The Din Passages

Prologue

His vicious rant, ran and spewed from his lips. Dripped from his tongue. It encompassed his hands and guided the point of his blade. He wielded, Fotias, his spear. Which found mark after mark, heart after heart. Plunging and tearing the very fabric of the essence, of those who were considered his brethren. His family. Those he held closest, found a quick demise. Efficient and painless. For others, his pride blinded him, and his spear pierced belly and punctured rib. Their deaths would be slow and drawn-out. Their very life blood, leached from their bodies as they clutched their wounds and nursed their grace. Such was his vision. To reward and to punish. To give and to take. Few would perish before him, without hearing his mighty roar, which rang out like a bell that tolled for his enemies. He was as dragon, and he instilled dread in the warriors he chose to cut down.

Little did he know, his every move, from the pivot of his torso, to the thrust of his arm, were being watched from afar. Observed from his mighty twin Michael. Who like his brother, fought against his very family. The angels who once stood side by side, united in their reason. Bathing in fulfillment of an existence knowing nothing but acceptance. No. Now the very heavens, became bathed in blood. Starlight pierced out from their veins, and silver life, coursed from their wounds.

With his face twisted in a visage of torment and duty, Lucifer arched his mighty weapon, his vision narrowed, his lips caught in a snarl of plague. His passion rose, into an assault of anarchy and precision. Fotias, pierced and retracted, angel after angel, plummeted from the sky. His wrath knew no end, his cruelty no bounds.. No, this was war. And his was the way of the warrior.

Aheleon, swung his mace from his vantage point, high in the skies of paradise, making contact with rebel after rebel, breaking bone and marring flesh. As a falcon dives. And as did he. With great speed and worthy might. Lucifer glanced towards Aheleon, and deciphered the angels maneuver. And so Lucifer positioned himself, ready for a parry. And parry he did. Aheleon’s mace deviated to high right, as Fotias rang true to the counter. The mace Aheleon wielded, nearly crushed his own chin. Yet, the angel was not without caution and he weaved to Lucifer’s left. He continued his assault. Lucifer scoffed, at such an attempt.

The glare of an eternal sun shone brilliantly in the heavenly skies. The clamor of battle resounded, throughout the peaceful realm. Aheleon saw it then, as the silver sun blinded his vision. He had no time to react, the blur of movement was that precise. Lucifer had struck him. Aheleon felt his wound burst forth with silver blood. Blood, his heart ached to push from his body. He knew then that the ferocity, the unfailing, unmerciful angel, his once mentor had become.. And so while clutching his neck, he descended from his place in the sky. And twirled on his plummet, as his wings lost their strength, and could beat no more. His vision settled onto Lucifer as his vision hazed. He noticed how his former mentor spared no moment in continuing his assault. No second was given to consider his former student, and the bond they so cherished.. Aheleon, knew then; All was lost for Lucifer. Tormented in his sensibilities. He was now marred. Possessed by a notion of freedom, that was not only foreign to angels, but harmful and destined for dereliction.

Aheleon’s feathers were unhinged, like scattering leaves and cascaded over his battling brethren. The freefall was terrifying, and its implications dreadful. Truly this was a war of no remorse or understanding of leniency. No, here and now, the crusade of Lucifer’s cause meant nothing short of total dominion.

Lucifer’s focus was now entrenched forwards. His attention drawn towards, Michael. Who was not more than 50 yards from where Lucifer flew. The twins knew each other well. They had reciprocated their ties and bond, over eons that span into forever. Theirs was a union, unknown to most angels. They were true twins, true brothers, birthed from a single flame. They were mirrored in their virtuosity; towards battle and towards peace. Yet now, the latter prevailed, and so it was war.

Michael’s sword, Arimea, found mark after mark. Plunge after arc, after swing after thrust. His eyes were doused in remorse, as parry and shield found Michael’s blade. Regret bathed him with each deathblow. Each senseless strike laid heavy in his diamond heart.

Then, came Azien, flying directly towards Michael, and intercepting his path. His daggers were quick, and a succession of blows marked over Michaels skin. Azien preferred, the precision daggers offered, yet was also adept with his great sword, which was slung behind him. Michael soared ever upwards, separating himself, from the heat and pressure of Azien’s assault. Azien’s purple wings beat with the fervor of a dwindling star. Attempting desperately at keeping pace with Michael’s remarkable speed. Azien’s face was stern, yet great pleasure marked his hands, that were tight at his flank. His gleaming daggers, dripping with Michaels amber blood that sparkled in the presence of the silver sun.

The city below was vacant. Deserted. The cobble stone pathways, silver towers, roads and humble dwellings, held no residents. No, the high heavens held a call to arms, and all angels. Female and male, both answered that call; out of necessity. Out of duty.

None would know tranquility. None would know peace. Not until the rebels and the defilers, withdrew and surrendered. Yet one would see the folly of such a judgment, for the defiance of one third of the angelic host, was no simple flame of discord. No this was a blaze that roared and enveloped the hearts and minds of even the most studious of angel. This was the rumble of true allegiance to Lucifer, and his propaganda against the looming threat that, mankind represented. The awful reality, was nothing short of total victory for the rebels, this would satiate their taste for war. And with victory came the realization and only truth. That angels are the supreme entity of the universe. Not humans. For they were paltry embers compared to the supreme light that the angelic kind epitomized.

Azien was quick to follow Lucifer’s call for change. An alteration to Fathers plan. And though some would label them insane for such notions.. They firmly stood against all that, Father, required of them; utter and total compliance… Total servitude. No. Not him. Lucifer was too great of an entity to ever kneel. To ever humble himself to a lesser creation.

Now, as Michael rose and rose, ascending the infinite sky of paradise, Azien sneered with derision. He fastened his grip around his daggers, named Trent and Douse. And as he followed Michael, he let out a mock of hideous laughter. Michael ceased his flight then, almost suspended in mid-air, seemingly floating, as if his great haste was just now catching up with him. He was weightless, yet carried the stone of humanity on his shoulders. He shifted his mass forwards, and tucked his wings back. With great swiftness, he dove. Dour and sword ready in hand. Azien, furious with purpose, did not dawdle, nor relinquish his speed. It was then, that Urbiel, hungry in his taste for fame, flanked Michael to his left. And Asteril, seeking validation in his prowess, flanked Michael to his right. The three generals, Lucifer enlisted, were now converging, poised and positioned, to take on the universes greatest warrior. Michael.

That is when it started, solemn at first, like a summer drizzle. It was warm and welcoming. The silver sun shone, as the sprinkle cascaded and putted over; armor and skin, sword and shield. None had noticed. It was the entrenching reality of war. The drizzle, that seemed so very tame, with its somber notes and pleasant insinuations, began to gather strength. Heavy beats of fat rain, pounded over wing and halo. It seemed ever so doubtful, that one would notice rain fall as gleaming weapon and stout armor encompassed all your vision. But this rain was different, it grieved and wept, as if the din of wails accompanied its gravity.

The heavens roared with fury, as thunder tolled and spread, like fingers in the darkness. The thunder rang with such force, that all who battled and all who were engaged in the fits of combat had ceased. They froze. The defenders. The rebels. All seemingly struck with paralyses. The reverberations rolled over their backs and down their spines. None moved. None blinked. Only the beating of angel wings, befitted the silence. The hush, of whispering feathers, followed each other in tandem.

That is when the second splintering crack, broke thought the hush of angel flight. Every angel, from every sphere. From every choir. From Lucifer to Michael. Winced then. The thunder spewed with such force, that all angels felt the slap of the sonic clap. That is when the sky rolled into black. Not grey, nor slate, nor ivory or ash.. No. The sky was as tar.. Lantern black. No sun, no star. Nor musing thoughts of joy could be found in such a sky.

The gloom, of the ever present threat of weapon and arm, were overshadowed by the grim veil that promised nothing but heartache. The hush was palpable. That is when, the torrential downpour, shuddered from the boundless celestial empyrean.

And so, rainfall drenched all thought and impulse, where angel against angel, held no more weight. That all were equal. That none intended to spill blood, and scar their brothers or their sisters. That is when his voice pierced through the blackness of inevitability.

Now brethren, while they stand.. Strike now. His finger pointed outward, and chin held high. Lucifer commenced though the lull of peace, and began the rage of combat once more. And, in such an instance, as rain smacked skin, the angelic rebels raise arms, and embraced the initiative. They grimaced, and with not a blink to spare, they began their onslaught.

The silence broke, as weapon met flesh, and steel met steel. The clang and sounds of war permeated the skyscape. Rumbles and shouts, commands and groans. Cries of pain and the sounds of loss, drenched the quiet skies in the foreign reality of the first war in all creation. Agony collided with mortality. That angels may die, that the eternal flame of their essence may be doused.

That is when Michael, veered to his right, and met with the angel known as Azien who fluttered forwards. He was accompanied by Asteril and Urbiel. Azien spoke. Three against one, Michael. Odds are in our favor.

Be quick then Azien. Arimea awaits, with solemn words. Michael responded, holding Arimea’s hilt in both hands.

We shall be quick to respond. Azien sneered. Holding his daggers and pointing towards Michaels heart.

SO be it cowards. So be it. Michael responded with, serenity and honor. His wings beating, his stance ready, Arimea coursed with energy, Lighting crawled up and down her blade. Michael positioned himself. His left shoulder leaning his blade inches from his face. His eyes focused on the three generals. His face stern. Whenever you’re ready.

Lucifer grunted, and let out deep solemn breaths with the fluidity of his lunges, as blood arched before him, and landed over his face and chest. Retraction and thrust. His arm, making screw like motions, increasing the strength and rapidity of each devastating attack. His long black hair matted against his armor, caked in the viscera of the defending angels. His chest billowed with pride, as his arm threw itself back, and back again. In a perfect straight line, it plunged into the throat of an unfortunate angel. The angel dropped his sword, and placed palm over his deadly wound, he gurgled as blood spewed forth from his mouth. Lucifer struck again, this time, targeting the angels heart. It pierced blessed armor, effortlessly, like rose pedals dancing in gusts of a storming wind. Fotias surged with flame, that coursed from the tip of its blade. Engulfed with the rage of Lucifer’s hate. Angels fell with the synergy of Lucifer’s attacks, which seemed to roll, as a boulder skips down a hill. He made a 360 degree turn; Fotias at his waist. And out the spear thrust from his side to his enemy’s chest and once again retracted. Blood shooting from the wound, and landing on Lucifer’s lips. The flame of his defiance, surged within his being, as he imbibed angel blood.

Lucifer was then faced with his former comrade, Aleton. Who swooped from the heights of the vast skies and wielded a mighty spear. Orange hair ran back over his shoulders. His emerald eyes, penetrated even the most solemn heart and filled it with hope. His face was gentle and kind. He engaged Lucifer, placing himself as a barricade between the rebel and the defending angels. Surely he would engage Lucifer’s reason, appealing to his tolerance and friendship. Yet one look at the rebels’ eyes and such impressions melted away. Aleton was certain, this was no angel. Lucifer now engorged with pride, drawing his strength from his own vision, of what reality was destined to be.

And so Aleton, wielded his spear, handling its arcs and balance with great care. Lucifer parried with metal tip and the shaft of his spear. The dance of strike and evasion, went on. Aleton, grabbed his spear in both hands, over his head, its tip arching downwards towards Lucifer’s heart. His wings folded behind him, he exhaled, and let loose a cry of war.. He plunged his mighty spear, forwards, an aquiline strike. Yet, Lucifer scoffed and held Aleton’s spear tip in his left hands. Silver blood trickled from his palm, down his forearm, and washed away quickly in the torrential rain fall; which was pounding, like a bass drum. Lucifer brought Fotias forwards and nicked Aleton’s jugular. Arterial spray burst forward, like a fan of moon light. He clasped the wound with his right hand, dropping his spear, as life drained from his body. Blood erupted from his somber lips. Sam-Samael.. How?

Lucifer looked fondly at his brother. I’m sorry old friend. His forehead touched Aleton’s forhead. This is a means to an end. And