A/N: Okay, I want to extend my deepest apologies for that atrocious chapter 20. I cringe just thinking about it. Here, rewritten and revised is a much better one!
Here are the shoutouts because there's no way I'm letting these get deleted! Wolfkid32, 1Corinthians 1313, Applejax XD, PrincessMagic, Kathy, and Muffy31776! Thanks so much for the reviews! Loved reading them, as always. I hope the chapters to come don't disappoint (even this one's predecessor did). Love you guys so much! MWAH!
And the Discord link! (https): / / discord . gg / j3G6PHa Make sure to erase the parentheses and delete the spaces so it's all smooshed together. The channel is Wayward Fam. I'd love to talk to you guys so don't be afraid to join up!
Enjoy!
The gates were closed. The legions of Hell were marching. If any in Heaven had doubted that Lucifer was free, they doubted no longer.
The Morningstar stood before his demonic legions, wings spread in a proud display, blade raised in a challenge as the blood-red sky boiled. The monstrous, tortured souls were few compared to the number of the Host, but they were nothing to scoff at. Eliyon knew that first hand.
"Go," Tamiel told him grimly. "We are spreading throughout the Host. One Grigori to a Flight. Find your brothers."
Eliyon nodded curtly and launched into the sky to find Castiel and Balthazar. The last he'd heard, they were serving under Anna's command. Her fiery red hair was easy to spot in the multitude and he located his friends quickly, landing between them in a rush of wind.
"Look who's decided to join the fun," Balthazar smirked grimly.
"I thought you were remaining with the Grigori," Castiel remarked with a frown.
"We're spreading out among the Flights," Eliyon told them.
"What, don't think we can handle it?" Balthazar scoffed.
"Do you?" Castiel asked him with a raised brow.
Michael strode into the armory, wings arched high, armor gleaming in the bloody light. All of Heaven would bear witness to Lucifer's fall and perhaps, that would put an end to this rebellion.
He froze, wings flaring with wrath.
The lance was gone.
Who would dare?!
He had no time to ponder or investigate the theft and he strode out, the doors thundering closed behind him. Once the battle was over, he would find out who had taken the weapon. Oh, yes, he would find out.
The Host shifted, ready for the battle and nervous at the wait. They all waited for Michael's command. Would he force Lucifer's legions to throw themselves at the gate? Would he open them and force open combat?
Then, Michael strode through them, grace blazing like an inferno, wings open in a challenging display, scars visible.
"Lucifer!" his true voice rang out clear and strong. "I offer you this one chance to surrender. Kneel to Father's will."
Lucifer's laughter was a chilling sound. "Why surrender when I've already won?"
"LONG LIVE THE MORNINGSTAR!" Adimus shouted and plunged his blade into another angel's back. Nakir, his best friend. The angel died, choking on silver grace and all around them, the cry echoed through the ranks and blades gorged on silver life.
"DEFENSE!" Eliyon shouted when the other angels stood frozen in shock, his sword singing as he drew it from its sheath. "BACK TO BACK!"
Castiel and Balthazar immediately turned around and the three of them formed a triangle, not thinking for a moment that one would betray the other.
Michael vaulted into the air and dove for Lucifer, his blade gleaming and grace blazing. He collided with his brother's ice and thunder rolled across Heaven, so much more powerful than it ever had during their arguments. The very foundations of earth seemed to quake.
"Where are your captains?" Lucifer sneered when Michael's blade clashed against his. "Dagon, Asmodeus…"
Michael slammed his boot into his chest, knocking him back and lunging forward to finish him off with a single hit.
Four bodies collided with him, driving him back in clouds of hot, putrid smoke, slicing at his armor, his wings. With a shout, his grace erupted, killing every demon around them, save those four.
"Hello, Michael," Asmodeus drawled as one cloud of smoke swirled and solidified into the form of one of his most powerful warriors.
Then, Dagon appeared, eyes cold as winter. Then, Ramiel, burning hot with hate. Then, Azazel, smirking and confident in their victory.
"You think you've won?" Michael scoffed at Lucifer.
"I know I have," he sneered.
The ground began to shake and ripple and Michael's grace surrounded them in a wall of fire. "Gabriel isn't here to save you, this time."
"And Raphael is just sitting back, waiting to see which of us he'll bend a knee to," Lucifer smirked.
A flash of gold appeared and suddenly, Gabriel was there. He slammed his blade into Asmodeus' shoulder. "I've got these, Michael!" he shouted over the din. "You handle Lucifer!" He took off into the sky, wind churning like a hurricane and the Knights gave chase with screams of rage.
If Lucifer knew that one of his Knights had just been attacked by one of his brother's phantoms, he gave no indication. He beckoned to Michael with a finger. "Come on, then, brother," he smirked, and launched into the air, wings surging and driving him toward the heart of the battle.
Eliyon's blade was almost nothing but flashes of light. Demons littered the ground at his feet and sulfur smoke filled the air, making it difficult to breathe and even harder to see. A glance over both shoulders showed him that Balthazar and Castiel both had similar piles of stinking, putrid bodies around them. During the time he'd been with the Grigori, they had obviously been through equally rigorous training.
Something growled in the smoke and a heavy body slammed into them, breaking their defensive formation apart with a guttural snarl. A hellhound. Sizzling drool dripped from the hellhound's fangs and its red eyes burned with hatred.
"Oh, mind your wings, lads," Balthazar warned. "That's what they'll go for, I'm sure."
"ON THE RIGHT!" Eliyon shouted as two more hounds lunged out of the smoke. Their jaws snapped shut on empty air as the Angels dodged out of the way.
"ELIYON!" Castiel shouted as another hound dove for his friend's back with a roar.
Eliyon spun, blade flashing, and the hound dropped to the ground, throat slit wide open and spewing burning blood. Two more leaped for him and his time with the Grigori served him well. He opened their throats, one after the other, and then drove his blade through the heart of a third.
Two leaped at Castiel and he turned to cut them down, teeth bared in a snarl as one, then the other collapsed without their heads attached. A third dove out of the smoke and he screamed in pain as it sunk fangs into his leg. As he fell, another dove on his back and started ripping through his armor to get to the bases of his wings.
Balthazar was closest and he dove on the hound, hacking it apart while Eliyon killed the one ripping into Castiel's leg. All around them, Angels screamed and fell with shrieks of pain as these new foes charged into their ranks, filling the air with sulfur and silver grace.
Eliyon flared his grace and the five demons that had decided to attack them while Castiel was down evaporated with screams of agony. "We have to get him out of here," he stated, glaring at the battlefield, trying to find a safe place to take Castiel.
Balthazar nodded grimly, pulling Castiel to his feet and supporting him with an arm around his torso. "But where?"
"Something… something is wrong," Castiel gasped as his legs collapsed beneath him. "I can't… hold my…" His blade clattered to the ground, his hand unable to hold the weapon any longer.
Unholy screams split the air and angels fell with shrieks of pain as the demons surrounded and attacked them. Claws and fangs ripped into them. Grace flowed and the air filled with sulfur.
Balthazar pulled Castiel to his feet, supporting him with an arm around his torso, ignoring his cries of pain at the pressure across his wounds.
"Something's…wrong…" Castiel gasped. "I…I can't hold…" He dropped his blade.
Three demons crashed into them, knocking Castiel out of Balthazar's grip. Eliyon spun through them, blade flashing in the blood-red light as he mowed them down without pity. He stood over Castiel, wings flared in a threat.
A legion emerged from the smoke, grinning and drooling, gnashing their fangs in anticipation of the celestial meal they were about to enjoy.
Eliyon assessed them all with narrowed eyes. "Balthazar—"
"We can't fight this many," his friend said, dread and defeat heavy in his tone.
"I can," Eliyon replied with grim confidence. I might not win, but I can fight them, buy some time.
"You're mad!" Balthazar told him, still holding Castiel up and brandishing his blade in a threat that only made the demons laugh.
They stopped advancing, crouching low, preparing to launch themselves onto the three angels.
They were going to die.
"BALTHAZAR, FLY!" Eliyon shouted and years of training ensured his friend followed the order without hesitation, taking flight with Castiel without checking to see if Eliyon was following.
The demons attacked a mere second later, an entire legion against one angel. Eliyon's grace exploded, obliterating every demon in the first and second wave. If he hadn't already been exhausted, he could have wiped out the entire legion. Instead, the third wave converged on him, ripping and tearing at his armor until he was completely exposed to their fangs and claws. He hacked and slashed and stabbed but for each one he killed, three more filled the gap. Finally, they dragged him down, piling on him like wolves on a sheep, ripping him apart even as he desperately hacked at them.
In the chaos of the battle, his screams were just one more sound in the nightmarish cacophony.
A blast of icy grace scythed through them all, cutting them down without effort. Eliyon struggled for breath, coppery grace bubbling between his lips, pouring out of his wounds. He tried to rise and made it onto his hands and knees, body trembling, and collapsed onto his side with his torn wings twisted under and around him like a fallen sparrow. His remaining strength evaporated and his vision faded out, then back in.
Lucifer stood there, looking down at him with an unreadable expression, his blade dripping silver, black smoke and sulfuric vapor wafting off his wings and frost forming around his feet.
He'd saved him.
Why?
Eliyon tried to rise again so he could face the fallen archangel. He tried to just move, but he couldn't and as his vision faded to black, the last thing he saw, was the Morningstar walking away.