Author's Note: So second chapter is out. Pretty much had this done last week but been too busy to post it. For those that read the first chapter and saw all the the bad grammatical mistakes, formatting issues, etc. that is what happens when you try to publish using the app, so I decided the do it through my computer rather than having to redo everything once it was posted anyways. This and Salvare are my top priorities and Star Shooter third. To Love a Vanadis' next chapter is almost done, and has been sitting tight for over a year, so I might need to refresh myself on the series, but the entire story will be done before year's end.
How could one even begin to describe the moment that her Father had accepted her back?
Her selfless Lord, the God who practiced agape.
The Lord whose commandments she had disobeyed and broken, yet he had never lost faith in her. Now when she called for Salvation, for help for her son he was waiting for her, arms open and welcoming.
Though she had hurt him with her betrayal he forgave her, joyous at reuniting with his wayward daughter.
Slowly, almost disbelievingly, she stepped closer, embracing him and the Light that he represented. Even as the Light burned her, the blood in her veins akin to magma, the tears she shed were not of pain but happiness.
"Father." She whispered, the single word holding so much emotion. He drew her closer into his embrace, uncaring about the tears that stained him pristine robes. "Forgive me." Being this close to him reminded her of all the times, millennia past that she served at his side. Those were simpler times, blissful flights through the skies of Heaven, laughter and relaxation in the Gardens, Penemue, Sariel, Gabriel and her lounging under the shade of the trees, a welcome reprieve from their duties. Even among the Angels she was feared, and the companionship of her Sisters was something that she had treasured.
No other words needed to be said before she stepped back and wiped the tears from her eyes, and then with a tone born from millennia of duty, of seeing the greatest and worst of humanity she spoke. "What would you have your Arbiter do?"
In that quaint little home, trashed from the deadly exchange of spell fire, where once she lay in a pool of blood, weak and broken, she was now strong. Gone were her dragonhide robes she was now clad in rich cream-colored robes and her old armor. Divinely wrought greaves of finest silver, vambraces inscribed with litanies of hate and fury, of warning and woe to any who ignored them, a breastplate trimmed in gold with a raised cross and lastly a Corinthian helm with brilliant white plumage. Her armor was not forged by any mundane means, nor wrought by the hands of any pagan god-smith, but rather had been willed into existence by her Father and imbued with his very essence. Devil and demon trembled at the sight of her, the proud humbled, the defiant brought to their knees and the unbroken shattered before the cleansing light of Heaven's Seraph. The very power imbued into her armor the reason no seraph had ever fallen in battle, why the earth trembled at their terrible voice and only they accompanied Father every time he entered battle.
However, it was not just her armor but her wings that she took as proof of her Father's forgiveness. An angel's power was determined by the number of wings that they bore, 2 was weaker than 4, who was weaker than 6 and so forth. From her back 12 wings of shining silver burst forth, the pinions sharp and deadly as cold, harsh, light burned away any lingering darkness. Her eyes once clearest green now alight with emerald fires as her long red hair whipped around like a crown of fire.
To those who saw now even as her true form was somewhat muted by being encased in flesh, the only way to describe her would be wrath incarnate. She was no angel of mercy, rather a soldier nay a general. War, vengeance, and justice were her domains, and while Michael may have led the Armies of Heaven and been God's Strongest soldier, it was she who sat in judgment of all souls, damning and forgiving in accordance to your sins.
It was over in an instant as her caligae touched the paving stones, the light she was emitting dying down to a small glow as she strode into the house, for she was unable to call it a home. Negligently, she flicked her fingers, calling forth power that once would've turned her body to ash to seal them in a pocket dimension, and with a snap of her fingers she began to overpower the runic arrays that the house sat on. Very soon the entire pocket dimension would resemble nothing more than the burning fields of hell, but until then she had plenty of time.
Strolling through the house, she found her hand to be clenching and unclenching as power she hadn't felt in millennia began coursing its way through familiar pathways once more. When she got to the stairs she took a moment to appreciate the damage her golem had done, just imagining the look on the Dark Lord's face when it had dragged him to the basement brought a smile to her face, as she peered into the hole and to look at the mangled remains of her creation. In the center of its chest she could make out the runes that served to repair it should it be damaged, slowly pieces of debris around it were being transmuted into steel, and then into parts to fix broken sections of its armor. Idly she wondered if she had overdone it during the creation process as it slowly stood before her at attention. With a dismissive nod it shrank itself down to the size of an action figure and flew into one of the many pouches on her belt.
Banishing that thought she easily jumped over the hole and up the stairs entirely, to land on the second floor. With a flap of her wings gale force winds blew the door off its hinges. She wasn't worried about harming her son as his crib had protections on it, but for the Dark Lord and James they were blown into the opposing wall, pinned there by her telekinetic power. A snap of her fingers and the wand of the Dark Lord was reduced to ash.
Spreading her wings to their full glory, her light blazing and burning the area around her she walked towards the two men. "You claimed I was of the Darkness." She stated, looking at Voldemort. "I was there when it was pushed back."
Turning to James, "You claimed I was of the Light. What foolishness to compare the tiny spark of Dumbledore, your so-called Leader of the Light, to the all-encompassing holocaust that is my Father's Divinity.
"I am neither Light, nor Dark, such mundane concepts fail to even touch upon the scope of my being. I am a sinner, redeemed and forgiven, elevated, and empowered by her Father's will. The bulwark against which Devils and Fallen break. I fight now not out of pride." In her hands a silver arming sword appeared the blade covered in angelic script, enochian. "Not in the name of Heaven, nor the Grigori." Her eyes burned with conviction that pierced the very souls of the men before her, cold fingers pulling at their very being as they looked away from the being that was in front of them. "From this moment until eternity's end I fight for my son, for my Father's Love which I do not deserve!"
Swinging her sword, she called to the Dark Lord. "Can you hear them?" she asked reveling in the fear that was beginning to take hold in her foe as the room began to fill with the howling of the winds. She laughed at his feeble attempts to break her hold over him, and every time he failed she was reminded of the stark differences between her previous form and the one now infused with Holy Light. Voldemort for all his arrogance, delusions of grandeur, power, and soul splitting atrocities with still human, a mortal. A powerful wizard but a child when compared to the power of the Divine. "They're calling for you Thomas Marvolo Riddle."
If you strained your ears you could heard their voices on the wind.
"Murderer."
"Defiler."
"Kinslayer."
"Hypocrite."
These and a thousand other insults bit into the Dark Lord. "You fancy yourself immortal, thinking that with your soul jars you've conquered Death, but let me tell you Death does not like being cheated, and Azrael has a very special spot for those that think to cheat her. I've seen her break beings infinitely stronger then you, once in her tender mercies you'll be begging for her sweet release, but you'll learn that she is a cruel and merciless angel, one who revels in her duties." At her side wisps began to take form, men and women, young and old, husbands, sons, mothers and daughters, their hands outstretched as if wishing to throttle the neck of their killer.
"Do you know how many you've killed?" She could see the disbelief in his eyes, the questioning look. "24,601, souls sent to judgment because of your spells and experiments, of course this is not by your hand alone but the combined actions of your entire group." There was pride in those eyes, she thought, not for the first time realizing the depths that the man before her had delved into. "Know that only eternal pain awaits you, for all who sin under the law shall be judged by the law and to those that sin yet do not know the Lord's commandment, ignorance is no excuse, guilt weighs down on them like an anchor to a ship, which further goes to prove that there is no such thing as innocence."
Raising her hand, she aimed her palm at the Voldemort. "Thomas Marvolo Riddle, you have been judged." Her eyes began to glow as unearthly power on a scale not seen for millennia coursed through her. "You have been weighed." Her voice carried the hope of salvation and the threat of damnation, it was a divine voice that commanded attention. "You have been measured." The Holy Light began to flow into her palm as the Dark Lord's struggles intensified as his coming end dawned on him. "And you have been found wanting, for all have sinned and fall short of the Glory of my Father. For your crimes there can be only one punishment."
Holy Light burst forth from her palm, searing the target of her ire. "I sentence your fragmented soul to oblivion, to know pain and agony eternal." The Dark Lord screamed as his splintered soul was peeled back layer by layer until it was completely erased.
Moving to the remains she absently nudged them with her boot. "Well at least he had the common decency to not make a mess on his way out, unlike some people." She said shooting a glare at James who was barely holding in his bile at the havoc his wife had wrought. The death of a soul, the howling of winds as every sin ever committed was tallied and accounted for determining you lot in the afterlife. He had never been religious after all most religions had a strict burn the witch first ask questions never policy, but seeing it, feeling the hell that awaited and that there were consequences to his actions was mind breaking. A human mind wasn't meant to process what just happened so like a computer it crashed. Eyes rolling up he slumped against the wall. Lily looked at him for a moment before shrugging and snapping her fingers banishing him from the house and teleporting him to Hogwarts Lake, else he would never be able to escape the heavenly equivalent of a nuke going off shortly.
With that done she stepped to her son's crib smiling at his giggling form as he reached up to try and play with her wings. Shifting him in her arms she easily plucked one of her pinions from her wing and laid it atop him. Clasping her feather, nibbling on the soft silver emerald eyes met emerald as warmth flooded her chest. "My precious son. Let's go home." Stretching her wings, she blew the roof off the house and took off, might wings beating like thunder as she soared higher and higher.