“Am I truly a fool?” Lucifer hisses. “Or is our Father nothing more than a thief and a liar?”

“Lucifer,” Rafa'el’s lips part in shock, eyes shining.

I can only look down at my youngest sibling, searching and searching his golden eyes -- searching and searching and searching for where it had all gone wrong. Where and when had it been that the black snake of doubt and hate had slithered within Lucifer’s hard, curling around it in a vice-grip so tight that the two beings had merged.

And yet all that our Father had given Lucifer is gone: there is nothing of that angel left. All the times I spent with my sibling runs through my head in a sick drama of memories -- and with each image, a lump begins to swell within my throat. I can only clench my jaw against the feeling, trying to swallow back the stone that has taken residence there, and only continues to get bigger.

“Just call for Father -- he doesn’t listen to me anymore, but I doubt he’d ignore His golden child” Lucifer bares his teeth. “Let Him come here and stand judgement with me.”

“Father…” Mikha'el cleared his throat and set his shoulders. “Father has already laid forth his commands. This is neither a hearing nor a trial: it’s a sentencing.”

Rami'el stepped forward, fists clenching, “Father isn’t even going to listen to Lucifer?”

“Of course not,” Gavri’el sighs, though every muscle in his face tenses into perfect stillness. I almost would have almost preferred his incessant sardonic grin in this moment as opposed to this new mask; this one is as clear as water, and furious grief lines every inch. “Why would Father bother listening,” he goes on, “when he already knows it all anyways?”

Lucifer slams a fist into the ground, the marble beneath cracking out in a spider-webbing pattern of lines from the force of impact. He turns his face towards the very might of Heaven, tears falling from his eyes. “Would you deny me even now?” he screams. “Will you not even bear to face what you made?!?”

“Enough!” I snap, flicking out my wrist so that my sword manifests within my hand. It was Lucifer himself who had carved the words Quis ut Deus? into the divine steel, and each delicate stroke now glares at me in accusation.

“Brother…” Lucifer stands to his feet, eyes still wild, but his expression one of confusion and fear.

“I am no longer your brother,” I manage, barely able to get the words out. “And you, Lucifer, Hêlêl ben Šāḥar, the Morning Star, are cast out. No longer are you an angel of Heaven--”

“Brother--” Lucifer takes a step towards me, but I point my sword at the youngest’s face.

“Take one more step and I will cut your legs out from under you so that you will only be able to crawl on your belly with the beasts of the Earth.”

“Mikha'el!” Rafa'el takes a few steps of his own, but Uri'el holds out an arm to keep him back. The two look at each other, the latter shaking his head; the former turns back to me, eyes pleading not to do this.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

But orders are orders. I have no choice: I must do what God has commanded. I whisper a prayer and take a deep breath. My grip tightens and I bring the blade down in a sweeping arc, and slash through my brother.

Except that it is the wrong brother.

At the last moment, Rami'el appears, shoving Lucifer aside, and takes the full force of my blade. Horror carves out a hollow in my gut; I watch Rami'el fall. I hear the voices of my other siblings, and they all rush around the prone Rami'el. Uri'el is the first of them all, cradling the body of our younger sibling to his chest. In any other situation such a scene might be amusing; Uri'el and Rami'el always delight in nothing so much as they do in fighting each other, one always trying to best the other in combat.

Only Lucifer sits apart from our brothers, gazing upon the bloody scene with horror and confusion. When his eyes finally land upon me, however, that horror turns to rage. Lucifer’s own blade, the sword of the morning star and light of the dawn, gleams brighter than the sun in his hands; I remember Father handing Lucifer that sword, charging him to use it “righteously.”

Did God know, even then, that his eldest and youngest would clash in such a way? That these gifted blades would be turned upon each other? Had Father known that it would all fall down, and that the dynasty of Heaven would be so shaken?

“Of course He did,” I can practically hear Gavri’el say. “After all: He knows everything.”

The cries that echo now from the court of Heaven would terrify humanity down below were they to hear; it sounds like the ending of the world. Lucifer and I crash into each other in supernova, everything around in danger of evaporating with us. The stars cease their turning, instead quaking near to the point of falling from their place to crash into Heaven on their way towards Earth, and perhaps even farther to the pits of Hell.

From somewhere, I can hear Rafa’el begging us to stop while Gavri’el holds him back, not allowing the most gentle of us all to interfere. Lucifer’s moves grow more and more wild; he is a raging, grieving, wild animal, and even his teeth look as if they would lengthen into fangs as he bares them amidst the collision of steel upon steel.

Finally, however, I see my opening and knock Lucifer’s blade from his hand; I slash across my youngest sibling’s midsection, sending Lucifer stumbling back until he loses his balance. Lucifer lies there, staring up at the stars, hand resting atop the wound I dealt. His lips moved rapidly, but I cannot hear what Lucifer says.

I look back at the rest of our siblings; they have not moved from where they huddle around the still-unconscious Rami’el. All of their eyes shine bright, and shame burns in my cheeks. I did not choose this! I want to yell at them. But what would it matter? They understand...but I can also already see that they will never forgive me. After all: they cannot not raise their hand or voice to their Father, but I make for a suitable replacement onto which to project their feelings of injustice.

Thus is the curse of the eldest.

Lucifer manages to stand with his back to us, and his shoulders shake as he tries to breathe through the pain that must lance at his insides. The air around his back shimmers, and I breathe in. I need take but a step, and reach out so my fingers close around the feather-like aether of Lucifer’s wings; with one great and terrible wrenching motion, I rip them out from the roots. Golden blood-like aether spurts out from the gash-like wounds and Lucifer falls onto all fours with a cry.

“Lucifer!” Rami’el must have awoken from his unconscious state.

Lucifer manages to turn, on his knees, to once again face me. But he can look up at me for only a moment. I kick his chest, foot colliding against sternum with a sickening sound. Lucifer falls back, eyes wide with surprise that I had not expected. The knife of betrayal I had felt stab my soul now pushes itself in deeper at that look, and my heart aches.

The youngest reaches his arms out to me as he falls. I do not move, only close my fists so tight that I feel the nails break skin. My jaw clenches to the point human teeth would have cracked, but it is all I can do and take to hold the dam against the unwanted tears that build behind my eyes.

Goodbye, brother.