I bit back a curse as I hit the ground again, this time the impact enough to make my teeth rattle in my mouth. My shoulder hurt from where it had hit the dirt, but I knew I didn’t have any time to dwell on it. Instead, I rolled to the side as fast as I could. The foot that stamped down on the spot where my stomach had been just a second ago proved that I’d made the right choice. Without hesitation I swung the sword I still clutched in my hands at the foot, trying to catch it on the ankle, but it stepped back too quickly for my wild stroke to hit home.
No matter, I hadn’t thought I’d be able to hit in any case, the attempt had only been to get myself some room. Using the tiny break in my attacker’s assault I tried to scramble to my feet. ‘Tried’ being the operative word, because just as I got my feet under me, the tip of my foe’s wooden sword came down and struck me hard enough on the side of the neck that I could feel a welt starting to swell.
“And now you are dead, your head struck from your body and decorating the battlefield.”
I sighed in frustration, then winced in pain as I heaved myself up to a standing position. For a moment I was tempted to stab my sword into the ground again and use it as a leaning post, but my head was still ringing from the earful I’d received from Joan for disrespecting my weapon.
“You performed better, but you were too eager to regain your feet. When you are on your back like that, your priority should be to put as much distance between you and your foe as you can as fast as you can. There are ways to distance yourself even as you bring yourself up; I will show them to you later.”
I nodded, glad to hear some encouragement. Honestly, despite the way things had ended up I was quite pleased with myself. This last session had been one of my best ones yet. I hadn’t even lasted half a minute, but that was because Joan was holding back less now. I knew that I was a long way from her getting her to put any real effort into it, but any kind of progress was a good thing.
I tried to straighten up, but a twinge in my ribs made me wince. I didn’t think that there was anything broken, but given time I would most likely be sporting some truly spectacular bruises. Joan must have seen it though because her hand touched my shoulder and the now familiar sensation of her healing magic flowed into me.
“That will be enough for today. Get inside and cleanse yourself, then you can have what remains of the day to yourself, we shall have many things to get ready tomorrow.”
Right, tomorrow was the big day! It was crazy how fast time had passed. It had been more than a week since I got here, but it felt like only a couple of days.
I suppose most of that was due to how similar and intense those days had been. Each day I did the same thing, had gruelling training with Joan, got healed, ate a big meal, and then repeated it all twice more. Each day I worked myself to mental and physical exhaustion, then collapsed into bed and was out like a light. I was pushing myself harder than I ever had before. That was probably why the days were all just blurring together.
Sitting down on the dirt I let the blunted sword I was holding fall across my lap. This time last week the sword would have felt uncomfortably heavy, now though, I was familiar with the weight, used to swinging it around, to bracing it, to stabbing with it, to blocking with it. All that effort with it had left me familiar with its weight and shape in a way that I wouldn’t have thought possible before.
As I sat there and waited for my strength to return I kept thinking about how I’d missed the latest release of Divine Versus. Divine Versus was fun to read, a forum for people to discuss their opinions on the gods that had revealed themselves and how they thought they stacked up against each other. Even as the world was rocked by the returning Legends, it was a forum where such events were reduced to a safe form of entertainment.
Perhaps it was something like sticking your head into the sand, but it made things a bit easier to deal with. I suppose the fact that I lived in England, under the King’s protection, lent more than a bit to my sense of security.
Now . . . now I was no longer so apart from the tribulations of the world. In less than two days I was going to be a part of the craziness, not apart from it. Were my thoughts drifting to such trivial stuff just another way of avoiding having to think about it?
Uhhhh, when did my life get so complicated? Well, that was a stupid question, I damned well knew the exact moment when things had taken a turn for the . . . exciting. It was when I’d opened my front door and saw Joan standing there. I didn’t resent her for it, but I think some part of me resented the fact that I didn’t resent her if that made any sense. I had been ripped away from a life that might have been quiet and average, but which had also been mine, and which I had imagined as secure
As I dragged myself back into the farmstead I could hear Joan in the kitchen most likely heating some leftovers so that I could stuff myself again. I think that my stomach might have tried to growl at the thought, but the fact was that I was just too tired to care about being hungry. I could worry about that later, at that moment I just wanted to get to my room so I could rest on something more comfortable that the ground. It took more effort than I would have thought, but in the end, I got myself to my room and my bed.
Once I got there I didn’t so much lie down on my bed as I simply collapsed onto it.
I didn’t even bother to take my sweat-stained clothes off. Instead, I just fell onto the bed, my face burying itself into the pillows enjoying the sensation of not having to hold up my body weight. The clean bed sheets beneath me were cool against my skin, and I found myself lacking even the energy to roll over.
In the end, I think I must have dozed off because the next thing I was aware of was Joan was shaking my shoulder.
“-et up, Adam! Come on, you cannot go to sleep in your clothes like that, just look at the mess you have made of your sheets. Really now, get up, have a shower and get something to eat, then be sure to change those sheets before you return to sleep here tonight. It truly is a blessing that we have this new washing device.”
I’ve mentioned that I have a habit of generally going from asleep straight to awake without any of the in-between stages that seem to bother most people. That was the case on this occasion, as soon as Joan started to shake me awake.
The problem was that I really didn’t want to.
I didn’t want to wake up, I didn’t want to be aware, all I wanted to do was sink back into the blissful arms of sleep and forget about the world. I just pulled the bed sheets over my head and tried to will the resurrected saint to go away. I just wanted to go back to sleep, was that too much to ask for?
“Adam! I have some food prepared for you, but if you want any of it then you had best see to getting yourself cleaned up!”
It was at that point that my nose caught the scent of frying onions wafting up from the kitchen, and the words I had heard finally clicked into place in my mind. Had she mentioned food?
Any thoughts of staying in bed were rather rudely displaced as my stomach rumbled loudly, demanding to be filled. The noise was enough to bring my attention to my belly, and it was only at that point that I realized that I was hungry. No, calling it ‘hungry’ didn’t do the sensation of emptiness in me justice; I was famished, utterly damned ravenous.
Yeah, staying in bed really wasn’t on the cards anymore.
With a self-pitying moan, I threw off the sheets that I’d tried to cocoon myself in, blearily stared at Joan and voiced my demands in an accusing growl.
“Whatever you’ve made, I hope there’s lots of it.”
“I am certain what I have made will appease that beast in your belly.”
It was strange seeing the almost playful smile on her face since she was normally all business. She wasn’t harsh or uncaring though, she was just . . . unwavering. Whether it was training me, patrolling the area, cooking food or polishing her sword it was all done as part of her overall mission, and you could practically see the devotion in her every action. Humour and smiles weren’t unknown from her, they were just rare, rare enough that seeing her grin was enough to get me moving.
“Fine,” I agreed grumpily as I sat up. “See you downstairs in a bit?”
I was still rubbing the sleep from my eyes when I heard a soft chuckle from Joan as her footsteps left my room. It was a pleasant sound, almost musical. With the formal way that she spoke, never using contractions or any sort of slang, it was easy to miss just how nice a voice the resurrected soul had.
My mood took a turn for the better when I saw the plate of beautifully browned chicken breasts waiting for me on the table, adorned with French fried onions, and several herbs. Next to them was a large bowl of potato salad, some sort of pie that I didn’t recognize, and several steamed vegetables. The sight of it all was enough to make my stomach roar a demand for me to tuck in as soon as was humanly possible, but before heeding its demands I turned to face Joan.
“I . . .” I began, then paused as I realized what I was about to say. “I . . . I was about to say you were an angel from heaven, but I just realized that’s more of a statement of fact than a compliment!”
“I thank you for the compliment, Adam, but I am no angel, even though I can wield the power of one for a brief time.”
At a gesture from her, I sat down at the table, rattled off a quick grace, and started to heap food onto my plate. Feeling slightly awkward in the silence that had settled I paused in the process of shovelling food into my mouth and asked a question that had been bugging me for a while. I hadn’t asked until now because there always seemed to be something more important going on, but now things were a bit quieter, and Joan seemed to be in a good mood, so . . . why not?
“What’re angels like?”
The question had been one that had been bugging me more and more since I’d learnt that I was at least distantly related to one. Birimiel’s famous interview had done something to dispel some of the unknowns regarding the soldiers of Heaven, but there was still so much that wasn’t confirmed. It was known how the Nephilim bloodlines had come to be, it was known how strong the angels were, it was even known that they could fall, becoming creatures even viler than demons, but that was really it. Angels remained enigmatic.
During the centuries when the Legends had been in exile, angels had been willing to give up their power, memories, even their very selves, to live the lives of mortals. Surely that meant that there was something that could be held in common, something that could be understood.
My question seemed to catch Joan slightly by surprise because she paused for a moment her eyes weighing me up before replying.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you were in Heaven, right? What are angels like when they’re not out on duty? You know, when they’re not striking down the enemies of God, or protecting the innocent. What’re they like at home when they’re just . . . like people, you know?”
There was a pause as the resurrected soul seemed to be contemplating my question, and the fact that she did so made me think that the question might have a more complicated answer than I’d been expecting.
“Angels . . . there are similarities with humanity, but there are also many differences. In many ways, they have less in common with mortal men and women than the gods do, yet in other ways, they are closer to us.”
“We’re more like the gods than the angels? I don’t think I get it.”
“I believe this needs a bit more explanation,” Joan stated, leaning back in her chair a bit as she looked at me. “I believe it is a good thing that you have asked. This is important knowledge, and I am certain that it shall be of use to you in the future. What do you know of how the gods came to be?”
Alright, that had always been a complicated question, but these days it was even worse. With the aftermath of the Black Sun, there were loads of theories on just what the gods were. Doctor Julian Crawford’s published theory was currently the most accepted in the scientific community. But only among those that denied the existence of magic and insisted that the powers of the supernatural were manipulations of natural forces through as-yet-unknown methods. Most people paid more attention to info received from gods and angels that consented to interviews.
Me, I had seen enough weird stuff on the internet to think that either there were a lot of scientific rules that humanity hadn’t worked out yet, or magic could simply make physics cry in a corner whenever it wanted. Either way, I was going to listen to the explanation given by a god to the media, rather than a theory given by an academic that hadn’t spent more than ten minutes with one. So, I repeated what I could remember from that interview.
“The gods are reflections of either natural forces or aspects of civilization that have bonded with a divine being, right? So, Zeus is bound to the concept of the sky while Apollo is bound to things like music and medicine. But it’s kind of like the chicken and the egg problem, which comes first, the power they’re bonded to, or the god that binds to it.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “That is partially correct. The gods are reflections of certain forces, but at the same time they have existed as long as those forces have been in existence.”
Again, she paused, trying to gauge my reaction, I think.
“The act of initial universal creation is a good example,” She continued. “It was the Lord God that said, ‘Let There Be Light’ and gave rise to creation from nothingness. But both the nothingness before and the act of creation itself existed and left powerful reverberations in the universe that arose. Khaos of the Greeks, Brahma of the Hindus, both are examples of the Void from before Creation and the act of creation itself and have existed since those very events.”
“Wait, hang on a second,” I held up a hand in confusion. “So, some of the gods have been around since the universe began?”
“In a certain way,” Joan. “Their core principality, what I suppose one could call the foundation of their essence, has existed since the birth of the concept to which they are tied. However, their identity as their current selves, the selves that have the qualities of mankind, only became a part of them after the beliefs and thoughts of mortal man gave them definition.”
“So . . . humanity created the gods?”
It was a plot point used in many fantasy and science fiction stories, the notion that rather than the gods having created mankind, it was instead mankind that created the gods through their belief in them. Hearing that it might be real caught me by surprise. However, in response to my question the resurrected soul shook her head in denial.
“No. It would be more accurate to say that mortals awakened and defined the gods, nothing more. Their minds and personalities existed, but when humans believed in them they were given general form and mentality. They are also influenced by their bound concept, though the level of influence varied from one god to another.”
“But what about gods of more human stuff?” I asked. “Gods of music and craft, things that people invented? They wouldn’t have been hanging around since the creation of the universe.”
“Indeed,” she agreed. “Such deities were not of the primal gods that served as the ‘first generation’ but instead came later, or were those that reinvented themselves to take advantage of such changes. By being tied to aspects of mortal life they were able to draw more power from worship or gain more influence over mortals in one way or another tied to their domain.”
Again, she paused, taking a moment to sip some water before continuing.
“That is how the gods are closer to man than angels, in many ways. The gods are humanity written large. Humanity's power, their passions, their virtues, their flaws, all of them are a part of the gods at some level or another. Gods are the bridge between mortal life and the fundamental aspects of the universe, be they as all-encompassing as the Creation, or as simple as the art of music.
“Another thing that separates gods from the soldiers of Heaven is that deities are . . . natural parts of the world. Their existence is tied to the aspects of the mortal plane that humanity exists upon, things that mortals understand, such as the air or the sun.”
Well, that was interesting. I chewed on more chicken even as my mind mulled this new information over. It explained a great deal about how varied the gods were, how they claimed dominion and power over so many different aspects of the universe and across so many different cultures.
“So how are angels different?”
“Angels are not like gods in that they are not parts of the universe in the same way.” Joan paused for a moment, her eyes turning distant as she seemed to consider her words. “It is difficult to put into words. The gods are part of the world and the universe because they are tied to so many aspects of it, but the angels are more . . . removed. They are a part of the world, but their ties are to the High Heavens rather than the mortal plane, and this can be seen with ease.
“The angels are different for many reasons, but the thing you need to understand, Adam is that, unlike such creatures as mortals, gods and spirits, the angels were created for a specific purpose, and that purpose shaped their every aspect. More than that though, angels are more . . . I feel the word ‘uniform’ is the closest that comes to explaining it, than the gods. The natures and characteristics of deities vary wildly depending upon a multitude of factors such as the culture they are tied to, their domain of power, their origins, factors such as those. Angels do vary in that they have their personalities and specialities, but ultimately, they are all vastly more akin to one another than the various pantheons could ever hope to be.
“All angels were creatures of Heaven, air, light, healing and lightning being the predominant elements that they gravitate towards, though they are not limited to them. However, more important than their forms or powers are their minds and souls. Every angel is created with a fully matured mind, knowledge imparted to them by the Almighty and an absolute knowledge of their place and purpose in Creation. To an angel just born into the world things such as doubt or uncertainty are completely alien. This unshakable knowledge of themselves is something that no other beings in Creation possess, not even the gods themselves. Perhaps the only other beings that possess a comparable sense of purpose are the demons, but since their creation is always marred by pain and chaos they lack the same purity.”
Joan stopped speaking and gazed down at the table before her, her eyes not seeing the food laid out there, but instead focusing upon a distant memory.
“I spent centuries in the High Heavens. I studied under angels, was trained by them, was healed by them, was guided by them. There are angels I consider friends, angels that I respect, and angels that I fear. And yet, for all the time I spent with them, they are hard to fully understand. In Heaven, there is no flesh, but there is form, form enough that you can look into the eyes of an angel when you meet them.”
Her eyes came up and looked at me, those rich blue eyes intense.
“When you look into their eyes you can see dedication, compassion, resolve, all the things that you would expect from a soldier of the Almighty. But there is something else there, something bright and hard and shining beyond anything that you can imagine! You can see it, and you know with absolute certainty that that part of them is in no way human!”
The sudden tension of the moment was broken as she suddenly smiled.
“It is both frightening and beautiful in a way you could not imagine, but it is strange how swiftly you grow accustomed to seeing it. Do not worry, Adam, strange though they might be, the First Children of God are . . . good, never forget that! It is built into them, after all.”
“So how do angels Fall then, if they’re built to be good?”
That was a question that the world wanted to know, but which had remained a mystery. There were all sorts of rumours on the internet, theories and gossip that ran from believable to crazy. It was known that some sort of sin was the cause of an angel Falling, but the exact nature and the severity of such sins were unknown.
Could Joan tell me?
“Despite what might be said of them, angels are not perfect, Adam.” She said that with a slightly sad note to her voice, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she had been disappointed when she got to Heaven and learnt that. “Angels feel emotions as you or I do, though they are filtered by the differences in their mental structure. Angels Fall because sometimes they encounter a situation where they feel something to the point where they are unable to handle it. If the emotion they feel is too contrary to the basis of what it means to be an angel, then there is a . . . reaction.
“You have to understand; angels are not built in the same way that mortal beings are. For beings like . . . us, the mind is tied to the body. This is natural, a product of us having to exist in this world without being dependent upon any supernatural elements. Angels are different, their minds are tied far more closely to their souls, and their souls make up a large portion of their bodies due to them being primarily spiritual beings. What happens . . . there is no good word for it. It is a trigger, a breaking, a changing, a contamination, a chain reaction, it begins small, then grows until it overwhelms them, changing both who and what they are.
“As for what causes it, to understand that you need to understand how the soul is marked by the sins of life.
“At that moment you would only have been able to drag me away if you’d hit me over the head with something pretty damned big and heavy. Even if I wasn’t an academic, these were the sorts of questions that people had been crying out for answers to since the reality of the supernatural had become known. Knowing this, well, who hasn’t had thoughts about how the universe was set? Who wouldn’t want to know for certain about the rules heaven worked by?
“When mortals sin, it leaves a mark upon the soul,” She explained. “With small sins, it is only a small mark, but the greater the sin then the greater the mark. For mortals these marks are a part of life, we go through our days accumulating thousands of tiny marks that are just a part of being alive. The envy we feel when we see someone richer or comelier than ourselves, the anger at someone rude, the gluttony of eating more than we need to simply because it tastes good, these are all just parts of life, as natural as breathing. We accumulate these just as we do marks for our kindnesses and our forbearances, thus making a record of our lives.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“There are elements of the belief of karma in it, in that our deeds weigh us down, but the actual process that follows our death depends upon which beliefs one followed in life. Even in their exile from the mortal plane, the various pantheons saw to the souls that were attributed to them, though most fell under the purview of the High Heavens.
“Angels possess free will and free thought, so it is possible for them to sin. Unfortunately, for them, even minor sins are not minor things, since their souls are so entwined with their minds they can feel them, like rashes upon their skin, open sores, or mosquito bites. As a result, angels are far more able to avoid sinning in almost any way, though God is understanding of small failings when they must work upon the world. However, when they sin too grievously it is all too easy for them to be swept away in the tide of emotions that normally accompany such an event. Angels are . . . unused to dealing with such depths of emotions, and they can be dragged along by them, losing sight of self-control or moderation.
“In this state, they are spiritually vulnerable, and it is possible for the sin that taints them to spread like wildfire, consuming them and . . . remaking them, is the best way to put it. An angel overtaken by their sin will lose their connection to the High Heavens due to their nature having shifted to the point that maintaining the connection could prove dangerous to the Heavens themselves. This loss causes further mental and spiritual upheaval, which can lead to even more drastic shifts in mentality. Even if they are not simply completely consumed by whichever sin caused them to Fall they are . . . changed, different.”
She sighed slightly; her face sad as she seemed to contemplate the thought of the angels in the past that had Fallen in such a way.
“The angels do not like to speak of those that Fell, but when they do begin to speak of them it is as though a dam had burst and they cannot stop.
“They spoke much of Lucifer, the first angel to Fall, perhaps the one that made it even possible to Fall at all. To them, he is a cautionary tale, a reviled foe, and yet still almost a person of reverence. Is that not strange? They speak of him with the deepest hatred, yet in the same breath, there is a deep respect and even admiration for the angel he once was. It is almost impossible to understand.”
Lucifer, the Devil himself. As soon as she mentioned him, I felt my curiosity spike like you wouldn’t believe! I had seen the devil portrayed in dozens of different ways through my life. He had been an incompetent bumbler in some kid’s cartoons. He had been a scheming villain in some of the films I’d liked. He had been an eldritch abomination in some of the books I’d read later, a creature that couldn’t be comprehended. He had even been a more sympathetic character in some comics I had enjoyed.
I wanted to know what the real nature of the being called Lucifer was. After all, I knew angels were real and anyone with access to the internet knew about the existence of demons. How then could their ruler be anything other than the Great Adversary depicted in the bible?
“How did he Fall?” The question tumbled out. “I mean, I know how it’s meant to have happened, he decides he wants to be greater than God, and then he convinces a third of the other angels to follow him into a civil war in Heaven. That’s what the bible generally says, but I think there are meant to be a whole bunch of variations that no one’s sure about. Like, did he rebel because God made mortals, or did it happen before mortals came about? And was it really pride that made him Fall, or was it something else? Can . . . can you tell me?”
Even as I asked the question what I was doing sort of hit me and I started to wonder if I was trying to push things too far too fast. I was pretty much asking her to air out Heaven’s dirty laundry for me.
I knew these kinds of questions had been asked of angels before, and even under the best of circumstances the only reply that had been given in return had been a quick dismissal. The worst . . . well, in the end, they had been able to get that reporter out of the tree, but as far as I knew he’d never touched any sort of recording device again after they pulled it out of his mouth.
But at the same time, I couldn’t help but think that maybe I was entitled to some sort of answer. Joan was here because I was going to be a demigod that was going to be important somehow, right? If that was the case, then didn’t I need and deserve to know something about all this?
“His Fall . . . it was not a simple thing,” Joan explained, her words slightly hesitant. “I do not remember all of what I learnt about it; the full explanation requires an understanding of concepts that beings of flesh such as us cannot properly comprehend. Lucifer . . . did you know that was not even his name, well, not his original name?”
“Err . . . yeah,” I hedged, trying to draw upon a half dozen different urban fantasy novel series that I’d read in the past. “It was . . . Samael, wasn’t it?”
I was pretty sure that had been his name or it might have been Hellel or something like that. My overindulgence in entertainment media had given me a whole bunch of options, and I wasn’t sure which of them, if any, had been right.
“No,” Joan answered. “Samael is a loyal angel of the Lord, though his position as the Poison of God has given him a somewhat dark reputation, so it is understandable why the ignorant might confuse him with the First of the Fallen.
“With Lucifer . . . he was the first angel to ever Fall, and as such none were able to foresee it coming, nor knew how to deal with it. Until then angels had not even known that it was even possible for them to Fall from Grace, that was part of what made it such a catastrophic event!”
My eating had slowed down, I was still hungry, but I was no longer as ravenous. I was able to pay closer attention to Joan as she continued. It would have taken a blind man not to see the emotions on her face, even if it was difficult to puzzle out exactly what they were. Sadness was there, and so was grief. But there was also anger, and more than a little . . . hurt? I wasn’t sure.
“His taking the name of Lucifer was probably the first sign of his coming Fall,” she said. “At least that is what the angels I spoke to thought. For him to discard the name given to him by the Father and instead take one of his own choice. At the time it was done in honour of the creation of the first suns, a duty that he had been tasked with, so it was regarded as simply a celebration of a completed labour.
“However, it was merely the beginning. Lucifer was a trusted servant of the Lord, his strong right hand and among His greatest champions. Among all angels, only Michael and Metatron were his peers, and none were certain of who was the strongest among them. God gave Lucifer the task of driving back the first primordial demons that emerged into the universe in the early stages of Creation. Those monsters were not like the demons that you have heard of entering the world in recent days. They compared to them as ancient dinosaurs compare to modern birds. They were huge, powerful, vicious beyond belief, but also mentally unsophisticated, unable to do more than lash out with primal savagery.
“Lucifer faced them, he drove them back, defeated them and sealed them into the distant plane that would one day be called Hell. It was there that the sin of Pride began to take hold of him, because he alone was strong enough to face the first demons in open battle. Other angels were not strong enough to do so alone, they had to work in teams or small armies. When these angels saw him do what they could not, saw him face the abominations and defeat them, it was only natural that they praised him, told him how great he was and what honour he had brought to himself and the Heavens.
“As time passed more and more came to revere him, not merely for his deeds but also for his virtues. Lucifer was seen as the perfect angel, the ideal that they should all strive for, and as more and more praise was heaped upon him Lucifer strove to be worthy of it by attaining greater and greater heights. When the first gods emerged they were undefined, all but mindless. They were not malevolent, but like clumsy giants, they broke the universe about them without meaning to. It was Lucifer that lulled them back to sleep, so they could await their proper time, and it was he that led the efforts to repair the damage that was done.”
At this point, I was listening to her every word with fascination. I had known that once, the Devil had been the greatest of all angels, but to hear of the deeds that had allowed him to attain that position was enthralling.
“However, as he performed these deeds Lucifer became more and more stained by Pride,” the resurrected soul continued. “As I said, at the time none of the angels knew that they could Fall, they didn’t understand the full meaning of what being marked by sins meant. At the time they treated the marks of Pride that had accumulated upon him as though they were battle scars, almost badges of honour.
“Lucifer’s behaviour changed as well, due to his growing pride, but it was not seen as a malign change, so it went unchallenged. He wished to be the first into battle and, given his power, that was seen as reasonable. He wished to have an elevated position when seated with the other angels of high rank, and that was seen as his due for the deeds he had performed. He demanded to speak to God alone so that only he was privileged to hear the Father’s voice, and even that was seen as understandable for the paragon of all angels.
“However, things grew worse after the creation of the World. Lucifer saw it as the crown jewel of the universe and desired it for himself, not for greed though, but solely because he had come to see himself as so magnificent that it could go to no other. In his mind, he was the pinnacle of God’s creations, so it was only fitting that the greatest world should be his as well!
“But when he voiced these desires the Almighty did not acquiesce, instead he stated that there were other plans for the World and the other worlds that would come with it. For the first time in his existence, Lucifer was denied what he wished for, and this left another dark mark upon his soul. Still, it had been the Father that had denied him, so he could do nothing but accept it, though it gnawed at him. Having been denied dominion over the world he instead asked to be its carer, so he would watch over it as other angels did suns and stars, but again he was denied. This time his outrage was greater, and he demanded of his creator why he was not given this honour, demanded to know who could be worthier than he.
“That was when God chose to disclose the next part of his plan for the universe, the creation of mortal life, and that was when Lucifer’s Fall reached the point of no return.”
Joan waved her hand, indicating the pair of us.
“What you must understand is that until this early point in Creation, the only lifeforms with any sort of civilization had been the angels under the rule of the Almighty. The only other beings in existence had been the first demons, that were barely more than mindless forces of malevolence, and the first gods, who had barely possessed any sort of conscious thought in the time they had awakened. All these beings were creatures of the same general composition as the angels, beings of primarily spirit and mind, their bodies more akin to clothing than actual parts of them.
“Mortal life, beings whose existence in the world was tied to their weak bodies of flesh, was a vast departure from all that had come before. Remember, no mortal life of any sort had been created before, not animals, not insects, not even the simplest of algae in the oceans. What the Lord was proposing was as unbelievable as the notion of talking rocks might be to mortals before the Black Sun. It was a concept that could be imagined, but in reality it made no sense.
“But that was the Almighty’s plan, and he continued to describe the next step in his plan with detail. Mortals would be creatures of the flesh, with limited lives and few restrictions upon them. They would grow, they would change, their lives would be marked upon their souls, and when they died those souls would be released to begin the next stage of their existence. Consequently, their souls would be complex in a way that far surpassed that of any angel. Angelic souls were huge and mighty, but mortal souls, though smaller and weaker, would be so much more intricate. Where angels were stars of power and light, mortals would be worlds that bore life.
“Lucifer saw all that, and he wanted it, his pride would allow nothing else! He saw the complexity of mortal souls and demanded it for himself, seeing it as another step in his journey towards further greatness. As he asked he felt greed for what was not his, envy that any but he could possess it, wrath that it was not yet already his, even lust for something that must have seemed so beautiful. He felt all of these as he made his demand, but then the Lord replied. Lucifer was told that it would be possible for angels to gain the complexity of mortal souls, but only by incarnating themselves as mortals, by giving up that which made them divine, even if only for a time. Lucifer baulked at this, unwilling to surrender his greatness, even if only for a mortal lifetime in face of immortality, and instead demanded that the improvement be made to him while he remained an angel.
“For a third time, the Almighty refused him, and it was in that moment that the Morningstar Fell!”
She paused again, this time bringing her eyes to mine, her gaze grave.
“Understand that his Fall was the first ever, none had Fallen before and had they had any notion of what was happening then it might not have been as catastrophic as it became. Unfortunately, many factors came together to cause the greatest disaster that the High Heavens have ever had to endure.
“The first factor was that no one knew what was happening. When his sins began to consume him nobody knew what was happening to Lucifer, they thought it to be some sort of external attack, and rallied to his side rather than drawing back as they should have. As such many angels that sought to help him were caught in the backlash as his power went out of control.
“The second factor was Lucifer’s state of mind, the way that his emotions and thoughts were twisted by the sins that overwhelmed his spirit. Until this point he had always been the most dutiful of angels, ever seeking to perform his duties with absolute excellence. However, he had never been denied anything that he saw as his due, and now his creator had denied him thrice. When he Fell his pride boiled over and his emotions were warped until his love for the Father became hatred, and a desire to serve became a wish to supplant, for his pride would allow nothing else.
The third factor was Lucifer’s raw strength. He was one of the strongest of all the angels in Heaven, quite possibly the strongest of all, and certainly, the most battle-hardened and tested. When sin overwhelmed him the aura of his corrupted power swept outwards, engulfing and overwhelming the angels that had drawn close. The stronger ones, such as Gabriel and Michael, were able to resist, but so many others were swept away in the tide of corrupted power.
“It was this last factor that was the most devastating, for it was what caused the civil war of the Heavens.
“You recall how I said that when an angel Falls, they lose their connection to the Heavens? Well, that system was created because when Lucifer Fell nobody knew that his connection should have been cut, and as such his corruption spread like a wildfire. Angels all have a connection with the Heavens that allows them to share knowledge and power. It is not a perfect connection, it is not a hive mind that allows all minds to be as one, nor does it allow any one angel to wield the power of all others. Rather it allows them to sense each other, to support each other, to share pain and strength when needed. When Lucifer Fell, he was still a part of that connection, and so many angels felt his turmoil, and they all reached out to try to help him, only to get dragged down with him.
“A full third of the forces of Heaven were caught up in his Fall, his sin washing over them, tainting them and then drowning them in corruption. Most angels had never experienced such an overwhelming rush of negative emotions, and were unable to defend against it, each of them Falling as their own sins rose to consume them! In the end, it was only due to the Almighty casting the Fallen from Heaven after Lucifer attacked him and cutting them all from the connection that the cascade of Falling ended.”
There was a brief pause, and I took full advantage of it to ask what had been burning in my mind since she’d started to talk about the angels Falling.
“Why did God make it so angels could Fall at all? Couldn’t he have made the infallible?”
“Do you think the Lord God to be infallible Himself?” Joan asked. “After all, only an infallible being could create an infallible being, do you think that such a thing exists?”
I was honestly stunned to hear such words coming from her. Joan had faith, of that there was absolutely no doubt. It wasn’t the mindless faith of the fanatical. Hers was something far more solid, tempered, and generous. To hear her even suggest that God was anything less than a perfect existence seemed . . . wrong on some fundamental level.
“Perhaps I have given you the wrong impression about the Almighty, Adam,” Joan said, her voice oddly gentle. “The Lord God, he is not like the other gods. He is not a man written large, He is not a human with vast power. He is . . . beyond anything you can imagine. I have been in His presence, and the memory of it has been fragmented and removed so that I can maintain my sanity after retaking a mortal existence, that is how vast a being He is. This world, this sun it orbits, this galaxy it spins in, the universe that holds it, they were all born from Him and His power, and yet they are but a fraction of what He is.
“He loves in a way that defies the mind, but there is no doubt that His love is as vast and mighty as He is. He moves towards some goal, but even the mightiest of angels or the wisest of gods knows not what it is. Many gods call themselves almighty or rulers of creation, but in the end, none of them has challenged Him, for all their boasts. In all of the aeons of Creation only thrice have the High Heavens come under attack, once by Lucifer, once by an alliance of older gods who had grown arrogant upon their power, and once by a pantheon whose name is now burnt from memory. Every one of them failed, for that is the extent of His power!”
I wasn’t too sure of just where she was going with all this. Hadn’t I asked why God hadn’t made angels incorruptible? So why was she making God sound like a friendly version of some overwhelmingly powerful eldritch abomination?
My confusion must have again shown on my face because a small chuckle escaped Joan as she looked at me.
“Yes, it was within His power, the Almighty could have made the angels perfect,” the smile fell from her face and a serious look took its place. “He could have made us perfect, made all mortals a race of idealized immortals that would never know death or pain or want, did you know that?”
All I could do was shake my head, how could I have done anything else? What was I even meant to feel after having learnt such a truth? The world . . . for people it was not a kind place. Oh, to be sure there was kindness, love, loyalty and friendship, things that made life worth living, but there was also so much suffering, so much pain and want that was inflicted upon the poor, the weak, or the simply unfortunate. At this very instant someone was throwing away food right at the same time as a child was starving to death, possibly very near them. So, how, how could that be right? Why would he have made us like this if he could have made us so much better?
My puzzlement must have shown on my face because Joan nodded.
“I can see the question in you, and it was the same question that I asked Him when I was first given the honour of an audience. I was awed, and I was honoured, and I felt that I might weep with joy that I was held as worthy to gaze upon His face and stand in His presence. But even so when He asked me what questions I might wish the answers to the first to spring from my mouth was the one that I can see writhing in your head. ‘Tell me, oh Lord Almighty, the god to whom I have devoted my soul, why were humans unworthy of perfection? What trespass did we make that we must toil as we do? Was the transgression of Adam and Eve so heinous that we must suffer for it so many years afterwards?’ That is what I asked him!”
I was stunned! Was this the same Joan I knew? To question the plan of God? To question His motives for setting up the universe the way He did. All I could do was stare at her as I waited for her next words.
“As soon as I asked the question I was horrified with myself, thinking that I would be struck down for my temerity. But instead, He explained to me why perfection had been denied to all, the angels that served him, the gods that came after him, even the mortals he created.”
“Well . . . why?”
Even as I asked I felt a certain thrill going through me. I had been raised as a Christian, though I will admit that my family wasn’t the most devout. I think on average I attended church maybe three times a year at the very most. And it wasn’t as though I said my prayers every night before I went to bed, but I was a believer of sort. Still, I had always picked at the paradoxes of my faith.
“He told me if he had made us perfect, then we would never have been able to live in the first place.”
What?!
“He told me that a perfect thing is a thing that has stopped growing. Why should it need to grow, would not such growth only take it away from its perfection? And if it does not need to grow then why should it do anything? What should it strive for? What should it aspire to be? In His words, a perfect thing is a beautiful thing, something to be valued and admired, but it is also a static thing, something that has come to the end of its development. It can never be anything else, it can never be anything more. It can only be whatever it is for as long as it can before time drags it down.
“But an imperfect thing, something that lacks something, something that is incomplete, it can strive, it can improve, it can become more!
“Mortals, angels, even the greatest gods, we are all imperfect, incomplete. We feel hungers and pain, we yearn, we strive, we know both virtue and sin, and we grow from it. We have free will and can choose what we shall be, and because of that choice what we do has more value to it. Were we perfect then there would be no value to our decisions because they could not be anything else. We would always choose correctly because doing otherwise would be impossible.
“Angels can Fall, gods can be mad, or cruel, or both, mortals can sin until their souls are as blackened as a fiend from the deepest depths of Hell, but for all that, we can also be better. Angels can shine brighter than stars, gods can be benevolent and wise, and mortals can be as good and pure as any soul to reside in the Heavens. All of us can grow, be more than we were the day before if we so choose. That is why we have free will, that is why we have a choice!”
There was a pause as I tried to digest what I’d just heard. Perfection was a bad thing? Okay, I could see the argument, see where . . . where God was coming from, but it was still kind of strange to wrap my head around it. Also, if that was the case, if perfection stifled growth, then what about . . .
“So . . . God isn’t perfect?”
I met the French saint’s eyes as I asked the question, doing my best to stay steady as I did so.
“What is perfection, when you think about it?” Joan asked in return. “I have spoken with the Lord, and He has told me Himself that He is flawed. He is powerful beyond any other, His wisdom eclipses the combined knowledge of all that exists, and His intellect surpasses anything that even the mind of an immortal can imagine. And yet, for all that He is not without error or flaw, He has told me so Himself!
“He can transcend time, he can see all of what has been and what can be as easily as you or I could see the colour of the sky by glancing out of a window. Yet he keeps from doing so in order to be able to be surprised by what his creations accomplish so that they might be more than acting out a play that he has already read the script for. So, he stands with us as part of the show, rather than being a puppet master. Even though it may lead to pain and heartbreak for Him, he lives in the same time as us. That is how much he loves us!”
That . . . that made some sort of sense, if you squinted hard enough. When you think about it the harshest foe to an omnipotent and omniscient being would have to be boredom. Why would you do anything if you already knew what would emerge from your efforts? With such absolute knowledge of what was to come then the lack of any sort of stimulus would become crushing! Was that why God had created the universe, just for something to entertain him?
I could have followed that line of thought, tried pile on more questions until I was buried in uncertainty, but the fact was that I was already emotionally drained from what I’d learnt. There was more I wanted to know, like how Lucifer’s rebellion had been fought, what the aftermath had been, how it was more angels had Fallen since, and where the gods fit into it all. But at that moment I’d had about enough of having my view of the world shaken up. Maybe I was still just too tired from all the sparring and learning from earlier in the day, but I just didn’t want to have to face any more big revelations
So, I just nodded. Then, feeling that it wasn’t enough, I inclined my head in an almost bow.
“Thanks for telling me all of that. I’m not sure what I’m going to make of it, but thanks for letting me know.”
It was as sincere as I could make it, and Joan offered a smile in return that made her face seem to brighten.
“These are things that you will need to know in the future. In time you will learn much more, of that, you can be certain.”
I had no doubt she was right, but the evening had already been plenty for me. I was feeling tired, even more so than before, as though learning such truths had somehow wrung me out. I was more than happy for a chance to change the subject.
“Well, right now there is one bit of knowledge I’m interested in, where did you learn to cook like this?”
“Ah,” For the first time I saw Joan look a bit bashful, her cheeks were slightly rosy and she wasn’t meeting my eyes. “When I was younger my mother taught me how to cook, saying that if I ever wanted to catch a man then a good meal was a necessary weapon to employ, and I found I enjoyed it. During my time in the Heavens, I took to learning more recipes in between my martial training, and after so long I have learnt much.”
Huh, I knew that Joan had been raised in what was probably quite a sexist environment by today’s standards. Fifteenth-century France wasn’t a place that would have been big on women’s rights, and if what little I knew of the era was accurate women were considered to be largely subservient to men. Joan had been a young girl growing up in such a household, and women were seen as having roles that they should not stray from. If I remembered right then she hadn’t even been literate at the time that she went on to save her country from foreign invasion. Her learning to cook was a logical skill for her to learn under such circumstances. At the same time, I was having trouble reconciling her in the kitchen with the mental image I’d built up of her in the last few days.
Joan was, to put not too fine a point on it, Kick-Ass! After having my rear end handed to me so many times, and with such minimal effort, Joan firmly occupied the mental space in my mind that shared room with warrior princesses and vampire slayers, namely the ‘strong-female-lead’ space. The thought of her acting as a homemaker was about as bizarre as the thought of a certain amazon princess being relegated to the kitchen in an apron.
“Well, let me thank you for your efforts, and for getting this ready! I swear, if you didn’t use your healing on me then I think that your food would make for a decent substitute. I know that I’d be willing to crawl on broken legs to get it!”
The last was said with an even wider grin to show that it was just a joke, but I had to admit there was some truth to it. I was not a foodie, but I could tell that pretty much everything she cooked was top-tier. After a hard day of sparring and getting pummelled that could be a real motivator, let me tell you.
“Do you really think so?”
From bashful to shy, it was rather charming to see this side of my normally stern and serious protector. It wasn’t the over-the-top shyness that I might have seen in one of the anime I liked, but it was close enough to amuse me with the thought of reality mirroring fiction. In response, I ladled a large forkful of food into my mouth and began to industriously chew it, even though my cheeks were a bit stretched, like some overeager chipmunk. As I did so I looked at her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.
Making these ridiculous faces managed to get a short peel of laughter from my host, one that dispersed her earlier self-consciousness.
“I believe that would count as a yes then?” she asked, only to receive another waggling of my eyebrows as I tried to work my way through my mouthful. It drew another laugh from her, and a somewhat stretched smile settled on my face.
This had not been the evening I was expecting, but it was alright. I had learnt much, enough to leave my head buzzing with all the new information trying to settle within it, but I could worry about that later. For now, I had pleasant food, pleasant company, and a pleasant atmosphere. Once I went on to become . . . whatever I might end up being, I’d have far more weighty matters to worry about. So, for now, it was nice to just enjoy the simple things, even if it was just for an evening.
Now, did this place have anything to play besides dominos? I still hadn’t taken a proper look through all the drawers so there might be some games hidden away if I looked. Even if there wasn’t, I could try introducing Joan to things like hangman or noughts and crosses.
Yeah, it would be nice to have an evening without anything to worry about.