Depraved himself. The Battle was a diversion, a sham. We slaughtered everyone who truly Believed. So we could... use it against your side. Their Belief.” The angel shuddered and hugged himself tighter. “During the battle itself, we used the fighting as a diversion so we could draw out all of it that we possibly could. From the entire world. All of it that was compatible with us. We've been cultivating it for... centuries, I guess. So we'd have enough ammunition to do what – what Michael said we were going to do.”
Lucien had forgotten that he was supposed to be examining Lalael's wings. He sat there behind the angel, still and quiet. He knew, suddenly. He knew what was going to happen. He knew what Lalael was going to say.
“ The plan was to drain the world of all traces of the Zhani, and feed it into Síela –” another aspect of the Sko Meala, “– until it overflowed and... and it would be the rawest, most deadly form of the Power ever, and we were going to pour it back through the gate and let it loose over the world. He said it would rain down on the earth like poison; it would burn the air; it would fill the entire dimension in an instant. It would dissolve everything like acid, or infect it like a disease. The Honored Commander said this Creation would burst under the force of it.”
Lucien reached out to touch Lalael's shoulder, then hesitated. A long moment passed. He shook his head. “Let's see what I can do with these wings.”
“ It won't matter,” Lalael whispered. “It won't matter. We're going to die soon.”
Lucien clenched his teeth.
***
Some time later, Lucien sat back with a satisfied sigh. “There, see, just this bone here dislocated and a little bit of a sprain.” Lucien said, smoothing the downy feathers at the base of one wing and straightening the scapulars. “Wasn't too terrible bad, was it? Just go easy on it for a while and you'll be alright.” Lalael pulled away and adjusted his tunic, tucking away his wings again efficiently. Lucien held up his hands and backed off. “Just asking. How did it happen, anyway?”
“ They stood on them,” Lalael said bluntly.
“ Who?”
“ Those demons. A bunch of them rushed me and wrestled me to the ground and stood on them.”
“ ...Oh.”
“And I was struggling, so one of the frog things fetched a Fallen and the Fallen was about to slash open my throat, when someone else came and fought them off. Just like Arael would have.”
“Who's Arael?”
“She... one of my...” Lalael's shoulders slumped. “My friend. She was... She was just Arael. Always laughing, red hair, blue eyes. She was one of the choir. Some of them signed up for the infantry at the last minute. In all the rush, I don't know if she...” Lalael failed to notice Lucien's shiftiness. “She'll be wandering around the Gates or the Silver Court, wondering where I am.” Lalael's laugh was strange. “She'll forget about looking for me after a week or so. She's a bit absent minded. I mean –" here Lalael looked at Lucien eagerly, "– her memory's unparalleled, it's the little tasks she forgets about. And... she's busy. Popular, you know?"
"Well, there's no point in worrying about her," Lucien said. The skin up his spine prickled. "Until you get back to Ríel."
Lalael's face suddenly darkened, and a sullen silence settled over them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lalael had never really thought much about what the inside of a demon's home would look like, but if he had, he certainly wouldn't have imagined that it contained a cat. So the cat was, in fact, called Antichrist, which made up for it, but it was soft and didn't seem terribly vicious: When Lucien had opened the door, the cat had come running out of another room yowling and wound around his ankles until he'd stumbled.
Admittedly, the name was not as surprising
Lucien had forgotten that he was supposed to be examining Lalael's wings. He sat there behind the angel, still and quiet. He knew, suddenly. He knew what was going to happen. He knew what Lalael was going to say.
“ The plan was to drain the world of all traces of the Zhani, and feed it into Síela –” another aspect of the Sko Meala, “– until it overflowed and... and it would be the rawest, most deadly form of the Power ever, and we were going to pour it back through the gate and let it loose over the world. He said it would rain down on the earth like poison; it would burn the air; it would fill the entire dimension in an instant. It would dissolve everything like acid, or infect it like a disease. The Honored Commander said this Creation would burst under the force of it.”
Lucien reached out to touch Lalael's shoulder, then hesitated. A long moment passed. He shook his head. “Let's see what I can do with these wings.”
“ It won't matter,” Lalael whispered. “It won't matter. We're going to die soon.”
Lucien clenched his teeth.
***
Some time later, Lucien sat back with a satisfied sigh. “There, see, just this bone here dislocated and a little bit of a sprain.” Lucien said, smoothing the downy feathers at the base of one wing and straightening the scapulars. “Wasn't too terrible bad, was it? Just go easy on it for a while and you'll be alright.” Lalael pulled away and adjusted his tunic, tucking away his wings again efficiently. Lucien held up his hands and backed off. “Just asking. How did it happen, anyway?”
“ They stood on them,” Lalael said bluntly.
“ Who?”
“ Those demons. A bunch of them rushed me and wrestled me to the ground and stood on them.”
“ ...Oh.”
“And I was struggling, so one of the frog things fetched a Fallen and the Fallen was about to slash open my throat, when someone else came and fought them off. Just like Arael would have.”
“Who's Arael?”
“She... one of my...” Lalael's shoulders slumped. “My friend. She was... She was just Arael. Always laughing, red hair, blue eyes. She was one of the choir. Some of them signed up for the infantry at the last minute. In all the rush, I don't know if she...” Lalael failed to notice Lucien's shiftiness. “She'll be wandering around the Gates or the Silver Court, wondering where I am.” Lalael's laugh was strange. “She'll forget about looking for me after a week or so. She's a bit absent minded. I mean –" here Lalael looked at Lucien eagerly, "– her memory's unparalleled, it's the little tasks she forgets about. And... she's busy. Popular, you know?"
"Well, there's no point in worrying about her," Lucien said. The skin up his spine prickled. "Until you get back to Ríel."
Lalael's face suddenly darkened, and a sullen silence settled over them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lalael had never really thought much about what the inside of a demon's home would look like, but if he had, he certainly wouldn't have imagined that it contained a cat. So the cat was, in fact, called Antichrist, which made up for it, but it was soft and didn't seem terribly vicious: When Lucien had opened the door, the cat had come running out of another room yowling and wound around his ankles until he'd stumbled.
Admittedly, the name was not as surprising
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