Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: T
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon, Zeruch(War)/OC
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter: 46
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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"You'll be in charge of the left wing." Abaddon informed his son. "It's beyond time you get a large command."
"But Uncle... General Abaddon, why the sudden change of plans? I was supposed to be at your side! And to be honest I don't think this is right moment to receive a promotion!" The younger male protested, wings ruffled in agitation.
"It's more of a lateral move, to be honest, Garrison commander." Abaddon muttered before speaking up again. "You have your orders, that concludes this conversation."
Zeruch felt the frustration mounting; this made no sense! "General Abaddon, I have to disagree: this sudden change in command will only confuse our fellow warriors. Especially if there is no specific reason to do so, my Lord."
"Warriors are trained to obey." The General sharply countered. "You should remember that as well." He could not... could not tell the younger male that all Nephilim were going to die. He could not do that to the boy.
Stiffening at the command, Zeruch couldn't stop a flash of hurt from appearing in his eyes. Why was his Uncle doing this? Sending him far away from his side? Squaring his shoulder and placing his fist to his chest. "Forgive me, my Lord. I've overstepped."
Abaddon sighed, wrapping his arms and wings around his son. "Azrael would never forgive me if something happened to you."
"Then why, Uncle? Why are you sending me away?" Zeruch mumbled while returning the embrace. "Father will be just as upset if anything happened to you."
"I do have a far better track-record than you do." Abaddon pulled lightly back. "Speaking of Azrael, he asked me to give you this." Standing on his tiptoes - much to his eternal annoyance – he kissed the forehead of his son. "Besides, do you really want to be in the frontlines in a battle again Nephilim?"
Looking down at mention of his kind, he spoke in a low voice. "Is that why you are sending me over there? Because of my kind?" Zeruch felt a heavy feeling in his chest.
"Among others." Abaddon moved back a bit, heading over to the table in the corner of his tent. "Remember your helmet as well. I really, really don't want Azrael to get mad at me."
"I shall, Uncle", the blue-eyed warrior agreed; abruptly he remembered something. "Say, is it true that the Charred Council sent some reinforcements?"
"If one can consider three people reinforcements." Abaddon flinched a bit. So much for being able to hide the decree of the Council from him at this rate.
He felt curiosity creeping in at his uncle admission. "What are they like? Can I meet them?" He only heard whispers about the powerful arbiters of The Charred Council; nobody could really give him a good description of them.
"That would be a horrible idea." The older male answered before he could stop himself. Flinching again, he realized that he should have taken Azrael along just to have the scholar do this talk. "They're... they are Nephilim... with orders to kill all other Nephilim." He admitted softly.
Zeruch's eyes widen in horror and stepped a few paces back. "What?" No, no, that couldn't be true!
Abaddon deflated at the sight of his child like this. "I am afraid it is."
"But that means they are going to..." Wings twitched and the angelic Nephilim wrung his hands. "Does this mean after they... eradicate the Nephilim, I should come forward so they...?"
"Most assuredly not." The General's eyes filled with anger at the mere thought. "I am putting you in the left flank to keep you away from them precisely so they will not find out you are a Nephilim. You're only going to die to those attack-dogs over my damn corpse, that's for certain."
"But the Charred Council... They want all Nephilim gone."
"You are mine and Azrael's son. You are engaged to Gabriel. You are more of an angel than plenty of angels. You will not die like those abominations that grew up under Lilith's filthy claws."
"That will put you and father at risk! You can't just ignore the Charred Council, they are the Creator's Chosen!" Wings twitched harder at the idea of endangering his angelic family; he was going to lose his Nephilim one, so he couldn't bear the thought to lose the other!
"They might be the Guardians of the Balance, but you are our son and have never threatened the Balance. They have no right to take you... and if that means me and Azrael will have to fight them over it, I sincerely hope they know how to make themselves invulnerable." Abaddon declared, taking his son's face in his hands. "You will not die. Me and Azrael will not die. Not today and not ever."
Zeruch dropped his wings and leaned his forehead against his Uncle's. "I... Thank you... For everything... I shall make you and father proud." Leaning away from the General, the warrior lifted his head up proudly.
"Does that mean you'll finally get yourself a warrior-girl?" The General asked with a crooked grin. "Besides, don't thank me yet. If you thought Garrison-commanders had tons of paperwork, wait until you see the piles Legion-commanders have to do."
"Uncle, why!"
"Because I want you to stay alive... that counts for all of those things, by the way." Abaddon smirked. "I guess that's one upside to you getting Gabriel."
Zeruch barely stopped himself rolling his eyes. "I go to my new post, getting acquainted with the position. And you will tell Naya'il about my promotion; she will not be amused by this."
"I thought we wanted all of us to survive this?" The general snorted. "I'll do it after the battle. It's your duty to inform your second of any immediate changes, after all."