Author's Note: Second part is up. I'd also like to use the author's not to tell everyone on that if you don't already know, Fallen is being made into a mini-series for ABC Family that premiers on August 13th at 7 pm. They made some changes to the characters, so I also want to say that in any fic I write, I'll be sticking to the books as close as I can. Again, there's the second part of the song lyrics at the bottom of the page as well as some author's end notes. Please enjoy and review.
Part II
It was the kind of exhaustion one felt after a long time of doing some repetitive task and eventually growing to despise it. Camael could remember feeling like he accomplished something after every mission. He could remember returning to Heaven and knowing without a doubt that his Father was pleased, that he had done the right thing. He allowed himself to feel justified, righteous. Now all he felt was tired, nearly dreading future missions. He was not surprised at the Morningstar's comment.
"You look older, Camael," unlike when he spoke with Verchiel, there was no hint of sarcasm in his voice, nothing but quiet observation. The leader of the Powers couldn't deny that it was true. Somehow the weariness in his soul had managed to age his body.
"What are you doing here, Morningstar?" he asked sternly. "Have you come to cause trouble for those the Almighty has blessed with the gift of freedom?"
He looked more surprised then offended at the accusation. "I didn't even know what is to happen until less than an hour ago. Trust me, if I knew that I'd have the pleasure of your company," he looked at Verchiel when he said that, "I would have stayed in Greece."
"Why, you insolent…" the second-in-command steeped forward, teeth gritted in fury, but Camael blocked his path.
"Don't waste your anger on him, brother," he said calmly. "Do we not have a task to complete?"
Verchiel looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. "Yes, sir," he muttered reluctantly.
"Then go do it," Camael ordered then turned to another angel at his left. "Bayleth, make sure no Hebrews are harmed this night." The soldier bowed his head in acceptance, and the Camael raised his voice to the other angels. "You all know your mission. Go forth and do as the Creator decreed. I will deal with the Morningstar."
One by one, then in greater numbers, the Powers leapt to the air and spread out in all directions until the traveler was left alone with Camael and his second-in-command on the ground. Verchiel gave him once last distrustful look before he too took flight, moving towards the palace. A beat passed before the first of the fallen spoke.
"I'd watch out for that one if I were you," he nodded his head in Verchiel's direction. "He's got quite a bit of anger in him, and those Seven Deadlies can sneak up out of the blue. I should know, right?" He gave Camael a grin, but the Powers commander remained emotionless.
"I do not worry for him," he replied, though that was not entirely true. "As of the moment, he is in God's favor. What of you, son of the morning?."
"What is it with you people and not calling me by first name?" the question bore a bit of annoyance. "I happen to like my name. My Father gave it to me."
"Still acting like a child, I see," Camael shook his head sadly. "How terribly sad that one as powerful and wise as you has been reduced to this. I pity you, Lucifer. How much pain must you be in."
"Not that I don't deserve it," the first of the fallen shrugged casually, secretly pleased to hear his name. "And aren't you here to add to it?"
"No," Camael shook his head. "The Almighty has already judged you. I have nothing further to add. My only concern is that you do not affect the events that are to take place here. I will guide you out of here to the desert. After that, I will once again blissfully forget about your existence."
"That is very considerate of you, Camael," Lucifer bowed his head graciously. "Lead the way."
The desert was much calmer than he remembered it so Lucifer didn't bother to cover his nose and mouth with a cloth to keep out the sand that was usually stirred up by sudden gusts of wind. He walked a few steps behind Camael, watching the leader of the Powers carefully. He wasn't joking when he said the man looked older. The once radiant silver hair seemed to fade to a dulling mix of gray and white falling along the lines of weariness that began to line his face. Lucifer knew full well that humans wove great and terrible tales of his ability to manipulate people by reading their hearts, but while those rumors were greatly exaggerated, there was some truth to them. He always did have a stronger sense of what others were thinking or feeling then most, and at the moment he knew that something wasn't quite right with the Powers commander.
"Would you speak to me, Camael?" the request was borne quietly.
"I have nothing to say," he didn't bother to turn.
"Come now, there must be something," Lucifer insisted. "I have been without the company of my brothers…"
"We are no longer kin," the angel threw him a sharp look over his shoulder. "You spat on us and our Father by starting the Great War."
"But you are better then I," the first of the fallen smiled sadly. "Therefore, you will take pity and offer me some conversation. I wander alone on this earth, Camael, and I abhor silence. Come. Tell me of one of your glorious missions."
Though the angel's face remained expressionless, Lucifer knew that he'd struck a nerve. Still, he knew that Camael wasn't too quick to admit his own uneasiness and was proven right when the warrior spoke.
"Two centuries ago," he sounded as if he was musing to himself rather then recounting a tale, "I was in the heart of Europe when I came across one of the deserters from the Great War, Ariel, formally of the host of Virtues. He was masquerading as a scholar, living on the edge of some human village. I had no quarrel with him at the time, but when I returned a century later, he was living within the village with a woman named Helena, and she was heavy with child."
The first of the fallen cast down his gaze, knowing full well the conclusion of such a story.
"Did you at least do them the courtesy of not having to witness each others deaths?"
Camael paused before replying. "I did."
"I'm glad to hear that," Lucifer nodded. "At least some glimmer of mercy lives on."
"What do you care for these children?" Camael questioned. "They are an unholy union between our kind and the same humans you began the Great War over. The humans you despised from the moment they were created."
"You're absolutely right," the sinner agreed. "I did hate humans, and though I now see my foully and needless jealousy, I still do not understand them the way the Lord would have us. There is still much for me to learn. But this isn't about humans or us for that matter. You just said the one word that makes all the difference. Children, Camael. Those are children you're slaughtering."
"You have not seen them!" with anger burning in his eyes the leader of the Powers stopped in his tracks to face the Morningstar. "You have not seen the destruction they wrought in the days before the Great Flood. Humanity raised their voices to Heaven and begged us to rid them of those monsters. They are completely without control, further proof that our kind was not meant to lay with mortals."
"Hey don't knock it till you try it," the other man grinned.
Camael looked revolted. "You disgust me."
He expected the Morningstar's typical sarcastic retort, but Lucifer's face suddenly grew serious, and he was looking past Camael's shoulder into the distance. The leader of the Powers turned his head in the same direction and saw what he first took to be a mirage. It turned out to be nothing more than a clay hobble, a strange thing to find in the middle of the desert, and before he could think about it, Camael saw that Lucifer turned his back to him and began to walk towards it.
"Morningstar!" the Powers commander called out, and when the fallen angel didn't respond, he reluctantly followed.
The doorway was yet again too low for them to enter properly, and when Camael ducked his head and slipped inside he saw that Lucifer was standing in a single room that made up the tiny hut. Scrolled and tablets littered the floor, along with clay bowls filled with leftovers of some sort of food. The stench about the place was almost unbearable. Then Camael saw that they were not alone. Seated cross-legged in the center of the room, was a man so old and withered that he looked as if the barest gust of wind could topple him. Raggs hung loosely on his thin frame, and his bony fingers clutched a tablet. He was chiseling something upon it, but a moment later he placed down his tools, apparently finished with his work.
"Welcome, Lucifer, son of the morning," the hermit turned one milky unseeing eye on the angels. "And welcome, Camael, leader of the Powers host. I have been waiting for you both. But," his one good eye focused on Lucifer, but the first of the fallen got the distinct feeling that he was looking through him rather than at him, and when the man spoke, it sounded like he was speaking to someone entirely different, someone not present among them in the flesh. "It is you I see in the future – you I write of now."
He turned over the tablet he was writing on and they saw words in a language older than even Hebrew. Upon closer inspection, Camael realized that it predated the Flood, though he had no idea how that was possible. " 'And the one shall come that will bring about the end f their pain, his furious struggle building a bridge between the penitent and what has been lost.' "
There was more on the tablet. Words of one who would emerge out of the union of a son of God and a daughter of man and bring forgiveness to those who have sinned against the Creator. Camael's face twisted in fury.
"Blasphemy," he hissed before kicking the tablet out of the seer's hands and bringing down his heel to crush the words upon it. He whirled to the man, who wordlessly looked up at him. "You speak herracy against the Almighty. The penalty for this is death."
The man appeared not to be bothered by his imminent demise. Instead he placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head so that shaggy silver hair cast his face into shadow. "I am honored to have met you both. Please do it quickly."
Camael was unnerved by the man's reaction, but a sword of fire sprang to life in his hands nonetheless. With one swift stroke, the hermit fell to the ground, lifeless. The Powers commander looked at his body for a moment before turning his face to the first of the fallen. Lucifer's expression was unreadable, but Camael knew that he had seen the writing on the tablet.
"Think nothing of his words, Morningstar. He was just a mad human," Camael retorted. "His insane dribble means nothing."
"There is a very fine line between insanity and honesty," Lucifer pointed out. "What if his vision was granted to him by the Malakim or some higher ranking Archangel? Gabriel, maybe?"
"He had no vision!" the Powers leader's hand sparked with heavenly fire as he whirled and struck the first of the fallen hard across the face sending him flying. Lucifer fell to the ground, breaking some of the stone tablets in the process, but he did not retaliate. At this point, there was no reasoning with Camael.
The stale air in the cave was suddenly stirred with a gust of wind from the opening, and Camael took a deep steadying breath before emerging to meet his troops. He didn't bother to look back at the dead human or the Morningstar. The Powers greeted him with a salute. He turned to his second-in-command.
"Report," he noticed that his own tone seemed harsher than usual but pushed the thought aside. "Is the mission complete?"
"It is. The Egyptian prince lays dead at the feet of their idol, Anubis," Verchiel replied triumphantly, then looked past Camael. "What of the Morningstar?"
Their leader glanced back over his shoulder and met Lucifer's gaze. Those eyes that seemed to say that he knew what was about to happen and he didn't blame the angel for it.
"Do what you will with him," Camael knew that the spilling of more blood – even the Morningstar's blood – was needless, but he was blinded by anger simply did not have the strength bring himself to care for the fallen angel's fate at the hands of his own soldiers. As he walked past the cowed of Powers that slowly converged on their prey, he heard Lucifer's voice softly calling out to him.
"My only hope for you, Camael, – my only hope for all my brothers – is that you don't become a monster like me."
Camael wanted to stop, to turn around and call his troops back, but he knew he couldn't, so he did nothing, but in the furthest corner of his mind, a thought began to stir that frightened him more than any foe he'd ever faced. It was a tiny voice that seemed to grow ever so slowly. Do we have a right to call him 'monster'? Are we really that much better?
Flying
all across the highlands,
searching for a way
to finalize my
history.
Rising high above the mountains,
reaching for the
sky
closer to my sanctuary.
All my life I've been trying to
die,
reach complete segregation.
I am ready to open my eyes
to
a new revelation.
Author's End Note: I know that the story of the seer is not the same as it is in the books but I took a bit of creative license here, but the end result is still the same. The angel, Bayleth, that Camael sent to look out for the Hebrews is the same angel that later defected from the Powers and who Verchiel killed in Ukraine in the first book. I figured since he changed later on, I should give him a less violent mission to begin with. Also, Ariel, is (at least according to my research) a real fallen angel of the order of Virtues. The main reason I used him here though is because Kamelot (my favorite band who's song I'm using in the title) has two CDs called Epica and the Black Halo which tell a Faust-like story where the two main tragic heroes are Ariel and Helena. Camael's story is loosely based on the story told about them in those two CDs. Part III coming soon to wrap things up.