If this was what her purpose constituted, then that purpose was an insult of celestial proportions; a sacrilege of dimensional magnitude. The thought made Luciel so sick in her core that she turned around to puke. But she was in Celestia and certain tendencies on Earth had no place in Celestia. Puking and spitting were a few examples. Luciel cursed out loud. So, instead, she summoned her wings and flapped them several times until she felt ‘better’. But feeling better was not enough! She wanted, no she NEEDED, a solution and ‘feeling better’ was not even close to a solution. To what, was the big question, though. Luciel summoned a chair and collapsed into it.
She sparked the ethers into a dagger in her left hand and started tossing it in the air and catching it repeatedly. Her mind was blank and her domain was alive with silence. When she got bored with the dagger-tossing ritual, Luciel threw the dagger in a sudden fit of anger into a target she summoned on the wall. The dagger hit the bull’s eye before disappearing along with the target. She was livid beyond belief. At what, she did not know. She wished she was back in a war zone. The sight and smell of blood, the last spark of life in the enemy’s eyes before their lives expired at the edge of her blade, the screams of pain, victory and death from the chaos all around her and many other things were always a panacea to a certain feeling that bubbled within her every single time.
Fakud was right. Why fight it? Why resist it? It was evident that she felt more alive in Wazimud’s body than she did in Celestia. In Wazimud’s body, she felt invincible, especially during battles. Though Nimrud was their leader, she did a lot more at the battlefront than many of the soldiers combined; she did better than even Nimrud was willing to admit. She had been the one who had won many of his battles for him, but he had stolen her glory. Lord Nimrud! She wished she could kill him with her bare hands, but fate had done the job for her already. He had left for some trip or whatever and had never returned. The guards who had accompanied him returned with ‘sad news of his sudden death under mysterious circumstances’. News of his death had been received with mixed feelings.
It had taken a while but Luciel had concluded that there were certain things about Fakud that did not sit right with her. She had been as careful and covert as possible. Luciel did admire the fact that Fakud was phenomenal at bending the truth to suit his purpose. He had not lied to her, but he had not been entirely truthful either. More so, he was far more adept at the game of words and covertness. Finally, she had given up and confronted him head-on, demanding the he tell her the truth about himself or she would put their relationship to an end. When Fakud had conceded to her demands, what she had heard left her even more perplexed than she had been before.
However, their relationship had changed a lot after that fateful day. Fakud maintained his human form and she had kept his secret safe. Besides, she did not have any friends with whom she could share such information. It was better that way. Fakud had been a superb mentor to her. Fakud, or The Scribe as he said he was also called, had opened her eyes to the notion of purpose and free will.
***
“There is no law that warrants you to succumb to a pre-existing status quo,” Fakud had said. “Who determines these status quos, anyway? And what makes them think they have the right, or authority, to do so?”
Luciel recalled being seduced by the passion in Fakud’s eyes and the wisdom of his words. She recalled the stirring in her being then as the memory of those words generated the same stirring within her now.
“Purpose is a concept designed for those who refuse to forge their paths for themselves!” Fakud had said. “Purpose is for the weak!”
Fakud’s eyes had bored into her being and Luciel, in Wazimud’s body, was hypnotized by the fire in them.
“If you want something, go for it!” he had continued. “And if it is not given to you, then there is always the option of taking it! After all, free will is for the strong! And in Creation, only the strong survive.”
Luciel, in Wazimud’s body, was nodding to the wisdom of Fakud’s words. She recalled similar words spoken by one she was essentially intimate with: Emok.
“I purvey purpose to those who are willing to accept it,” Fakud, or The Scribe, said. “But the purpose I give does not make them weak. It makes them stronger and better than their peers are. It elevates them to heights greater than they can ever imagine. And this I do willingly, out of free will; MY will. I am Chaos and I will bend Creation to MY will.”
“Let me join you, Fakud!” Wazimud had begged. “Please! I will do anything you ask of me. Just let me be a part of your plan for Creation!”
Wazimud had fallen to her knees and held Fakud’s ankles in supplication.
“Please,” Wazimud begged.
“Rise, Luciel!” The Scribe had commanded.
Luciel had risen to her feet.
“You are, indeed, worthy of my plan for your dimension,” he had said. “I will make you my agent of Chaos in Lemuria. Do you swear your allegiance to me?”
“I swear!” Luciel had responded.
The Scribe had seen Luciel’s wings of light spread from her shoulder blades. But as Wazimud, Luciel was unaware this was happening. The Scribe smiled.
“You shall become the bearer of the light of Chaos in your dimension,” The Scribe declared. “And as the bearer of the light of Chaos, you will be my agent of destruction in Lemuria. My hand will be upon you and victory will be yours!”
Luciel, in Wazimud’s body, had touched Fakud’s feet with her head.
“May your will be done through me… master!” Luciel declared.
***
By Celestia, Luciel wanted to be Number One. She wanted to be archangel supreme! She wanted to take Celestia to higher heights, to shake the status quo, to free everyone from a system that kept them limited. She wanted to give every angel and archangel a new meaning to purpose. Purpose is supposed to be self-made, self-decided, self-instituted and most of all, self-desired. Purpose should be what one wanted and not what one was given. Purpose should empower, not imprison! Free will should be free and without constraints. All these things, purpose and free will, good and bad, order and chaos, should be working FOR one; not the other way around. Order, harmony and balance can only truly exist if there are no restraints on free will and purpose.
And now, the ‘We’ creatures of the prophecy had spoken. Yes, even the ‘We’ creatures seemed to be agreeing with her. It was clear, to Luciel at least, that the prophecy was written for her and to her. She was aware of the fact that she was aligning with the darkness and no, she was not afraid of it. She embraced it and she befriended it; no harm in sight, and no harm experienced. Michael was too soft and that would be his weakness when she decided to make her move. Emok was right, Fakud was right and her willpower was also unshakeable. She will not let this slip by, but she had to be wise and fierce about her takeover. Once she began, there would be no turning back. She saw it all in her mind and the thought of it made her extremely warm in the nether regions. She would soon have to teleport back to her lover’s domain.
What a waste! Michael would have been such a formidable ally. But alas, she knew there was no way in Celestia that Michael would agree with her vision, let alone team up with her. As such, there was only one possible outcome; WAR! Yes, existences would be ended. Many of her brethren would perish, but their ends would only serve as the foundation stones for the new Celestia she was going to build. She needed an army. Recruitment would be tricky but everything was possible. Fakud, or The Scribe, had assured her that he would always be there to lend a helping hand, should she ever need him to. After all, they both agreed on many things; the only difference between the two of them was the scale and magnitude of their vision and the lengths to which they both were willing to go through to achieve it. Free will was a bitch!
Luciel mentally made a short list of those she would certainly not bother herself with; archangels like Raphael, Gabriel, Malichiel and most of all Uriel. That bitch! Luciel smiled evilly. She had been using this Eart
h Realm term a lot, she observed. It sounded good to the ears and felt good to say it too. It was also an appropriate term, she realized. It did not matter whether one was human, angel, Necheru or Shemsu. The term was appropriate wherever it was used! Luciel returned to making her short list of angels and archangels she would not bother to recruit. These brethren of hers had ‘Loyalty to Michael’ inscribed into the very fiber of their Celestial essences. What a bunch of weaklings, anyway! She turned around to spit and remembered she could not. So, she opted for a few expletives she had learned during her stay in Earth Realm; and they felt good to say.
She thanked the ‘We’ in the prophecy for the sign. She thanked The Scribe for opening her eyes. She thanked Michael for the motivation to be better. She thanked Emok for sowing the seed of a tainted essence. Luciel rose from the seat as it disappeared into the floor. She summoned her wings, flapped them a few times, dismissed them and heaved her shoulders. War was coming and she was fired up! Speaking of being fired up, the stirring in her nether regions grew more intense. She would let it build before making her trip over to Michael’s domain. On second thought, she decided she would teleport over to his domain at once.
Luciel could have sworn the archangel supreme had some super archangelic sensory perception or something. His naked body was sprawled casually on his bed and his eyes were closed. His face was calm, and his body was relaxed. Luciel shuddered with sheer, unadulterated excitement at the expectation of an even more unadulterated erotic frenzy that was to come. She walked slowly towards his bed as she made her garments disappear into nothingness. She saw him extend and become as rigid as the columns in his domain. Enough with the walking; she teleported and crashed unto his pelvis. And yes, Luciel also had something to thank Michael for; freaking amazing sex! Yes, freaking amazing sex! She could only hope she was going to find another angel or archangel as good as Michael was in bed after she finally got to end him and his reign.
CHAPTER THIRTY
RECRUITMENT
“DO YOU HAVE a moment?” Luciel asked as she glided towards Zukael.
Zukael stopped walking and waited for Luciel to join him. He was heading for the Hall of Records. He had some studying to do. Luciel joined him on his promenade. They could have teleported to the Hall of Records, but sometimes, walking was a fun activity.
“How are you doing, my friend?” Luciel asked.
Zukael lifted his left arm over her head and held her by the shoulder. Luciel slipped her right arm around his waist.
“Doing well, my friend. Thanks,” Zukael replied. “Something about you has changed. I would like to blame it on the fall, unless there’s something else you’d like to share with me?”
“Very perceptive of you, my dear friend,” Luciel said. “I’m glad you noticed. I’ll tell you everything later, okay.”
Zukael smiled and kissed the crown of her head and there was something different about the way he did it this time, as if it was an invitation from him for her to trust him with whatever she wanted to share. Luciel got his message. She had made up her mind to share her vision with Zukael. She was confident he would see what she saw, if he did not already have a similar vision of his own. So, why was she hesitating now? Why the doubt? Why was she afraid she may have been wrong about Zukael after all? If you want something, go for it! Fakud had said. Luciel heaved her shoulders, walked a step ahead of Zukael and stopped.
Luciel lifted her eyes and met his. Those eyes! By Celestia, he had the most knee-buckling eyes she had ever seen in Celestia and Earth Realm. Luciel reached with her left hand and gently touched Zukael’s cheek. Then, Luciel let her hand slide to his hard, sculpted chest. She was burning with desire, with longing, that had nothing to do with seduction. She let her left palm rest on his chest, as if she was trying to perceive something… something that burned in those golden eyes of Zukael’s… something that radiated with the passion of one who wanted more. And as Luciel held Zukael’s gaze, she found a kindred spirit. It was a moment of unspoken comprehension and resonance between the two archangels. A bond was forged at the tributary of their visions. Zukael broke the silence.
“So, when do you plan on telling me?” he asked.
“Would now be a good time?” Luciel asked.
Zukael veered them off the track leading to the Hall of Records and towards an open and public area. The area had a beautiful fountain summoned from a gray, marble-like material, ejecting golden light in various patterns. They walked hip-to-hip across the open space and chose a spot under a tree-like structure to the left made of gold, with green gemstones as leaves and diamonds for floating, unattached fruits. Someone seemed to have borrowed some ideas from their fall to the lower realms. Michael was the prime suspect for the new addition to this area. Zukael summoned a bench near the trunk of the tree. The two friends sat on the bench and interlaced their fingers.
“What were you going to do at the hall?” Luciel asked.
“Just going to look for answers, maybe,” Zukael replied. “Wanted to look for information before I decide whether to fall or not.”
Luciel heard and listened to what Zukael was saying, as well as what he was trying to say. She decided to go for it.
“I can understand your hesitation, my friend,” Luciel said. “I hesitated a lot as well prior to my fall. But I am very glad I fell, not because of my experiences down there, but because I met someone who helped open my eyes. He helped strengthen my resolve and sharpen my focus.”
Luciel tightened her grip on Zukael’s hand. He did not mind. She had his complete attention now.
“Before I fell, I was strong,” Luciel continued. “But my strength was devoid of focus and resolve. My strength was only at the physical level. This man gave me strength of mind. He gave me purpose! Before my fall, I was restricted to the whims of preconceived notions of fate and purpose. But not anymore!”
Luciel met Zukael’s eyes. She wanted him to see the lust in them, the lust for something greater than who and what she already was. She wanted him to feel the fire in her being. She wanted to ignite his embers into an all-consuming fire.
“But now, I am free!” Luciel continued. “I am no longer on strings…. And because of that, I am stronger than you, or anyone else could ever imagine.”
She noticed Zukael nod in comprehension as she spoke and was motivated to continue.
“I want more, Zukael,” Luciel almost cried out. “I want an existence for my brethren in which we are free! And I mean TRULY free; free to choose our destinies, free to find our purpose, free to let free will reign supreme and free to be who we were created to be!”
“Angels…” Zukael concurred.
Luciel’s eyes lit up. She held Zukael’s face in her hands and planted a firm, closed-mouth kiss on his lips before hugging him tightly. It was not just about his choice of words: ‘angels’ instead of ‘guardians’. It was in the way he had said it; with honor, pride and the prospect of a glorious future to come. In that one word, Luciel could see that Zukael understood her and shared her vision. He wanted the same thing she wanted and in that moment of sheer joy, Luciel realized that no matter what happened next Zukael, her best friend, would become her most faithful and loyal ally. Zukael would be her right arm in leadership, in anarchy and in peace, until the end of their existences. She released Zukael from her hug and took his hands in hers. Zukael squeezed her hands and they smiled at each other.
“I am tired of being second, Zukael,” Luciel said. “Tired of not being able to exist to the fullest, tired of the mundaneness of our current existences. Change beckons and that beckoning is now. And that change must start from above! It must start with the present leadership. I know there is no way to convince Michael and hence, I am ready to do what I must.”
“If we cannot be given what we want, sometimes, we have to learn to take it,” Zukael added with unreserved conviction.
Luciel’s jaw dropped at Zukael’s statement. Did Emok also talk to Zukael? Or worse still, had The Scribe already contacted Zukael
?
I must stay on course. Luciel said to herself. I’ll worry about this later.
“I share your sentiments about Michael,” Zukael continued. “He may be our strongest and leader supreme. But he’s weak! He embraces the status quo and basks in the tranquility and bliss of monotony. This, to me, is the very definition of insanity. And so, my dear friend, I agree with you that the leadership of our brethren must change. Michael must be eliminated.”
Zukael sounded more convinced and focused than Luciel was, which was a pleasant and slightly concerning surprise to her. Something did not add up.
“We need a plan,” Luciel spoke with more enthusiasm than before. “Michael has his followers; loyal and true to him but-”
“But most of them are angels, younglings,” Zukael interjected.
Now, Luciel could not let Zukael’s statement go.
“How do you know this, my friend?” Luciel asked with caution.
“The moment has come to let you in on something, my dear friend,” Zukael replied. “You are not the only one who wants a change.”
Zukael smiled mischievously. Luciel’s eyes bulged in shock and excitement.
“By my wings!” Luciel exclaimed. “Are you serious, my friend? I never could have guessed or even suspected that you started recruiting already.”
“Then we must have done a great job keeping things secret,” Zukael replied.
It was his turn to handle the narrative.
“We, those who want a change in Celestia, knew we had no chance in convincing Michael to partake in the change we seek,” he said. “And given your intimate relationship with him, we did not know if you’d be sympathetic to our cause. We’ve been running secret campaigns for a while now and our numbers have been growing. We believe that Michael still knows nothing about our campaign for two reasons. Firstly, he hasn’t done anything about it and, secondly, you too were unaware of anything, until now.”
Celestial Crisis Page 26
