Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter:29
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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"Do I have to wear this, daddy?" Zeruch stared at the many layers of his robe, displeased that he had wear this unwieldy thing. He could barely run in it, forcing him to walk slowly and it was so heavy it made harder for him to fly.
"If you really want to come with me, yes." Azrael chuckled softly. "Besides, you look like a little mini-me, don't you think?" He moved to stand beside his son in front of the mirror.
Looking back and forth from himself and his father, the Nephilim had to admit that the elder was right: two identical looking angels looked back at him from the mirror. During the months of his stay his hair has grown longer, though maybe not as long as Azrael's. But with the formal clothing he looked like a smaller version of the ancient scholar. "Why isn't Uncle coming?"
"Because he had a meeting with some of his staff." The scholar laughed softly. "Perhaps next time we can manage to take him along?"
"Oh, 'Kay."
The child pulled at his collar. "It chokes me." He wasn't used to this ceremonial dress. The camp never really had these kind of gathering; the only time the Nephilim wore this many layers of clothes was during winters. The homesickness towards to his old life became less and less, however with moments like this, he felt the faint twang of loss.
"You'll get used to it." Azrael kneeled down to tug a bit on the fabric so it was more open. "Besides, you look adorable like this." He tousled the boy's hair lightly, promptly smoothing it out again as well. "Be glad you do not need to wear an arch yet." He gestured to the golden ornament on his back.
Making a face at the large arch, Zeruch hesitantly asked. "Do I have to wear that when I'm bigger?"
"Maybe not as elaborate, but you'll have to wear something of an arch, yes." The scholar stood up, offering his hand to the child. "Would you mind if it was like Abaddon's?"
"No... maybe... Why I do need a …." Pointing helpless at the golden Halo. "Why do you wear them? Are they not heavy?" The boy in the beginning had had some problems keeping his balance after he had gotten his wings: he could see himself tip over if he would have that on his back.
"It's a symbol of status." Azrael looked up at it. "And yes, they can get heavy, thankfully you'll only need to wear them when you are an adult and have build up the muscles to be able to carry them." Though the mystic himself had cheated a bit by having enchanted it to be lighter.
Zeruch nodded at that, understanding the principle of symbols to declare your standing in the world. "Okay. Is it why you have markings on your wings? Can I have them too?"
"You'll have to study a lot of magic to get these." Azrael lead the way outside as they talked. "I got these when my magic became really strong."
"Being grown-up is hard." Pouting, Zeruch followed him and reached out to grab his hand.
"Pretty much, yes." The scholar took the hand, beating his wings to become airborne.
Flapping franticly to keep himself aloft with the heavy robes, the young one began to clutch the hand with both of his own. How did his father fly so easy and smooth with his clothes?!
"You okay?" Azrael slowed down a touch. "Want me to enchant your clothes to be lighter?"
"No, is okay..." Zeruch disliked to admit defeat, certainly not over some clothes!
"Alright." The elder angel resumed their flight to the Argent Spire, where the gathering was to be held. "Looking forward to it?"
Grinning at his father, he showed off his tiny sharp teeth. "Yea. Will there be lots of food?"
Azrael rolled his eyes fondly. "There will be a buffet. But you can only go twice." He patted the small head teasingly. "Can't have you eat everything like you used to, can we?"
"Awww." It took quite awhile before the child had become used to eating at least 3 times a day and even longer until he wasn't stuffing himself anymore until absolute fullness every time he got to eat. Nowadays he could contain himself, mostly that is. Though he secretly hoped that his father would make an exception tonight.
"The plates are big." Azrael leaned over with a small chuckle. "And the food is usually very filling." He added as an afterthought.
"Okay. Only two times." He let one hand go, so he could stick up two fingers.
"Good boy." Azrael smiled warmly, making to land in front of the large golden doors.
Landing with stagger, Zeruch managed not to fall forward on his face. Fanning out his wings to get rid some of the tension, he held on tighter on the elder's hand. He once again felt a bit shy to see the large group of angels.
"Don't worry." The mystic lead him inside, looking around the room. "Ah, some others brought their children as well." He pointed up at the ceiling where more children were fluttering around the glowing balls that spend the light at this gathering.
The Nephilim pressed himself against his father. "Can I stay with you for a bit?"
"Ofcourse." Azrael smiled gently at the boy. "Buffet first, I assume?" He gestured to a long table on the other side of the room, loaded with food, laughing softly at the happy and eager nod he received in answer.