A/N: Hello, guys! After my first self-challenge ended so well, I decided to try another one. This time, I'm going to do it a bit differently - I have chosen a table from Inspiring Tables at dreamwidth - an amazing place if you are looking for inspiration - and I'm going to write for a different prompt every day. The focus will be my favorite angel Uriel in a Historical AU. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
The first prompt is Times of War, so I'm giving a warning for (very slight) blood.
Rays of sunlight grazed through the clouds. Like a huge snake, the bloody red light crawled slowly, reaching over the mountains. Uriel had used to like watching the world wake up from its dreams. But today it would sign death, an order to march and destroy. How much easier it would be, he pondered, if he had taken the snake lord's offer. If he had stayed as his personal bodyguard in the castle. Yet no matter how easy, he could not suffer in that glided cage as a personal toy. Luckily, the general took anyone capable in the army, no matter the politics - and no one dared fight him.
Too late to worry about such thoughts anymore. The sun would rise at any moment - a signal to storm the fortress again and break into it. All knights stood proudly in perfect formation, each one looking at the general. He had taken his helmet off and spoke to his soldiers. His long hair, as red as blood, flowed to the saddle. No soldier would wear his hair so long, but General Mephistopheles had always defied common sense.
"My knights!" he roared, his voice powerful enough to tear rocks off a mountain. "This fortress had held us back far too long!" It would be a lie to call the general composed, but now Uriel almost expected him to charge the unbreakable fort alone. "We will fight! We will win! Tonight, princess Gabriel will be our prisoner!"
Prisoner - only he believed those words. Everyone who knew Lord Mastema excepted a mixture between a torture session and public execution. Uriel's sister had information. It held more importance for Mastema than riches.
"No matter where you have come from, you have only one direction! And each of you will reach it! This is our first stop to Eden! We will march in their capital! We will win every fight in the way!" The general smiled, his fiendish fangs showing. "Total, absolute win - we seek only that!"
The knights cheered. The sun rose. Mephistopheles put on his helmet and charged forwards. For the win!
The fires would die down one day. The huge towers of Purgatory - Heaven's strongest border fortress would fall one day. No, Mastema would not let them come to ruin. He was going to hold it in his coil, break it apart and rebuild it. His fortress, in his image, for his plans. Just as the towers stood still, so would the memory.
Uriel looked at his armor, still red with blood. His sister's voice - proud and powerful and helpful - repeated the sentence he would never forget.
"I defend the realm. For me to be taken means the kingdom is taken. If you want me out of this fortress," she had said sitting in the throne, "you have to take my corpse to the Pandemonium."
She had tried to help; she always did. Asking, promising forgiveness, crying regret. Even as the sword had risen above her head, she had not stopped praying. Uriel had swung the sword with such force that it hit the stone floor and rung loudly. To Mastema he would say she had died in the fight. He could have done nothing to save her.
How long time did Uriel have until Mastema saw through the lie and used it as another trump card against the runway prince?