Sophia's Chronicles
Chapter 7: The Addiction
Phase One
Michael had insisted that Lucifer remain under my care and really, it hadn't been long enough after the fight for him to be obligated to return to work. I remembered a time not long ago when Lucifer and Michael led a war against the Leviathans on earth. Things had gotten so bad to the point that war was the only option left. Raphael had gone with them as a field medic and most angels had been enlisted to follow them. Since Gabriel was still a child, he and I remained home, where I would oversee the administrative matters and watch over him. Heaven had felt so empty then, half its atmosphere stolen by the stunning lack of its residents. My own heart ached without Lucifer there and that was when I truly realised how much I loved having him around. Years I spent longing for their return, without being able to take so much as a peek at earth because it was too dangerous to leave Heaven.
It had been such a joyous moment when the troops returned. I'd made sure the citadel was decorated as pompously as possible to give them the best welcome. I was overcome with so much excitement that I couldn't contain myself and excused myself to reflect fully on how much it had hurt for me to have been so alone. An uncontrolled smile reached my lips as I remembered how Lucifer and I had found each other that day. He'd disappeared to his private residence that was in a location similarly isolated to my house – it was where he would go when he really needed the personal space and where his most precious weapons and items were stored safely. He didn't notice me entering as he took off his battle-worn armour in the bedroom. The only noise was the sound of each clasp being undone as the metal plates came off. My heart pounded in my chest, threatening to burst out of its seat. As slick as a tree snake, I curved my hands around his torso. As soon as he felt my touch, he grabbed my hand and flipped me onto the bed, pinning me down like I'd come to attack him.
Our eyes widened as we stared at each other, both of us attempting recognition. He recognised me as his ever-patient lover who definitely wasn't there to hurt him, and I'd come to recognise him as the same Lucifer he always was under a new look with a scruffy, trimmed beard. The only true mark of our identities was the distinct colouration of our eyes, which reassured us before any rational thought. What happened after, however… that's private.
There's a reason I began bringing this up. We'd spent so long in each other's company to catch up on time lost, all with Michael's permission. The eldest always allowed Lucifer to slack off from time to time, offering to take care of things until Lucifer wished to return. It had always been that Michael enjoyed his work more than the rest of us and he certainly didn't mind when his little brother wanted some R&R. So it really wasn't like Lucifer needed to return to work after we trapped The Darkness. But he insisted anyway.
He was back at Imperium and there was nothing I could do to stop him and confine him to my house. Having talked with Michael about it, we decided it would be okay so long as we were both taking turns to keep an eye him. And so it began.
"I'm sorry, did you just say that Lucifer got attacked by a Leviathan?" I asked of Michael, standing before him in his office. "How?"
"That's what he told me," Michael had a neutral expression which I suspected he used to avoid looking lost.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times, not sure which of my questions should be the first. Michael patiently nodded as I tried to get my thoughts together. "I… we… I left him here yesterday," I stammered. "How did he end up in the badlands? On earth?"
"These are all great questions," Michael simply said, hands clasped on his desk. "When I found him, he was covered from head to toe in grime and innards and he only spoke one word: Leviathan."
I gaped, unsure of what to make of this revelation. My mind was faced with an uncomfortable barrier which could not reconcile what I knew of Lucifer and what I was hearing. I craved some kind of explanation that made it clearer to me because I could not handle this feeling of dissonance.
"And Sophie," Michael snapped me out of my thoughts. "He seemed… oddly calm. I've never seen him so quiet before. Especially after showing up in such improper decorum."
"It's probably nothing," I said as if I believed it. At least I thought I did. His irises eased in relief. "So he didn't tell you what happened or how he ended up there?"
"All he said was that he was jumped by a Leviathan and had no choice but to use his hands in the absence of his weapons," he explained, eyes roving over the table as he recalled the encounter. "And then he went off to get cleaned up, I presume."
"Hm. That's… strange. Lucifer never goes anywhere without his sword or at least a knife," I pondered.
"That's what I thought too," Michael agreed. "Could you talk to him? Find out what's happened."
"Yes, of course," I assented.
"It seems he prefers confiding in you," he posited, in a somewhat uneasy manner. I paused my thought, now taken by the little shift in his voice. I wondered if there was something on his mind. He fidgeted with a paperweight as if channelling some unknowable mystery into it.
"How are you, Michael?" I enquired. "Are you doing alright? After the fight and everything?"
"Yes, I'm good," he replied monotonously. "I'm relieved that The Darkness has been defeated and that all of you are finally safe."
It sounded more like a textbook answer that a cherub would read to commit information to memory. "Michael… I never got to ask you…" I began hesitantly. I was treading on thin ice and I didn't want to say anything to upset him. But I really needed to know, for the sake of a clear conscience. "I hope God's decision to fight Amara instead of… binding us through marriage didn't upset you."
He stopped what he was doing and pierced me with a gleaming silver gaze. It bore through me with a thousand untold emotions that he was so good at hiding behind a thick, fortified wall in his mind. His lips curved up on one side as he shook his head disinterestedly. "No, don't worry about it," he answered with a serene air about him. "Really," he took my hand in both of his. "I mean it." Why didn't I believe him? "It is my firm belief that Father knows best about all matters. And nothing would please me more than enacting what He thought was best. Wouldn't you feel the same?"
"Certainly," I replied. My mind seemed to grow heavier by the day. "You're right. It is only in His power to bind us in a sacred matrimony, and His power to deem it necessary or not."
"I'm glad we're on the same page," Michael admitted. We exchanged smiles that were too formal to mean anything.
Mind full of words that never decided whose side they were on, I took my leave. Just as I entered the hallway connecting the archangels' offices, I saw a door slightly ajar at the end of the hallway. Lucifer's door. My fingers took chances with the door, nudging it open slowly such that it made almost no noise as I peered inside. I saw his bare back. He was wearing his casual garment – a pair of loose pants with a robe that went around his waist once and was to be flung over the left shoulder. It appeared dark with white and mud-green specks here and there. And that was something to behold, considering the garment was supposed to be a silky white. Things must have gotten really dirty with the Leviathan. His skin was not spared either. He appeared to be wiping himself with a hand towel.
"That is not going to suffice, you know," I pointed out. He turned around in the middle of wiping his cheeks. The towel was pulled away to reveal a dark, tar stain yet his face remained smeared. I sighed.
"A real mess, I know," Lucifer cringed. "I'm sure you're wondering how this happened-"
"Leviathan, Michael told me," I informed him. "What I want to know is why you were on earth, when you were supposed to be here."
"And I want to tell you," he promised. He approached and I tensed, getting somewhat uneasy at the thought of having bits of those abominable Leviathans in our sacred home. "There is an explanation to all of this."
He reached out a hand to rest on my upper arm and I shrank away. "Let's get you…" I gestured towards him. "… cleaned up first."
Lucifer smirked, unseemly of the moment. "Are you going to help?" he asked excitedly.
I managed a pained nod. "Someone has to," I admitted, trying my best not to think of what pieces of dead Leviathan were where. I found a clean spot at the crook of his thumb that I held onto with two fingers as I led him out of the citadel. I found us a nice hot spring far away from Imperium, only stopping over at my house to raid for every single towel I could find. I dreaded the task of scrubbing till my own hands turned black from Leviathan juice but it had to be done. As expected, Lucifer had a silly, goofy grin on his face as he saw me get to work. He stood in the steaming hot spring, with water reaching his chest-level, while I sat on the edge with only my shins immersed in the water. "Wipe that damned smile off your face, Morningstar," I grumbled as I soaked the first of many towels in the water.
"Lighten up, would you?" he urged, resting his hands on the ground next to my thighs. "I know I need to."
I wrung the towel over his head, letting the water generously trickle down his hair and face. His eyes shut tightly and he shook his head once to get off the excess water. That was one way to shut him up – the list grew longer every day. I started with his face, scrubbing the towel against a single spot on his cheek until I finally saw his skin again. At some point when I began really getting into the daunting task, his face moved closer to mine, seeking my lips. Again, I shrunk away. "Lucifer!"
"What? Get dirty with me, Sophie," he begged like a child. "We can clean each other up later." When he saw that I wasn't relenting, he changed tactic. "Well, my tongue is clean…"
I snarled at him before he could dig into my neck. "Then you can use it to lick yourself clean!" I snapped without meaning to. My hand froze mid-air with the towel. "Sorry."
His smile faded and he sighed. No… why did I do that? I shouldn't have. "I know this is all confusing," he began. "But I assure you, this is not worth worrying about."
"Not worth-? Lucifer, you left home without telling Michael or me," I said sharply, continuing on his face.
"What, do I have to? I am not a child," he defiantly argued while pressing my towelled hand to his face to pause my movement. "I don't need anyone's permission to go anywhere I please."
"You're right, you don't. But that thing on your arm is doing God-knows-what to you and until we figure out what exactly is going on, I'm going to need you to work with us. We just want to make sure you're alright," I explained to him, now working on his neck and shoulders.
"I'm fine!" he insisted. "What happened at the orchard was probably just a one-time thing, okay? Just Amara knocking on the door and letting me know that She's there. Now I'll ignore Her, like I have been for billions of years now." I kept an eyebrow raised, still not fully at ease, as I discarded the first towel for another. "Interesting, though, that you mention God. It's why I was there."
"God summoned you to earth?" I inferred.
"Uh, not really," he rubbed the back of his head with a hand. He pulled his hand away and there was more grime so naturally, I turned him around to work on his back too. "I went looking for Him, because that's where He usually is, right? In Eden?"
"You're not supposed to intrude when He's working," I reminded him. "Unless He calls for you."
"Screw that," he spat out, huffing sardonically. Again, my hand paused. He turned around, wondering why, only to see my dazed expression. "What? Don't look at me like that. I needed answers."
"You worry me sometimes, you know. With the way that you are," I expressed concern. "Being like this with us? It's fine. But He's your father. You ought to show some respect."
"Of course I respect him," he defended. His expression contorted like it was ridiculous that I would claim such a thing. "But what kind of respect would it be if I couldn't ask Him questions? Isn't it a sign that I respect His opinions when I ask about them?"
"I am not denying that. Even I ask Him many questions. He's always been more than welcoming of questions," I rebutted. "All I'm saying is that, there is a proper etiquette for these sorts of things. Pray to Him and He will hear you. He will answer you at His own time. Who knows how busy He is?"
"Answer me at His own time," he repeated mockingly. "Code for 'you'll never hear anything ever'."
"Lucifer," I stopped him again in an attempt to make him see reason. "Have some faith, darling."
"This isn't about faith, love," his voice grew softer. That was how I knew he was being serious. "I just… I really needed to see Him. It couldn't wait. It's about the Mark. And before you say it, I know I'm making it sound more serious than it actually is but it really isn't."
I tilted my head in confusion. "You say that you're fine and this is nothing to worry about… yet you seek God because you absolutely have to understand what's happening to you." I threw my hands up. "Are you not seeing this?"
"But I mean it," his puppy-like eyes pleaded me to accept what he was saying. "I don't want you to worry about it."
I scoffed. "If there is something to worry about, I want to worry about it!" I couldn't believe I had to lay any of this out. "You shouldn't have to deal with this alone. And you want to know what would actually worry any of us? You… pretending that everything's okay when it's not!"
He gaped, stunned to silence. "Alright…" he trailed off.
"Now, at which point did the Leviathan attack you?" I remembered to ask. It had almost slipped my mind but the stark black goo on the towels brought me back to the matter at hand.
"Okay, so, about that," he stammered. "I lied to Michael."
"This just gets better and better, doesn't it?" I remarked dryly.
"Hear me out, okay? You're the only person who I can be honest with," he pleaded. "So I went to find Father in Eden. He wasn't there. I called out again and again. Even got on my knees to pray. So naturally, I was… upset. More than upset, actually…" he looked away, caught in a daze as if the events were unfurling right before his eyes. "I don't know why, but I felt so frustrated. And I just needed to…" he held his clenched fists up and mimicked a punching move. "… hit something."
I wanted to say something but I stopped myself. He said that he wanted to be honest with me so that bound me to listen without judgment until he was done.
"But every time I thought I found something or thought of something to strike, I just couldn't. I didn't want to hurt that poor jungle cat, or some tree…" my shoulders eased temporarily. "Then I thought, 'what deserves to get hit?'"
"And the first answer that came to mind was Leviathan?"
"Exactly," he nodded. "I found one of those slimy bastards and did his head in with my bare hands. I felt a lot better."
I tried to suppress a reflexive shudder. "You… incited violence on a living creature?" I pressed.
"I'm not proud of it," he confessed. "I know I shouldn't be. But in that moment… it felt so good, Sophie."
"I can't endorse this course of action," I honestly said despite being unsettled. "Hurting other people is not a solution to whatever you're experiencing."
"I know. I don't expect you to," he neared me. The guilt in his eyes was evidence enough to me that there was hope for things to get better.
"One question," I interjected. "Why didn't you have a sword with you? Why did you go down there unarmed?"
"That's two, by the way," he pointed out. "Don't freak out, but I… may have anticipated this."
"Anticipated what?" I dared ask, unsure if I wanted the answer.
"That I would need to… relieve my stress."
I blinked a few times. "You planned this," I realised. "You wanted to maim something in the most brutal way you could."
"Hey, no. That's not it," he denied. "I just wanted to challenge myself. What kind of a fighter would I be if I couldn't handle myself without my weapons?"
My lips pursed in thought. "You could have gotten hurt," I thought out loud. "Leviathans are formidable opponents. And you've chosen to provoke one of them for your own frustrations."
"Again, I understand that it sounds bad-"
"It is bad," I confirmed.
"Anyway, it's just a Leviathan. No one's mourning him," Lucifer tried to convince me. I didn't like how any of this sounded at all. I stared at the towel I held between my hands on my lap. My body felt so tight all of a sudden. I only wished for a break.
"I suppose you're right," I acceded. "I couldn't worry about the universe having one less Leviathan." That's when I noticed his hands. They were rested against my waist. His grip slowly tightened. I sought some explanation in his face and saw his eyes twinkling playfully. Realising what was about to happen, my eyes widened. "Lucifer, no, don't-"
With a swift yank, he pulled me into the water with him. His maniacal laughter was all I heard as I reeled from the shock of having the hot water submerging most of my body. My dress grew heavier with the weight of water it was absorbing, feeling almost like an anchor holding me down in the spring. "Hey," that seductive voice again. "You want to know what else is clean?"
He suggestively raised his eyebrows. Unbelievable. At least this was confirmation that he was normal. "What, you think I'm going to reward you for your unacceptable behaviour?" I questioned, reciprocating maybe a little of that infectious mischief.
"Oh no, it's actually a punishment," he proclaimed with faux seriousness. I frowned, expecting an explanation. "You'll be showing me the ecstasy that I'll be deprived of if I ever did something like this again."
"Did God accidentally fry your mind when He forged you out of Light? How do you ever think of these things?" I half-snickered.
"The sight of you is just so inspiring," he grinned. "I wasn't a poet until you came along."
The days passed as soon as they arrived. The thought often returned to me of the dead Leviathan. In the beginning, I kept telling myself that it wasn't of import; that it didn't matter that Lucifer had felt so angry he'd gotten violent. He was typically a peaceful guy – we were all peaceful, using violence only when it was absolutely necessary and called for – so this incident was an anomaly in the web of threads that was his life. But more anomalies began popping up.
There was the time he and Gabriel were sparring in the private training yards reserved for the archangels out of anyone's sights. I wasn't there, but I was told that his fighting grew more… aggressive. That alone would not have been a problem. Sparring had rules which ensured that we'd improve our capabilities while minimising injury. Michael informed me that Lucifer was seriously pushing the rules, not accepting a yield and continuing to play the offense with his little brother. When questioned about it, he simply said that he was challenging Gabriel to react to tough situations. If Gabe hadn't reacted in time, he could have gotten seriously hurt, as was what Michael said.
Again, my love for him bid me to think that this was a one-time thing. Being someone who valued truth, I decided to test the theory. I took up a practice sword and sparred with him myself. I didn't find anything strange. In fact, he had more words of advice for me than usual. I found myself wondering why I didn't train more often. If anything, I berated him for being so harsh on Gabe and he apologised to his little brother. All would be well after, right? No.
It all came back to that Leviathan. Something in him had changed that day. Like some kind of barrier had been breached. He seemed like himself, yet not so at the same time. I grew wary, remaining as open-minded as possible, though Michael wasn't so accommodating. I hoped – and prayed – that this would all change soon and the two brothers would go back to being brothers but I couldn't have known how ambitious I was being.
Phase Two
Michael was evidently cross. I fiddled my thumbs as I anticipated the exchange. The five of us stood in the conference room. We'd rushed in so quickly to speak in private that we weren't even bothering to sit down. "What were you thinking?" Michael demanded to know.
"I was thinking we needed answers," Lucifer replied, emphasising each word. "And he was stalling."
"You killed him!" Michael shouted back. "Did you think he was going to talk with a knife in his chest? Or without his head?"
"He needed to know that the threat was real," Lucifer reasoned, equally annoyed with his brother. The rest of us just watched in plain bewilderment. The moments zoomed by so quickly it was hard to know how to react. "These Leviathans don't fear us anymore because they think we're not willing to do what's necessary."
"This is not our way!" Michael snapped. "This isn't the honour that Father always bid us to have."
"If Father had such a big problem with it, where is He now?" Lucifer snarled. "If the lives of these Leviathans really mattered to Him, I'd think He'd be more vocal about it."
"How dare you!" Michael spat out bitterly. "How dare you say such a thing!"
"Oh I dare," Lucifer challenged. Things had escalated so quickly. I was at a loss for words. Gabriel had that look in his eyes again. He was as tired of this as I was. I remembered our promise.
"Father is not beholden to answer to you, Lucifer," Michael admonished.
"Isn't He? He just stuck us in this universe, expecting us to clean up the mess He made with the Leviathans and you just go along with it like there's nothing wrong?" Lucifer shot back. "The least He could do is guide us in some way. Show His face for once and take responsibility."
"You speak of taking responsibility, brother?" Michael questioned fiercely. "After denying your clear violation of our code? We do not kill our prisoners during interrogation, let alone torture them, and you've done both to at least three of them!"
"Maybe the code is holding us back!" Lucifer said viciously. "It's why our enemies are getting ahead of us."
Michael was about to say something in return, but Gabriel intervened. "Alright, that's enough. The both of you," he calmly interjected. The shouting ceased, but the furious eye contact did not.
"Something is wrong with you," Michael stated plainly. "You're not thinking clearly."
"So I'm insane for having a different opinion from you?" Lucifer rebutted accusatively.
"It's your opinion that's insane," Raphael snidely asserted from beside him. He'd been watching this conversation with an unamused calm, like he was just waiting for the ball to drop. "But if the shoe fits…"
"What did you say to me?" Lucifer snapped at him. His body angled towards Raph, arm tensing as he grabbed his brother by his collar and shoved him back against the wall. Oh no. This time it was my turn to intervene. Before his other hand could be drawn backwards, I lunged forward and grabbed his arm. As much I've wished for Raphael to get hurt in some way, this was neither the time nor the place for such a thing.
"Get away from him!" I ordered as I tugged on his bicep. The seconds grew short. The moment passed by me in a hurry. It was probably a reflexive action for him. As soon as Lucifer felt his arm being hindered, he jerked it backwards to get free. But that also meant I was in the way. I let out an audible grunt as his hand struck me and sent me stumbling backwards.
I froze in my place, hand pressed to my cheek. I couldn't say anything for shock had left me speechless.
"Sophie!" Gabe rushed over to check on me. His thumb caressed my cheek where it stung. Michael followed suit, both of them comforting me as they inspected where I'd been struck. I wish I could have told them I was fine but even I could not deny the hurt I felt. My eyes dared stray to look at Lucifer, who had nothing but utter remorse written all over his face. His chest heaved with heavy breaths. His fingers twitched for a moment before he made towards me, meaning to confront what he had done himself.
But Michael stood in his way defiantly. "Haven't you done enough damage in one day already?" he sternly criticised. Gabe's arms tightened around my shoulders as if to protect me from his own older brother.
Lucifer's eyes flickered between his brothers and me, contorting with pain. I knew he didn't mean it. I could tell he wanted to ask forgiveness. He probably didn't know what he was doing. Stuff like that made us do things we couldn't control. Except in Lucifer's case, it seemed to be happening all too often. I only got a glimpse before Lucifer stormed off, but I could have sworn that the Mark on his arm flashed a brief warning. You would ruin my life even from an inescapable realm, Mother? I thought. As I followed the sight of Lucifer's back vanishing beyond the door, I found Raphael staring at me, still at his position where Lucifer had pushed him against the wall. His bronze irises seemed to accuse me of causing this. Even when I'd stopped Lucifer from attacking him, it seemed his cynicism always found a target in me.
"Is that what you call 'handling it'?" he derided.
"Don't you start, Raph," Gabe warned.
"Just putting it out there," he raised his arms in surrender, before taking leave himself.
"I'm alright," I reassured the two of them.
"How could he do this? I don't understand," Michael worried.
"This isn't him, Mike. It's the Mark," I explained. "Go easy on him."
"Easy? He hurt you, Sophie," Michael frowned. "This is inexcusable. I might have to beat some sense into him."
"Don't," I pleaded, grabbing his arm. "Please. Just… just give him a chance. I'll talk to him."
He hesitated. He fidgeted uncomfortably, shoulders weighing with the burden of what happened. "Fine," he relented. "He'd better apologise to you."
"He will." When it was just Gabriel and me left, I couldn't help but dig my head into his shoulder and weep. Gabe said nothing. He just held me as I shed my heart in tears.
When I found Lucifer again, my cheeks were dry. He was waiting for me at my house. I passed by him silently into the study, setting things down on my table. Guilt was just radiating from him in waves. A strong need to hold him shook my veins, but a conversation was necessary first.
"Sophie, I'm sorry," his voice quavered. I had my back to him. My palms pressed down on the table, holding onto it like I would tumble without this firm foundation.
I released a shaky breath. "I know," I said slowly.
"I never meant to- I shouldn't have hit you," he stammered. I felt his coldness approaching as he stepped closer. "It was Raphael I meant to-"
"Your brothers would not forgive you as easily as I," I cut him off, turning around to face him. "It's better this way."
"No," he shook his head. "Don't say that."
His finger paused in front my cheek, asking for permission. "It's nothing," I insisted in vain.
He turned my head slowly to inspect the damage. I heard a regretful exhale. "I don't deserve your forgiveness," he sighed. I felt him healing me. The pain faded away soon enough.
"I know you didn't mean it, Lucifer."
"That doesn't excuse this," he said. "I hate myself for this."
We regarded each other silently as I caressed his cheek with a hand. His eyes glistened with emotion. "That won't solve anything. This isn't you. It's the Mark, isn't it? It's affecting you," I speculated. When he hesitated, I added, "You have to tell me. So that I can help you."
He nodded. I pulled him into a hug. With my arms around his neck and his around my waist, all was forgiven.
Lucifer agreed to stay with me for a while longer. It made me nervous to see him so quiet. He'd sit at the same spot for hours at a time, doing nothing but ruminating. At least he stayed in my sights, where I could keep an eye on him. On my usual rounds around the forest, I'd try to get him to follow me, but he often preferred staying indoors. It was like after months of being highly energetic, he'd just crashed. When he talked to me, he told me about the strange feelings he'd been having. He talked of uncontrollable anger, how sometimes he just wasn't sure he could calm down. How his mind favoured harm and damage, seeing it as the only respite. He said he wanted to keep still but found it increasingly difficult to do so.
I thought it best to begin with a non-violent solution. I led him to one of my favourite planets. It had a shoreline that extended for miles with pink crystals for sand. The skies were violet, a mild swathe on which its three moons lined up vertically in different phases. The waves were gentle and made a regular comforting noise. There we sat opposite each other, breathing in the fresh phosphoric air, while I held his hands. I taught him to meditate as I tried to look into his mind. He relaxed, as did I. I extended a thread of concentration into his mind, like knocking on a door. He let me in. Trust was sacred between us so this was simple.
I saw – or felt, rather – a tingling in the back of his mind. I went to explore it and it seemed to explode, enveloping me in a dark embrace. This was familiar. The dark cloud. I recognised like the back of my own palm. It lulled me in with its ebbing and flowing and without realising it, I slipped into a dream of my own making. There were my early memories – showing me the way of destruction. The annihilation of life, matter and existence. These were horrible impressions to my rational mind, but in the stream of consciousness I received, they were accompanied by relief. Almost like a reward. This was what the Mark craved – everything that I was supposed to be, and would have been, were it not for God's intervention.
We opened our eyes. Our faces seemed to convey contradicting expressions. While I was positively disturbed, Lucifer seemed elated. He said that it helped. Upon hearing that, any misgivings I had instantly disappeared. That was all I wanted.
We continued this for a while. Lucifer said he was getting better, but the visions I saw did not. They seemed to be getting stronger and more violent, like a parasite evolving more aggressively in response to its host's immune system. I didn't understand. Why was he lying? Perhaps I was reading too much into this. He seemed to be behaving normally, even returning to his normal self. So I kept these doubts to myself. But this proved to be disastrous. One day, my whole world turned upside-down.
I'd been gone to make my usual rounds but I remembered that I wanted to check on something I had noted down on my last trip. I was returning to the house to check my records when I saw it. Lucifer was leaving the house, heading off in some unknown direction. Where was he going? I'd never seen him leave the house before and he told me that he never did anyway. So I followed him, keeping my distance. He walked with purpose like he'd done this a hundred times before. I weaved through the trees and the dense undergrowth to keep cover.
I let out a sigh of relief when I saw where he'd stopped. It was a shrine placed in the opening of the forest. It was a very simple structure, with four white pillars and a single wall that had a variety of Enochian sigils engraved in it. It was often said that such places were a direct line to God, where one could spend time in devotion and be certain that prayers were heard. Or so we believed. If all Lucifer wanted to do was pray, I couldn't have been more soothed. Then he started talking.
"I keep telling you," he spoke at the wall. I moved as close as I dared to hear his voice, which was slightly muffled by the distance. "This is getting dangerous. I don't know why you're putting me through this. More importantly, why are you putting her through this?" He seemed to be flustered. Angry, even. "All I want is answers. I want to talk, Father. Couldn't you spare a single moment for me?" He waited. "Are you so bothered by what I've become that you despise seeing me?" He huffed, looking skyward as if God should descend from the clouds. His shoulders heaved and his breaths grew deeper. "What do I have to do to get your attention, huh?" he yelled into the air. "Start a war?" He continued with a sombre tone. "I'm kidding, obviously. I'll bet those apes of yours can't come up with a decent joke." He waited around a while longer, sitting on the steps to the shrine.
The air was still. It pained me to see him like this. He seemed so visibly upset with those eyebrows creased so deeply and his jaw clenched so tight. It seemed so unlike of the Lucifer that I'd grown up with yet this was the everyday reality that I had to get used to. My love didn't decrease any less. It only throbbed more, aching to put an end to this. My woes got pushed to the back of my mind as I spotted movement. It was a fire-cat, named for its flaming coat colour that resembled the dance of fire. It was as big as what one might call a cheetah was on earth. The creature sauntered into the scene, somewhat curiously, as it noticed Lucifer. Its gait shifted between investigative pauses and cautious steps taken towards him. I watched as it nudged its snout against his leg. It probably just wanted to be petted. Lucifer was always good with cats.
Lucifer's fist clenched and knocked the fire-cat away a few feet. I gasped and flinched, taken by shock at the sudden movement. My eyes froze on the sight of the poor creature, which was now whimpering in pain and lying on its side on the grass. Tears stung my eyes as I heard its cries of pain. Maybe he didn't mean it, just like he didn't mean to hit me the last time. Maybe this was an accident. He would do what was needed to heal the creature, I thought. But as I watched, he stood up and strode toward it in a rather self-assured manner, and held its neck in a lock between his palms. In a swift twist of the wrist, he snapped its neck.
A shiver coursed through me. I'd never seen him so… cold. I whispered a silent prayer, hoping that God might at least hear me and intervene. Lucifer stormed towards the shrine and swung a full-bodied punch at a pillar, knocking away some rocky fragments. I flinched again. Not only did he kill an innocent creature, but he also desecrated a sacred shrine. This was not good at all.
Phase Three
Typically, I would have brought this up in conversation. But I could already tell how it would go. He'd apologise to me. I'd tell him to talk about what led him to do such a thing. He'd explain the painful details. I'd reassure him of my support and look for a solution. And the cycle would repeat. No, this needed greater intervention. Divine intervention. One day, I gave Lucifer a brew to calm his nerves and marched off to Imperium to seek God's advice. I didn't care about whether entering His office without being summoned was rude. I needed His guidance now more than ever. But He was nowhere to be found. Instead, I came face to face with the secretary – Metatron. The snarky moron of an angel refused to tell me anything except that God was busy and that if it was my job to take care of Lucifer then I should try harder. The attitude on this one! "God doesn't want to hear from anyone in this busy period of time," he'd said. Getting impatient, I left, hoping that God would hear my prayers and answer them soon, despite what this derisive halfwit had to say.
What was I supposed to do when the person I loved became unrecognisable right before my eyes? Every day Lucifer seemed more distant, like a star in the sky I just couldn't reach no matter how fast I flew towards it. His brothers used to visit once in a while to check up on the both of us but I could tell that it began to become taxing on them as well. Every time they looked into his eyes, the brother they once knew faded away a little more. I didn't tell anyone what I'd seen because I didn't want Lucifer to face their judgment. Instead, it became my sole burden to carry. It was what I was willing to do. Even after everything, I firmly held onto the belief that he was getting better. Someone had to.
My optimism seemed to offend the universe.
One day, I'd come back from my rounds only to find Lucifer missing. My mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. I didn't know what I would find. I searched all day for him and finally I encountered a tree in a deep forest with a fractured bark. The fracture was evidently from a forceful strike. Oh no. By this point I didn't know who to expect either. I just hoped to God that irreparable damage hadn't been done. Of course, I had to be wrong on that as well. As I picked up on his trail and followed it, I heard the distinct noises of armed struggle. I rushed to the scene and what I found truly disturbed me. An angel blade lay on the floor as Lucifer held down a lone patrolling angel and was pummelling him. I yelled his name.
"Lucifer!"
His hand paused mid-air and his face turned to me. The sheer lust for aggression I saw in his eyes truly shocked me. His eyes were so wide that they were the very picture of madness. I went near him and he stood. I glared at him, expecting an explanation, while the angel lay cowering on the ground, clearly traumatised by what he had been through.
In a gruff voice, he said, "I… I couldn't help myself… This seemed like the only way…"
"So you would hunt an angel?" I couldn't hide my exasperation. "I thought we were making progress. Was what we were already doing insufficient? Am I insufficient?"
He shook his head apologetically. "No, it's not like that. This pain… you don't understand how much it's affecting me. All I ever want to do kill and this aggression is consuming me!" His dug his fingers into his hair and pulled them out, exasperation causing them to stiffen. I was appalled by his confession. That was… a very crude way of putting it. More than anything, I was disappointed with myself. I was too encouraged by the small victories of my methods that I didn't see where they failed. Instead of becoming less aggressive, he only became better at directing it. At this point I just felt tired. It seemed like I'd tried everything and nothing worked. I was at a loss and I was even less sure of my ability to handle this than when I started.
"We can talk about this. Just… just leave the angels alone. We can't risk you getting caught like this," I suggested. At this point, my greatest worry was that word of this would get around and people would try to hurt him. I didn't realise it then, but this only numbed me further to the things he did. Frankly, I didn't care anymore about anyone else.
Lucifer sighed, a semblance of sanity returning to him. "Alright. But what do we do with this one?" We looked at the angel. I didn't even know his name. By now he was getting up on his feet and clearly terrified by our conversation. He turned around to take off, but I reacted instinctively and imploded him. Surprised by my own reaction, I flinched.
"I guess that takes care of that," I said to Lucifer. Having cleared the evidence, we both returned home. I was surprised by my own reaction to the situation. I had just killed someone. I knew I was capable – I am one of the most powerful beings in Heaven. But I had never needed to take a life before. This kind of thing was supposed to be wrong but I did what I did out of necessity, to protect Lucifer. That made it alright, right, God? I had never prayed more than on the trip back home. I just wished He would show up sometime.
He plopped onto the couch while I stood, pacing before him. "Why did you run away like that?" I asked sternly. It was more out of concern than fury because all I wanted was for him to be forward with me about whether what we were doing was working or not. Clearly, it wasn't but I wish he'd confided in me instead of going behind my back like this.
"I couldn't just say 'Honey, I'm going to find someone to kill' now, could I?" he snapped.
"You could've waited for me. We could have dealt with it together!"
"I just had the impulse and I couldn't hold it off!" Realising that his tone was harsh, he eased up a bit. He sighed. "Look, it's just getting worse and… and I was scared that if you were the first thing I saw when the impulse flared up that I…" he paused. "I just didn't want to hurt you, okay? I don't know if I can control myself, Sophia. I need to rip out the life of something or I feel agitated." He sounded just as tired as I was. His head sunk as he supported it solely with his palms. "I can't be like this anymore. I know it's wrong but I can't help it. Does this… does this make me bad?"
"Don't think like that," I spat out. "You're not a bad person, Lucifer. This is the Mark, not you. You aren't responsible for what it's doing to you."
He huffed sardonically. "Please, Sophie, you don't have to pretend that you're okay with all of this. That- that you aren't freaked out by this." He ran a hand down his face and rested it on his chin as he leant forward in thought, staring at the floor. "What if I can't fight it? What if this is just what I become? You should get away from me before I have the chance to hurt you."
"I'm not leaving you!" I yelled. How could he ever think that I would abandon him, no matter the risk to myself? Tears welled up in my eyes. I thought I was losing hope, but seeing him say this put me in despair. One of us had to have hope and if it wasn't me, it had to be him. And then I realised, he never had hope to begin with. He was the one constantly faced with his own failures and inability to resist the Mark. I was supposed to have hope for the both of us but I let him down with my own short-sightedness. "This is all my fault. I couldn't do what you needed me to do and now it's just gotten worse."
"You'll make me feel worse if you start blaming yourself for this," he let out a short, wry laugh. An extended silence filled the distance between us. "I tried to call Father, you know. But He doesn't want to show."
"I know." He looked up at me, studying my expression. "I tried too. He's probably doing something important."
"Yeah but… we're at the end of the line here. We need Him. What else will we do?" I could see that he was trying so hard to keep it together. If there was any bit of strength I had left to deal with the Mark, I would use it to pull one last string.
"We'll try again. Maybe He doesn't get how bad it's becoming. Let's pray again. Together, this time." I knelt in front of him. He nodded, hope returning to his eyes again. We held hands and stayed in silence for a moment.
"Father, if you're there, it's me," Lucifer began, closing his eyes. "I know you asked Sophie to help me but… but it's getting bad. I don't think there's anything we can do about it. We could really use your help."
We waited. No answer. God used to love talking to His son. What happened to that? Was it me? Was He disappointed with my inability to do what He asked? In this moment of hopelessness, that was the first thing that came to mind. That I had somehow ruined things because of some sin I'd committed. "I seek forgiveness, God, if I've done anything to upset you," I said. With every word I poured from my heart, guilt tugged at my eyes. "I'm sorry if I didn't live up to your expectations and I couldn't fulfil this obligation which you gave me. Punish me if you will, but please come. Your son needs you." I couldn't hold the tears back anymore.
"Sophie…" Lucifer used a thumb to wipe away the tears from my cheeks.
I shook my head, refusing his loving gesture. "I don't see any other reason as to why He's not here. It's just my luck, isn't it?"
"Stop it!" he pulled me towards him, pressing my head against him. Overcome with emotion, I sobbed into his chest as he caressed my head and back with his arms. "Look at what it's come to, Father! Your absence is offensive!"
"M-Maybe it's us. Maybe He found out about us being together and disapproves of our union. Maybe we made Him angry," I speculated, still a weeping mess in his arms.
"This isn't fair, Sophia. He's the one who put us together like this. From the moment He chose me to bind you to this world. If He doesn't want to answer us, He's just decided that this isn't important," Lucifer concluded, rage evident in his voice. That day, a rift formed between us and God, one that could never be repaired. We were at our most desperate period of time and desperation could bring out bitterness in even saints. More importantly, that day, we realised that we only had each other to rely on. Tough times can bring people together and the Mark… it was like a glue that bound us.
Moments later…
It was at this point that I really realised what I was capable of. My mind was swimming, tired of all the disappointment and failure. Out of this pit of despair arose the conviction of what I was willing to do. I began to fully understand the depth of my need to fix this problem. It wasn't just some kind of ailment that affected my beloved; it was the wrath of my Mother, come to haunt me in another form, in another life where I'd managed to find happiness. If at least in spite of her, I could find a way. From this spite came my next bright idea.
"I was afraid that it would come to this but…" I pulled away from his chest and rested my forehead against his. "I just thought of something, and it sounds crazy. But it might work. I was thinking about how what you're going through comes from the Mark, and the Mark is channelling The Darkness into you. From what you are telling me, you only seem to be relieved from fulfilling the inclinations of The Darkness. And here's the crazy part." I paused, giving myself time to put together my thoughts coherently. "I still bear the Darkness I was forged out of. I could try… giving you my essence in doses. It might satisfy the Mark. What do you think?"
Lucifer spoke, in a soft voice, "Are you sure? It will be painful for you, and don't Dark and Light poison each other?"
"What other choice do we have? Angel hunting? We have to give it a try at least. A small dose will not do irreparable damage." I took my archangel blade and cut myself at the neck, making a small incision. I felt a sharp sting. Lucifer's eyes fixated on the incision and I could sense his effort to control his instinctive reaction. So this was triggering the Mark somehow. It could work.
"I can't do this. Not to you," he implored. I took his hand and placed his palm on my neck such that his thumb could hold up my jaw and expose the incision.
"I want this for you," I said, trying to convince him. "Will you do this thing for me?"
Unable to hold himself back, his lips sunk into my neck, lustfully drinking my essence. As I held his head to my neck and his other hand slid to my waist, I leaned back and we were both laying against other on the floor, with him on top of me in a passionate embrace. As the essence flowed, pain seared from the cut and I wanted to groan out loud in agony but I gritted my teeth instead. Knowing that this could help him made me endure it and to a certain extent, even enjoy it. Our bodies rocked together as his mouth shifted position to get a better angle and I contorted in response to make way for him. His hand traced my forearm, finding my fingers and lacing his with them. Eventually he pulled away and lay next to me. I turned, leaning on him with my head on his shoulder. "Do you feel better now?" I asked. He stared at the ceiling, saying nothing. His eyes seemed to search the wooden floorboards above for an answer.
"Surprisingly, yes," he panted a reply, kissing my forehead.
There was remarkable improvement in the following weeks. This time, it was real improvement. Lucifer returned to work again and he was as he always had been, which came as a relief to Michael. I came to visit him like I did quite regularly these days. The reason was simple.
Our eyes met as I locked the door to Lucifer's office. His hands slid around my waist as he held me against the door and neared me. My fingers squeezed around his biceps, barely making a dent in them. I couldn't help but smile at our proximity and neither could he. This was as normal as normal got for us. The sight of his dimples and lips drove me so mad sometimes that I felt like I was losing my mind to him. And I had always been okay with that.
He bent down, lifting me up by the waist as our lips sealed emphatically. We were taken by the moment, as always. He carried me over to a couch and lay me down, now making his way down my neck. When we'd both had enough, he brought out a short knife of his. It was time. I pulled down a sleeve of my dress and he cut me right below my collarbone, a spot which would typically be obscured by my dress. He'd gotten to task so quickly that I barely felt the pain before his contact, which might have been the intention. His hands cradled the arch of my back while I held him to me, combing through his amber hair. This had become a regular thing. Our only working solution had a short half-life, so we had no choice but to do it again and again.
I counted the seconds. He passed the threshold of the first time again. I tried to nudge him away but he only sucked harder. I sharply inhaled as my own limits of pain were breached. My head grew light. Dark spots appeared in my vision. "Slower, darling," I urged as I tried to push him away. But he was far too gone to be returned. He grabbed my arms and held them behind me. Helplessly, I waited for him to finish and leave me a drained heap on the couch. As unsettled as I was, I said nothing. If this was truly helping him become himself again, I didn't want to jeopardise it. Anyway, this kind of force wasn't anything I wasn't used to from him.
Still, I mulled over the experience by myself in a forest one day, contemplating whether this was truly acceptable. That was when I felt a presence near me. I spun around, armed with my archangel blade, when I saw an unfamiliar figure. He was cloaked in black and from what I could see, his face was emaciated and grim. Clouds of black smoke poured from his sleeves and under his robes. His thin fingers held onto a scythe and his black eyes had silver irises. A dark and ancient energy resonated about him.
"We need to talk," his deep voice resounded.
"Who… who are you?" I inquired. "I've never seen you before."
"I'm not fond of popularity," the figure spoke in a sort of cordial manner that I'd only ever heard from God or Amara. "I came to warn you. What you are doing to Lucifer is not sustainable."
"How do you know about that?" I demanded, tightening my grip on my archangel blade.
"Calm down, child. I am not here to hurt you. Nor will you be able to hurt me. I cannot be killed." Admittedly, I was a little terrified by his appearance. But he seemed friendly enough that I wasn't completely defensive.
"What is your interest in all of this?" I dared ask, hoping that scythe would stay where it was.
"Oh, don't take me wrongly. I am a mere observer of things. I couldn't care less for God's creations," he elaborated. "But what you are doing to Lucifer, it's poisoning him. You are feeding the Mark and weakening his hold on it. Now, I don't care for whether God or Amara gets the upper hand, but God should have taken my advice. He hasn't, and so did a great disservice to the order of things," he grumbled. He sighed a dark, misty cloud. "You should be helping Lucifer maintain control. Instead you are only helping him give in to it more!"
I gulped at his tirade. "Wait," I hesitated. "What advice?"
He looked at me with pause. "Who do you think gave God the idea of a truce between Him and Amara?" I tilted my head in confusion. He rolled his eyes. "Never gives me any credit, does He? I am Death. I am old enough to remember what it was like with just God and Amara, before the universe began. God and I correspond on occasion, although I avoid taking sides in their petty familial rivalry. I was the first one God talked to about rescuing you. I must say, I disagreed with Him about it at first, but now I see that you have immense potential."
Now it all made sense. Why the escape was so easy, why the truce idea seemed to come out of nowhere, everything. But if what he was saying about Lucifer was true, how could I then help him? I asked Death, and he said, "You don't win this by trying every remedy in the book. It's a battle of will and strength, not wit. You may not understand this fully now, but you have to keep trying. Do not expect that nothing will go wrong on the way. Things are meant to go wrong. Just don't feed your damn essence to him."
I felt nothing. Absolutely no affect. Was this all that this ancient being had to offer me? "Is there any actual advice you have to offer that isn't cryptic?" I did not hold back my bitterness.
Death's eyes narrowed. "I've intervened enough," he declared. "Maybe you will take me seriously when I come to reap Lucifer's life."
My eyes widened at the thought. "No, wait," I bid him. "I'm… sorry. Tell me more."
"Your essence feeds the Mark. The more you give him, the stronger Amara gets. And when She gets strong enough… your lover will not stand a chance," he explained patiently. "This is all I can offer."
Before I could press him on anything, dark, wispy smoke enveloped his thin figure and converged. When the smoke cleared, he was nowhere to be found.
My mind was heavy as I returned home. What have I done to him? I thought I was helping him but I've been… killing him. Slowly. I had to stop. Immediately. When I arrived, I found Lucifer studying my bookshelf, browsing the titles. He rushed to greet me as I entered. "I've been waiting for you," he said. That's what I was afraid of, I thought. Without pause, he lifted me and sat me on the table and tilted my neck to expose my flesh.
Before he could take out his sharp blade, I lay my hands on his chest. "Not now, Lucifer."
I tried to get off the table and on my feet, but he pushed me back. "What do you mean, 'not now'? I need you, Sophia."
"I mean, this is not a good idea. We can't keep doing this," I asserted, somewhat meekly.
His grip on my arm tightened uncomfortably. "Why not?" he questioned, his eyebrows creasing ever so slightly.
I sensed his tension and tried to be as patient as I could. I wanted to make him understand. "Because it's hurting you. This isn't good for you."
"What are you talking about? I feel great," he rebutted. The temporary effects were relief from the Mark's influence, but in the long term it could prove disastrous.
"I know, but I can't let you do this anymore. This could actually be poisoning you and compromising the integrity of the Mark," I explained.
"This was your idea, Sophia. And it's working out great for me. I thought you said you wanted this?" A tinge of accusation was present in his tone, like a sign of his withering control over the Mark. Without this temporary fix, he seemed to be reverting back to his old ways. This was a lot worse than I'd imagined.
"I did, and now I don't. Can we just leave it at that?" I tried to get away again, but Lucifer grabbed me forcefully. He dug into my neck again, despite my struggles to push him away. He sunk his teeth into my neck and tore open the flesh, exposing a large gash. I yelled in pain, but he ignored me. He sucked at my essence with so much vigour that I felt myself going weak. My body hurt where his arms had seized me. "…Lucifer…" I whispered in agony. In a last ditch attempt to break away, I pushed my arms against his relatively larger form, albeit weakly. He pulled away, suddenly sobered by my meek cry. I held one hand to my injured neck. The cut was deep. I didn't even recognise the archangel in front of me.
"Sophia, I-" he started.
"I have failed you, Lucifer. Forgive me," I uttered, dashing to the rooftop. I needed to clear my head.
There I focussed on healing myself. It was difficult to heal wounds when they were inflicted by someone as powerful as an archangel, especially when there was significant loss of essence. The latter made me weak and I was beginning to feel light-headed so I took a seat and stared into the horizon, slowly gathering my strength.
Lucifer came to join me, his expression apologetic. He sat next to me and placed his hand on me. I flinched, clearly still unnerved by the whole experience. I looked away.
"This isn't your fault," he said with a tear-choked voice. There was a brief silence. "I knew that you would get hurt somehow," he nodded to himself. "And I still stayed, like some kind of idiot because I was afraid. I should have left you alone when I had the chance. I'm… I'm sorry."
"I would never leave you to suffer alone. Not even at the cost to myself," I replied with an equally weakened tone. "I just wish I had seen this coming."
He knelt before me to inspect the wound. He helped me heal it, albeit partially. The pain went away. Before the burden of decision-making could set on me, I hugged him, and we both leaned against each other, observing the darkening of the skies and the rise of the moon. We remained this way, wordlessly, until sunrise.
Lucifer was the first to get up. "Where are you going?" I asked.
"I'm tired of fighting this and losing every time. It is clear to me now that there is only one way this ends. I'm going to do what I need to do," he replied. I saw the Mark beginning to glow, demanding his attention.
"Whatever you're going to do, I can't let you. Please don't go," I begged. He managed a serene smile at that.
"I'll try not to get caught." With a sly wink he flew away. I lay down on the roof, staring at the stars. I didn't know what to expect. Perhaps it was better this way. A few hours later, I received a message from God, saying that He had news. It was about time He talked to us at all, and then the thought dawned on me that if this truly was about The Mark, I could expect a lot of disapproval from Him. What did you do, Lucifer? I wondered. But then I reasoned that a message concerning Lucifer wouldn't sound this… calm if it was bad news. With conflicting expectations, I flew to God's office.
