Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon, Zeruch(War)/OC
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter:36
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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As it could not be changed anymore, Zeruch stayed in the heavy circuit for warrior-children. After the initial acclimatization-period, he took to it swimmingly to the point that Azrael and Abaddon – the latter in fear of the former's wrath – had to regularly stop the teachers from increasing the boy's workload, just to see if he could handle it.
After the first year, recruits were expected to stay in the barracks until their training was finished. Zeruch quickly became a favourite among his peers for various reasons mostly related to the fact that he had never developed the habit of 'egging' which was a favoured way of angelic sleeping. As such, during the colder parts of the year, he could be the one to throw blankets over the eggs his fellow recruits formed without them having to feel guilty that he had to sleep in a bed. In fact, after a while they started squabbling about who would be allowed to egg beneath his wings during those months. The sight was certainly a memorable one.
There were certainly incidents during the decade-long program that had one of his parents be less than amused. The most memorable of these for Abaddon was the 'accident' the boy had had two years into it. Learning of his lessons in fire and stone-magics – and the teacher's decision to have him focus heavily on those – some of his friends insisted he show them his skill.
Said demonstration of skill resulted in one barrack burning down.
That was the most furious Abaddon had ever been with his son, resulting in disciplinary action that would over the eons become legendary; the General ordered the boy he had adopted to fly twenty laps around the central city. For the first time in a good while, Zeruch was near-comatose come evening.
The infamy of said punishment was only rivalled by the incident near the end of Zeruch's training. Despite their admiration among the warriors, Azrael had sworn bloody retribution against Abaddon should the General even so much as think about having their son join the Champions. The scholar compared them to a cult.
So when Heaven's finest mystic heard his son repeat their eternal mantra – "We are the shields, we are the swords, we are the defence of Heaven." – and saw the boy with a group of them... suffice to say, Abaddon's newest recruits had the dubious honor of taking care of kitten-shaped Champions for the week it took the great warrior to get his fellow parent to turn them back.
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"Enjoying the view?" Nathaniel sat down beside Azrael, feeling amused at how the scholar stood out among the warriors that were attending the ceremony.
"I've seen better. With more books." Azrael looked at the other male. "Where's your wife?"
"On duty." The bald angel briefly rearranged his wings behind him. The two of them were sitting on benches lining the main training-grounds. "Abaddon cannot give every parent leave when graduation hits."
"True." Azrael threw a glance at his fellow parent over at the podium that had been build for today. "Alas, his fate has been sealed: my child will be a warrior."
"I heard you intend to ensure he spends most of his on-duty time at the Argent Spire." Nathaniel leaned back lightly.
"Of course." The mystic smiled lightly. "Where else would Azrael's son be expected to be?"
"True." The warrior wondered how much longer it was until the ceremony would start. "I'm surprised his grandparents are not here. I figured at least Abaddon's would not miss this for anything in the world."
The blue-clad male sighed softly. "Don't I know it. I remember the scene they made when Abaddon first introduced Zeruch to them. I asked my parents to keep them busy."
"The power of Firstborn." The armoured male stated with some amusement. "Did they not wish to see this?"
"They assured me they understood why I asked it." They both fell silent when the ceremony started, lasting for much of the day.
"Feel the warmongering yet now that you are a full-fledged warrior?" Azrael asked when joining his other two family-members.
"Nah." Zeruch grinned widely. "How do I look?"
Now that he was a full warrior, he also wore the armour he would wear for the rest of his life; his wings, proudly spread, framed his new Storm Warden armour. Aside from his coming duties in the Argent Spire, he would also be specialized in the use of an Ortho in combat.
"Every bit the proud warrior you always wanted to be." Azrael briefly clasped his son's hands. "At least now I'll be seeing you more often that the few days Abaddon gives you off."
"Well, excuse me if I don't do special treatments." Abaddon muttered, frowning lightly.
Azrael coughed something that sounded a lot like 'twenty laps around the city' in answer, before looking over at his son. "I wish you luck getting Orth to behave long enough for the specialisation though."
"I'm sure I'll manage." The younger male smirked still.
"If she refuses, he just gets a new one." The General beside him muttered darkly. "A proper one, this time."