Category:Darksiders I & II
Rating:M
Couples:Azrael/Abaddon
Warnings:AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter:33
Copyright:Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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The addition of the Ortho to the household was certainly an interesting one, particularly after Abaddon also moved into Azrael's mansion.
Much to Azrael's amusement, the proud General and small ball of fuzz hit it off perfectly... in other words; Abaddon was this close to murdering it after the first week. Abaddon complained that it acted as if it was a pampered Sphinx, a far smaller and tamer breed of the Griffon species, thus it was next to useless as a steed. Orth took offence of the General's tone and avenged her-self by gnawing on Abaddon's finest boots. The scholar thought it the perfect example of irony that the warrior's hopes for a powerful war-steed were being foiled by said war-steed enjoying antagonizing him.
The small animal became the scholar's companion, joining him everywhere in the house when she was not busy driving Abaddon up several walls.
Zeruch meanwhile blended right in with his angelic peers at school. Abaddon tried several more times to get him into the special classes for gifted children, failing every time to bypass Azrael's eagle eyes.
The only real problem came when Zeruch reached puberty. During history that year, the lessons also came to the Nephilim. The boy was traumatized. He had – and still did – worshipped his siblings... to now hear of the atrocities they might well have had part in broke something inside him.
The first day the subject had come up, Azrael came home to find the boy curled up in bed, Orth tooting softly as she tried to comfort him. It took the scholar a good while to get him somewhat presentable again.
Things became worse when it became apparent that the Nephilim had recovered from their losses in that one demon-attack and started on their vicious rampage once more. Azrael actually had to excuse Zeruch from school for a week, claiming the boy had fallen sick and needed to recuperate before he could rejoin lessons once more.
In fact, Azrael himself had to work at home as well, as the boy had actually fallen into depression, more than once demanding his parents just throw him back to the demons, as that was certainly a far better fate for him than being raised in the purity and luxury of Heaven. It took many hours of talking to his son; convincing him that no, he did belong in Heaven with Azrael and Abaddon, and Zeruch himself already had proven that Nephilim were far more than just brutal savages.
The scholar's pearl-white eyes stared mournful at his slumbering son, while caressing his head. Orth had taken to sleeping close to her companion and nuzzling at his side, refusing to leave him alone while being in distress. Heaving out a sigh, Azrael prayed that the upcoming years would be kinder towards Zeruch.
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On a faithful day several years later, Zeruch gathered the last of his belongings while sighing and stuffed them haphazardly in his bag. Father would disapprove of this, but at the moment he didn't care. For a few weeks, there had been some kind of itch under his skin. It made him moody and irritable.
"Doesn't even respect what got thrown in his lap." Now Zeruch could hear whispers floating over, one of his classmates muttering it darkly.
"Agreed." Hasmed nodded, while throwing a gloomy glance towards Zeruch. "He clearly doesn't deserve to be adopted by two of the highest ranked angels."
At hearing this, the young Nephilim stood still like a marble statue; his blue eyes widening in disbelieve at his fellow classmates.
"You don't deserve to have Lord Azrael and Abaddon as your 'parents'." The other angel spoke up again. "You don't even appreciate just how lucky you are they decided to take pity on you."
The perplexed teen dropped his bag. Where THAT suddenly came from? "What do you mean I don't deserve my parents!? I, damn certainly appreciate them!"
"Tsk, look he is cursing already", Hasmed sneered at him. Folding his arms in front of him, he continued: "That is what I mean about being so undeserving.
"You're more demon than angel at this point." His friend pointed out. "It's almost disgracing that they bother with you."
"I'm no demon! Don't you dare to compare me to them!" Hissing at his classmates, Zeruch felt the itch becoming worse. His trembling hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.
"Well, you were stuck for a long time with them. Who knows what kind of magic's they stuffed in you." The sneer became more sinister: "Instead of the Lords, The Circle should have put you back in the slum, where you clearly belong."
"Then again, how would they put him down there?" The other angel pointed out. "His family was so low on the ladder they didn't even exist. He might as well have been a demonic slave-born for all we know."
"You are right, Biztha. See, you might as well be non-existent to us. Well Nobody, what are you going to say about that?"
Grinding his teeth, Zeruch stared furious at the two. "I am no slave-born and I do have a Name! What is your problem of me being adopted by Azrael and Abaddon?"
"That you do not deserve it." Biztha pointed out while crossing his arms. "There are plenty of orphans who deserve that spot and of whom people actually KNOW things, unlike you, who literally came from a garbage-can as far as anyone can tell."
"They have actually family who could take care of them; I had no one." Suddenly, Zeruch felt calmer, or rather the more of the false type of calm; one that easily snapped into something else. Something more dark. "Is that why you are so annoyed?"
Hasmed looked bewildered at the suddenly calm looking teen. "What?!"
"I don't think he even knows Angelic, Hasmed." The other angel looked both amused and surprised. "'Orphan' means 'someone without family'… Seems even as the 'son' of the greatest scholar of Heaven, he can't use his brain."
Rolling with his eyes, Zeruch replied coldly: "I think You need to look up the definition, Biztha. 'Orphan' means 'a child who has lost both parents through death'. Unless you are one those people who like to talk stupid." Showing off his wide grin, he further pointed out. "Unlike your parents, mine chose to adopt me. At least I'm sure they wouldn't mourn about having me. Weren't you born 7 months after your parents' wedding, Hasmed? I'm sure your parents are happy with your failing results, Biztha." Zeruch should thank the gossiping staff for the information. Also, he needed to leave. Quick, for he wasn't sure how long this false calm was going to last.
"WHY YOU FILTHY LOWBORN!"
"Calm yourself, Hasmed." Biztha smiled serenely, resting a hand on his friend's arm. "Seems our little demon-spawn DOES have some brains. Yes, I am not getting the best grades... but last I checked, yours are failing as well... and Hasmed's parents might have gotten him a bit early, but at least he knows them. Who were yours again?"
"Dead and you know that you..." Zeruch swallowed the last words. "Azrael and Abaddon are now my parents, nearly my whole life in matter in fact." He leant down to pick up his fallen bag. The young teen needed to leave as he could feel a burning energy crawl through his body; hollering to be released and rampage freely around him.
"You know I wasn't asking about them." Biztha smirked. "I'm talking about those that are either demon-slaves or somehow managed to drop you into Hell."
The Nephilim saw red.