, and he could sense Malthael's unrest and even guilt. ``Don't blame this on yourself, please?`` Itherael asked. Malthael shrugged. ``I failed to see that. Lady Auriel may well be in danger thanks to my failures.``
Itherael shook his head and kissed Malthael briefly on the lips. ``No, no. If-if she is in any sort of danger, it wouldn't be your fault. Mistress Auriel may well be a prime target for the demons...``
Malthael huffed. ``I understand that, but think it! I failed to tell her of this. Due to my failure, she won't know of this... I... I have to tell her,`` Malthael decided. Before he could move, however, Itherael locked his gray-clad arms around him. ``No. You need to rest as much as I do. Please Malthael. Stay here... with me...``
Malthael sighed but stopped struggling, instead letting his face fall into a pillow next to Itherael's head. ``I suppose you may be right.`` His voice was muffled as he said this. Itherael nodded. ``Of course I am.`` And he placed a kiss on Malthael's cheek. ``I love you. Even if some won't accept you because you are Death... But I do...``
Malthael smiled. ``I love you too, Itherael...`` His voice was a tired rumble, and soon Malthael had silently fallen asleep on top of Itherael. Itherael smiled at this. Malthael may be practically ageless, but he always seemed older. Of course, he was the oldest angel in existance, but he was always tired nowadays. Only in the rare moments of sleep that he caught did he seem young. Itherael let his own eyes droop closed, and he felt himself fall into a calm sleep, with no troubling dreams.
Itherael awoke not even a human day later. Malthael's slender body was still slumped on top of his own, and this graced a smile on Itherael's face. He turned his head to be pressed against the side of Malthael's face and kissed it, smiling. This graced the slightest bit of a smile on the other's face, though he remained asleep. Itherael then nuzzled his face close to the other, pressing against him. Right now he was happy. To him, there was no Pools of Wisdom, there was no Angiris Council, no Heaven, no Hell, just he and Malthael. He draped his wings around Malthael lovingly. The fire had been able to be rekindled. A time ago, he and Malthael were in a... close relationship. A loving one. They were a couple. But then Malthael left, and as most say, long-distance relationships just didn't work. Eventually Malthael cut connection with them all, even Itherael. But now Malthael was back, and Itherael finally had someone he could love. Another kiss was planted on Malthael's cheek, and another ``I love you`` was whispered to the sleeping angel. Malthael shifed, rolling unconsiously onto his side. Itherael cuddled to Wisdom, resting his head on his broad chest and wrapping his arms and wings around him. In response, and in his slumber, Malthael locked his arms around Itherael's waist and draped his wings over him. Itherael giggled and purred as he did this. As he cuddled the sleeping Archangel, he wondered just how long Malthael could sleep for. He also wondered what sorts of dreams the male was having. Perhaps troubling ones; Itherael was honestly surprised that the stressed angel even had time for love. Gently, Itherael nuzzled Malthael's chest, the calm rumble of his breath and the gradual rise and fall of his chest lulling Itherael into a calm state. A sleeping Malthael was an adorable, harmless Malthael. Itherael found himself purring to Malthael's slow, rumbling breathing. He wished Malthael more times like this, as the man barely ever rested. Itherael began running his hand down Malthael's side, resting his other hand around Malthael's shoulders. Malthael's own arms remained locked around Itherael's waist tightly. A deep purr rose in Malthael's throat instictivly as his side was stroked. In reality, he was quite awake, but he was enjoying the sensation of his side getting rubbed and Itherael's loving cuddles. He kept his breathing even, despite the fact that a... tender, spot lay in the curve where his hips met his ribs. Each time he would bite his lip to restrain a groan, instead. Itherael placed gentle, fleeting kisses on Malthael's chest, trailing them up his neck, and Malthael had to stop himself from shuddering under Itherael's lips, then up to his mouth, and back down. He then began repetitivly kissing different places on Malthael's neck, still running his hands down his side. Malthael was biting his lip quite hard by now, still resisting the urge to shudder. Itherael's touch was just so... gentle. Not to mention that he was kissing Malthael in all the right, or wrong depending on your point of view, places. Itherael, however, did not know that Malthael was awake, and simply whined softly. ``Mmm... I love you, Malthael...`` He murmured. Malthael almost smiled. But he restrained himself. Itherael slowly sunk back into a rest, and Malthael allowed himself a smile.
Lady Auriel found herself at the door of Malthael's study. Gently, she knocked on it. The door almost instantly cracked slightly, and Malthael poked his head out. ``Yes, Lady Auriel?`` he asked softly. Noticing her apparent unease, he opened the door a little wider. ``Please, come in. I apogize for the mess,`` He said. Upon entering, Auriel looked around. Indeed, was the room a mess. Much on the contrary to th rest of the Pools of Wisdom. ``Oh,`` was all she could say. ``Again, I apologize for the mess,`` Malthael murmured. She waved him off. ``Oh, no, it's nothing. I just... didn't expect it, I suppose.``
Malthael chuckled dryly. ``Of course. Anyway, what is it you came to talk to me about, Lady Auriel?``
Auriel paused, glancing at the sleeping Itherael, then back to Malthael. ``I... Tyrael, he-he... He became mortal.``
Surprising to her, Malthael seemed unsurprised, or even concerned. ``I see,`` was all he said.
Auriel cocked her head. ``Are you not surprised?``
``In honesty, no.``
``Oh?`` Auriel asked.
``He and I... planned this.``
``What?``
``Yes. I, as you know, forsaw an attack. He wished to warn humanity, claiming to me that humans were the only hope left. We had a small dispute upon this, however we came upon a desicion: he would become mortal, and warn humankind of this.``
Auriel was silent. ``Oh.``
Malthael only nodded. ``Imperius came to me, brooding,`` Auriel murmured with a chuckle. Malthael laughed wryly. ``I see.``
``Stressed, aren't you?`` Auriel asked. Malthael shrugged. ``I suppose you could say that. However, it is of no concern, Lady Auriel.`` Auriel cast a glance at him. ``It is. If you, our leader, are stressed, it makes us have tension. Relax, Malthael.``
Malthael huffed. ``Why am I hearing that so much lately?``
``Because it's true,`` Auriel responded softly, laying a hand on his arm. ``Relax yourself, Malthael.``
Malthael sighed, slowly relaxing his shoulders that had been quite rigid. ``I may try.``
``Trying is better than refusing,`` said Auriel in her soft, soothing voice. Malthael only shrugged once more.
