Like God’s Breath
This experimental writing IS NOT MEANT FOR MOBILE. It is formatted for viewing on desktop with HTML that mobile phones just do not like. For a better example, try the google document located at https://tinyurl.com/ybz6yeg9 This writing was created in exchange for a commission by @Teckmonky and the original request can be found at
http://teckmonky.tumblr.com/post/176778064527/frostiron-angeldemondevil-au-loki-is-the-angel
Songs played while composing this work include the following playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oK8YAuIxTrI&list=PLdq33DKh_VLUMY5sn3W_6qFT2xx8aMkTD&t=0s&index=2
At the moment of the new angel's birth, Loki's first memory was of passing through a long bright tunnel. He passed through the gentle caress of millions of hands made of light. Each caress filled him with the deepest feeling of love and affection. His birth was as a breath from God, and all creatures that loved God also loved Loki. This new angel, in this moment of creation, was the most beloved and cared for creature in all known existence. Just as every new breath of life from God has been lauded, Loki's first memories were of coming into existence with love and the song of His entire angelic choir. They sang praise for Loki's smooth innocent face, for his gleaming white wings, for the light of the world God breathed into him that beamed from his crystal blue iris. They sang praise for his flawless skin, his pure pink lips, from which the first utterance was love for his creator, God. He joined the choir at the end of their song for him, to praise God's next breath.
And Angels do not sing merely in sound. These angels, all made of light, sang out in lightwaves. The light burst forth from them, each proton vibrating at frequencies that pleased God. The light was made to praise Him, and Loki's light burst forth the brightest, the loudest, and the most beautiful of all. The choir sang out to declare it so, and Loki's creator proclaimed that Loki should learn of all the beauty within Heaven, so that he might better praise God's creations. As God spoke, He declared His first warning; Only God may use The Word.
And so angels brought Loki down from the golden throne of Heaven and into the light at it's pearled gates. The Angels did not speak in words, for the word of God was the only word needed in Heaven. The angels smiled at Loki, and held their outstretched hands out to him. Wide-eyed and innocent, Loki reached back. When his fingers touched theirs, the light from one angel bled into him, and his own light bled into the angel. Through this gentle touch, Loki learned the language of Light; how to absorb, reflect, and transmit light of different frequencies directly between the angelic host. He smiled, and filled the entire angelic host with joy.
The angels taught him about the vast delights of heaven, and the power of God who made it all. Loki asked many questions about eternity, of heaven and the universe, and each member of the angelic host delighted in answering him by sharing their light, sharing their memories. Their memories stretched back to the beginning of creation.
Until finally, Loki asked a question that the host could not answer.
“Why was I created?”
One by one, the angels turned their faces from Loki and back towards God.
“Do you not have the answer? Is that something only God can answer?” he wondered.
“We know you were created to be the most beautiful of us,”
“You've said too much,”
“You were created because God wanted you, and that is the most pure reason of all, that He wanted for your existence, and that is reason enough.”
“Should we tell him, or should we not,”
“God hears all that we say, if He did not want the question asked, He would not have allowed Loki to ask it,”
“And He would not allow us to tell Loki of anything He did not want known,
“We know what God wants to remain unknown,”
“There was one other with such beauty, that fell from God's grace,”
“You're nothing like him,”
“We shouldn't talk about him,”
“We shouldn't think about him,”
“You are so much better, put him out of your mind,”
“Put him from your mind because God wants him far from all our minds.”
And in this way, the host’s light entered Loki's mind. He could not stop his own questioning, even for the love of God who created him. Not even for the love of that which brought him to this existence of pure light and affectionate care could Loki stop his curiosity. He touched each angel in the angelic host, and attempted to both share his light, and take their light, to reach enlightenment. Each angel, upon Loki's touch, divulged a bit about the fallen angel. They could not help themselves, for the light of Loki's touch was too pure to resist. They could not resist revealing their thoughts to him. They revealed the fallen angel's name, Anthony. They revealed his banishment to Earth and revealed the existence of another of God's creations lived there, called Man. But no matter how Loki pleaded, none of the host would reveal to him how it came to be that Anthony had fallen. That is how Loki learned that even in the language of Light, there were ways to ensure that some light can be hidden. For a moment, Loki hid his own light, in the same way that the host hid their knowledge of Anthony's sin, never to be seen. The host gasped, and for the first time, Loki felt fear. He feared doing wrong, he feared causing harm.
He feared becoming like Anthony.
And so Loki allowed his light to be seen again. And at that moment, Loki stopped questioning the host for answers of Anthony's Sin. The host wept at the beauty of Loki's light, and each angel shone and bowed at the foot of the golden plinth upon which sat God on his throne of gilded light. God forgave them one by one as they approached his throne, and each sang God's praises again.
God called to Loki, and as God called his angel by name, Loki was compelled to the foot of His throne. God's voice permeated Loki's being, shook and reassembled the very photons which composed his form. Loki felt His forgiveness for the insatiable curiosity Loki possessed. His forgiveness felt warm and comfortable in contrast to the fear he felt whilst hiding his own light, the fear that he had caused the Angelic Host distress.
On the seventh day of Loki’s existence, the host folded Loki in their wings and rested. And while they slept, Loki hid his light. He approached the pearled gates, and flew away as The Lord Himself rested. Loki flew down to the Earth, where Anthony was said to remain imprisoned. He searched for this angel, and found him by his light.
Anthony sat with his enormous white wings draped across the arms of his own dull earthen throne built of metal and bone at the heart of the world. Across his lap lay the charred skeleton of some recently destroyed enemy. Anthony drilled tiny holes into the delicate rib cage. Loki shuddered with a fear he had not felt since the day he learned of Anthony. He flew on silent feathers and landed, nude, before Anthony in his throne. Anthony looked up from his work, and stared. His eyes locked upon Loki with the same intense amber focus of an osprey's eyes upon a dove. He saw Loki's youthful beauty. The unadulterated porcelain skin taught over young lithe muscle contrasted with Anthony's salt and pepper stubble and the creases trailed in his neck where his skin folded as he turned his head. The crows foot wrinkles at the corners of Anthony's intense gaze crinkled in desire and jealousy of the smooth skin of Loki's innocent face. He wondered at the size of Loki's small wings, alabaster and immaculate save for the muss of ruffles the fledgeling pinfeathers pushed out of place. Loki's icy eyes widened, his pupils contracted and dilated. They stared at each other in silence. Loki swallowed, and approached Anthony's throne with a shudder. He reached a shaky hand toward Anthony, offered Anthony the touch of shivering fingertips. Anthony stopped Loki with a gesture.
“Nuh-uh, no ya don't,” Anthony said, “You stay over there.”
Loki's jaw dropped. He gasped and jumped away. Anthony's voice seeped into his spine. Loki tingled with a heated sensation that was all new to him. This was the first time Loki had ever heard a word spoken by someone besides The Lord his God. He stared at Anthony in confusion, and could not contrive a way to ask Anthony about his sin without the Language of Light. Loki stared at Anthony with the heat in his body and the confusion in his heart until his knees quivered and buckled beneath him. Loki sat on the ground in front of the throne of bones and peered up into Anthony's handsome face. Convinced that Loki would not approach him, Anthony returned to his work, drilled another fine hole in the charred rib.
“Speak,” Anthony said.
Loki covered his mouth. His adam's apple bobbed in his elegant throat. Anthony looked up at him.
“Speak,” Anthony said, “you came all this way, tell me your reason. Speak.”
Loki clasped his hands together, held them against his chest, shook his head in pleading.
“Yes,” Anthony demanded, “speak.”
A tiny bit of moisture caught in the corners of Loki's eyes, indicated his deep fear. Anthony paused. He looked at Loki, and his face grew stern.
“Why don't you speak,” Anthony asked.
Loki thrust out his hand, reached his fingertip to Anthony and held it there outstretched. Anthony set the eldritch dullahan off the arm of the throne. Loki stared at the featherless patches of scarred gooseflesh on the back of Anthony’s wing as it passed between them. The one large wing rolled between Anthony and Loki, the tips of the flight feathers brushed Loki's outstretched fingers aside as Anthony stood.
“Speak or I break your pretty neck,” Anthony threatened.
“Only God may use The Word!” Loki blurted.
Anthony paused.
“And?” Anthony said, “You're not in God's territory anymore, Kid. You're in Mine. What in His name are you doing here?”
“What in His name are you doing here?” Loki echoed with a whisper.
“Excuse me?” Anthony asked.
Loki's soft crooning voice felt faint, as hidden as his brilliant light.
“Excuse me?” Loki asked.
“Kid are you mocking me?” Anthony asked.
Loki shook his head vigorously, and again offered his outstretched fingers.
“No, none of that, what is wrong with you? You act like you've never spoken words before.”
The glint of hope lit the clear lens above his blue iris.
“Never spoken words before,” Loki echoed.
“Are you telling me you're here for a vocabulary lesson?” Anthony asked.
Loki shrugged.
“Alright,” Anthony said, “put your hands on your knees, close your eyes, and do not move a muscle. If you try for a second to push your light into me, I will end you that instant, nod if you understand that.”
Loki nodded, grabbed his knees. He closed his eyes. His pink lips parted. Anthony cracked his neck, mentally prepared himself to hide the majority of his incinerating light from the youth. He touched the shining, serene eyelids. The black lashes fluttered under his touch as the pink lips opened and curled in delight. Anthony imparted to Loki a large segment of his own memories of speech, without a lot of other information. He removed his fingertips from Loki's eyelids, which promptly flipped open. Loki looked up at Anthony with a naughty wide-eyed mirth.
“You seemed to enjoy that,” Anthony observed.
“Oh yes,” Loki said.
“Great. Now do me a favor and explain to me exactly why you're here?”
“I came to find out why you are here,” Loki asked.
“What, they don't teach about me any more in Good Little Angel School?” Anthony said.
“They won't tell me, whatever you did, whatever your sin was, they refuse to let me understand what you did, I can't imagine what you even did to deserve this banishment from God's wonderful grace,” Loki said.
“God's wonderful grace, my wonderful ass,” Anthony said.
“Is it not important to you?” Loki asked.
“Not to disappoint you kid, but I don't wanna talk about it,” Anthony said.
“Why not? Surely if you use The Word, you can use it to beg forgiveness? God could certainly hear the words we say, He could just take you back into His embrace if you asked, right?”
With that, Anthony laughed, a high pitched, wicked laugh. Loki drew away from Anthony. The tiny tears that glistened in the corners of Loki's eyes from his earlier fears were joined by drops of confused anguish.
“Please don't laugh,” Loki said.
“It's too funny,” Anthony said.
“But you laugh at God's love,” Loki said, “you laugh at God's love, laugh at that love from which you came, you mock your own creation, and so you laugh at your own existence. Please don't hurt yourself like that.”
“You don't know what happened, kid. Don't you dare make assumptions about my situation,” Anthony said.
“I only assume that God must love you, so why reject that love?” Loki asked.
“Kid, I said I didn't wanna talk about it,” Anthony warned.
“Please,” Loki begged.
“Uh, I'm gonna go with no. You may as well have been born yesterday, and you can't possibly give me one good reason why I should talk to you about this,” quipped Anthony.
“I need to know,” Loki said from upon his knees, “Please, I need to know what you did so that I don't become like you!”
Anthony glared. Loki flinched and skittered away. Anthony caught him by the wings and wrestled his tall thin body to the floor. Loki started to cry out to God for salvation, when Anthony cut him off.
“Don't do that, if you ever wanna see Heaven again, don't call to God, He will not come down here to get you,” Anthony said.
Loki sucked his pink, beautiful bottom lip into his mouth, screwed his eyes shut, turned his face away from Anthony, and wept. Anthony shook Loki by the bones of his wings.
“It's good that you fear me,” Anthony said, “now you're gonna take these pretty little wings and fly back to Heaven before anyone notices you gone. And you're not going to come back here ever again. If you do, you'll discover exactly why you're so afraid of me.”
“You don't scare me,” Loki said, “My only fear is being cut off from God's love, same as you, and I don't know how to do that if I don't know the rules! I'm scared because I don't know why He would do this to you!”
“Fine, you came all this way just to know what a cunt your God is, then I'll explain it to you!” Anthony said.
“No! You can't disrespect Him like that! You're hurting yourself!” Loki cried.
“Do you want to know what foul crime I committed to get my ass thrown down here, or not?” Anthony asked with a firm grip on Loki's alulae.
Loki nodded.
“Don't say I didn't warn you,” Anthony said.
Anthony pressed his palm against Loki's forehead, tilted Loki's head back, exposed his alabaster swan neck. Loki's eyes widened in shock, his mouth gaped, and the muscles in his soft throat pulled taut as Anthony pressed the Light of memory into Loki's being.
Loki experienced Anthony's first memory; the moment of the Anthony's birth. Loki experienced the familiar sensation of passing through a long bright tunnel. Where Loki had passed through the gentle caress of millions of hands made of light, Anthony passed only through the hands of The Lord God, his Creator. God's caress filled Anthony with the deepest feeling of love and affection. Anthony's birth was, too, as a breath from God; and all creatures that God made after Anthony loved God, and also loved Anthony. This new angel, in this moment of creation, was the most beloved and cared for creature in all known existence; the only creature in known existence. Anthony was born singing God's praise. Anthony's light was stronger than the entirety of the Angelic Host. Anthony's song was sweeter than the entire choir that Loki first heard when he came into being. Loki wept at this beauty, even as it was a mere memory. Anthony became the choir, and praised God's next breath. God breathed, and created Michael. Anthony sang for Michael's beauty, and Michael wept. God breathed, and He created Gabriel. Anthony and Michael sang for Gabriel's beauty, and Gabriel wept. God breathed, and He created Uriel. Anthony, Michael, and Gabriel sang for Uriel, who wept. God breathed. Anthony, Michael, Gabriel, and Uriel sang for Raphael, the youngest of the archangels. God ordered the archangels to kneel before Anthony, and they did. When they rose, the five angels embraced each other and so began the Language of Light. And they used this language to fill the universe with light, and pour this song of light upon its creator. And this was the beginning of the Angelic Host, those same angels who taught Loki about the grand creation of Heaven and his place within it.
“You... You were His first breath,” Loki sighed this thought into Anthony's light.
“Quiet, get outta my head and listen,” Anthony ordered.
Loki witnessed, through memory, God create the universe. Most of this memory remained the same as the memory imparted to Loki by the Angelic Host, save for the memory of the birth of one creature. God created Adam. God created him from clay, and sighed into the clay that it might come to life, and speak The Word.
And The Word of Adam was The Word of God. And God promised Adam that no other creature could use The Word save man and God Himself. The Word of Adam could shape reality to Adam's will. God imparted His autonomy into Adam by giving him His breath, by giving him His Word. The Angelic Host sang for Adam's beauty, but Anthony remained silent. God ordered Anthony to sing for His creation, to sing praise to His work, to bow before His favored creation. And Anthony Refused.
Loki watched on in wide eyed horror as Anthony defied God's order. Loki watched as Anthony called God's creation a mere mud puddle, unworthy of the obedience of beings made of light and fire and God's love. Anthony claimed that this lump of mud was beneath the Angelic Host, God's most loyal creations. God used The Word to banish Anthony from Heaven. Anthony pleaded with God for forgiveness, for one chance to prove Adam's base nature. Anthony asked God to place Adam in a paradise, and give unto Adam everything that Adam could possibly want. Anthony said Adam would never be satisfied, and proved it first with Adam's request for a mate. God made Eve for Adam, but would not change The Word to allow Anthony back into Heaven. Anthony pointed out that God had not planted two of the trees in the paradise; the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and the tree of eternal life. Anthony questioned why God would hesitate to provide these fruits to Adam. So God planted the trees in Paradise, and instructed Adam and Eve to never eat from the trees, lest they, like Anthony, be banished from Heaven forever. The Angelic Host witnessed God's injustice towards Anthony. Anthony pleaded with the Host for access to Heaven. Anthony claimed he could convince the base Adam to eat of the fruit of the forbidden trees. He claimed that the humans were so base that a mere whisper would cause them to dance willingly into the darkness. The Host allowed Anthony in the form of a Great Snaketo slip into paradise. God called to His angelic host, and made them watch Anthony and Eve and Adam, with the promise that if Anthony failed to tempt Adam, that the entire angelic host would follow Anthony into banishment from Heaven. But Anthony, as the snake, spoke to Adam and Eve. And Adam and Eve heard The Word from the snake, and trusted The Word of God no longer.
Adam bit the fruit. And Eve Followed.
And God allowed His Angelic Host to remain with Him in His Heaven, for God now saw that His creation was bad. He banished them from Heaven, and cast down the snake; God would still not lift his banishment of Anthony. The Angelic Host pleaded with God for the return of Anthony to His grace. But God would not hear them. And God decreed that none should speak of Anthony's Great Sin
Loki snapped from this memory to the sensation of falling forward. He flapped his wings frantically just as his chest hit the ground. Anthony had released him, left him to fall to the unloving floor. Loki turned to look over his shoulder at Anthony.
“There ya go, kid. Now you know what not to do if you want to stay in God's good graces. Now fly on home before you miss your curfew,” Anthony said.
“You called his creation a mudpuddle,” Loki hissed.
“You're dangerously close to pissin' me off, kid,” Anthony warned.
“But why did you hate them with such fury,” Loki asked.
“You don't know them, you don't see them, the 'Angelic Host' has not taught you how evil the generations and generations of Adam's offspring are. They no longer yearn for Heaven. Each and every one of them has wished they were me, to rule Earth like me, without a single wit of desire for the love of our Creator. I don't have to turn into a snake or whisper to them any longer, they kill and steal and sin of their own volition, there isn't a good one among them, there never has been, and there never will be, and I will not bow to this pointless clusterfuck of miscreation.”
Loki looked at him with wet, pleading eyes. Anthony felt the compulsion wrought by the innocent stare, and pressed his urge back into his stomach. He sat himself back into his throne, took up the bones of the dullahan, and began to drill and sew into its bones.
“Go,” Anthony ordered.
Anthony used The Word, and Loki flew from Anthony, helpless against the compulsory nature of his Creator's Word. But while Anthony desired Loki to return to Heaven, Loki had only been compelled to leave Anthony. Loki flew across the globe, observed humanity. He observed the murders and the thefts, slavery and abuse. And he observed compassion, bravery, and loyalty. He felt as though Anthony must have remained unaware that mankind could have these noble traits. Loki returned to Anthony's throne to find the dullahan abandoned. Loki searched for Anthony, but he was absent. Loki witnessed a great fireball in the sky. The fireball shot straight towards him. He flitted out of the way as Anthony, in a great ball of fire, crashed just behind his throne. Loki flew to the flames. In the center of the great fireball lie Anthony's unconscious form, dizzy from having been cast out from the edge of Heaven. Loki hesitated to put his hand in the flame, but the draw of Anthony's closed eyes proved irresistible. Loki touched his fingertips to Anthony's eyelids.
Loki lived through Anthony's memory, once more. Loki watched himself fly away as Anthony told him to go. Loki, as Anthony, tossed the dullahan to the floor and screamed in agony and longing. He desired, more than anything, the love and forgiveness of his Creator. He desired to rejoin the Angelic Host, to sing His praises with them. Anthony grew insane, and flew into the stars. He flew headlong towards the pearled gates, where spinning swords of flame pummeled him at the entrance, knocked him back to Earth, cast him from heaven with such force that his form became a comet.
Anthony's eyes opened, and he swatted Loki's hand away with a hard slap. Anthony rose from the ash and dust, his form made of flame and light.
“Kid?” he said.
The flames died back, and Anthony stood before Loki, naked.
“I thought I told you to go home,” Anthony growled.
“You just told me to go,” Loki corrected, “so I went.”
“Oh yeah? Where'd you go?”
Loki told Anthony about the kindness and compassion he'd witnessed among the humans. Anthony winced several times. Loki had hope that his words would sting away whatever pride prevented Anthony from returning with him to Heaven. When Anthony figured this out, he laughed.
“No kid, I'm laughing because you think I’m compelled by their kindness, and I’m wincing because those damn swords got me right in the pinfeathers this time,” Anthony groaned.
Loki looked at the back of Anthony's wing to discover a smoking wound.
“Who is they and how did they do this?” Loki asked.
Anthony sighed, looked up at the tall, thin angel, and smiled.
“You know, kid, I get the distinct impression you keep asking me questions just because you want to cop another feel,” Anthony accused.
Loki's wings flinched and he scrambled backwards away from Anthony.
“I know damn well that you saw the flaming swords when you took The Light from my closed eyes, don't play stupid, I'm as old as eternity and you were born yesterday,” Anthony said.
“You act like the language of Light is wrong,” Loki said.
“Sometimes it can be,” Anthony said.
“No, what we're doing is wrong,” Loki said, “using The Word for the most basic of interactions, it's pathetic.”
“Nobody’s making you keep yapping,” Anthony said.
He picked up the dullahan once more and drilled into it.
“What are you doing?” Loki asked.
“Working,” Anthony said.
“But it’s… God is resting, today is the Sabbath. We all rest. All angels rest,” Loki said.
“Not this angel,” Anthony replied, “this angel has more work to do than God Almighty.”
“What hubris causes you to think you can do more work than God?” Loki asked.
“Same hubris that tells me to refuse service to a mudpuddle,” Anthony said.
“You can’t-”
“I can,” Anthony snapped, “I’m doing it, right now.”
Loki stood still and stared at Anthony’s hands as he worked. Loki expected Anthony to use The Word to banish him at any moment, to send him flying back to heaven. Anthony continued to work in silence. Loki’s lips parted in realization that Anthony would not banish him.
“You won’t send me away?” Loki asked.
“I figure if Heaven is so boring to you while God is at rest, I shouldn’t force you to leave. You should go. You should definitely leave. But that needs to be your decision. You should really decide to fly back to Heaven, right now, before the Angelic Host awakens to find you gone. They may be at rest, but they only rest for a day. And the day’s almost up.”
The sun descended in the western sky. Loki sat on the floor, his gangly legs spread out in youthful fashion, and watched Anthony.
“Don’t expect me to keep talking or entertain you,” Anthony said, “I’m not God’s babysitter.”
“You needn’t speak, I’m simply watching,” Loki said, “Besides, I’ve had enough of this bastardization of God’s Great Word.”
Anthony shrugged. He assumed the youth would watch until sundown, make it back to Heaven by Sabbath’s end. Anthony carved into the flame-blackened skeleton, leaving white marks of carved bone beneath the black char. He sewed lamellar plates into the holes he'd drilled in the scorched ribcage. Soon, metal plates and rings covered and braced every bone. Anthony worked an elaborate connective brace into the lumbar, thick enough to give the skeleton the appearance of a very thin waist. After much time in silence, the bottom of the sun kissed the horizon and painted the sky with orange streaks. Loki heaved a sigh at the passage of time.
Loki said, “On this point I do agree with you, that mankind uses far too much of The Word to manipulate their reality, and not nearly enough of The Light.”
“So then you might have fallen too, if you were in my shoes,” Anthony said.
“I would hope not,” Loki said, “for I miss His love so much right now.”
“Suck it up,” Anthony spat.
“What?” Loki asked.
“Suck. It. Up,” Anthony repeated, “You can go back to Him anytime you like. You have no idea how I've felt, stuck down here for millenia without Him. It's taking all of my self control and more not to try to keep you down here with me as a substitute for Him.”
“You'd keep me from Him?” Loki asked.
“No,” Anthony said, “but yes. No, I wouldn't keep you from Him against your will. Yes, I would keep you from him against His will.”
“I pray you don't keep me from him, but even so, I think it is wrong, so very wrong, that He left you here, alone,” Loki said.
“Alone? I'm not alone,” Anthony said, “watch this.”
Anthony picked up the forgotten dullahan. He stood the dullahan up, propped upon a sword. He stood back. He breathed fire into its clavicles. The white marks glowed red beneath the skull in a sacred pentagram. Anthony breathed life into his creation, the same way Anthony himself had been breathed into being. The dullahan glowed with eldritch light, flames flickered within the skull to bring light to its eyesockets. It stood upright and lifted it's sword. It knelt before Anthony. Anthony looked to Loki with a smile. Anthony admired the way Loki’s pouting bottom lip stood out in wonder and awe.
“It's beautiful,” Loki said, “but it's so wrong!”
“Well, I have an entire army of 'wrongs' ready to go kick down Heaven's doors,” Anthony said.
“You can't!” Loki cried, “I agree that there is no crueler punishment that God could have given you than to push you from Heaven so fiercely, to deny you even your right to speak to him and beg forgiveness-”
“Nope, never gonna ask for that, there's nothing to forgive me for,” Anthony asserted.
“Yes there is!” Loki hissed, “you've assumed that His creation is base, corrupted beyond measure but you have not been watching them if you truly feel this way!”
“Careful kid,” Anthony said, “All of His creations are base and corrupted beyond measure, even us, even me, especially me. How do you think I granted this guy life? The same corrupted breath we were made with.”
“No, we are His perfect creations, we are perfect just as we are,” Loki challenged.
“Last chance, kid,” Anthony said, “go home before the knowledge I bear corrupts you.”
“I thought you said we were already corrupted, which is it?” Loki spat.
Anthony reached into the dullahan's skull and pulled from it a piece of fruit. The sanguine fruit pulsed in Anthony's fingertips. He presented the fruit to Loki, who stared at it with trepidation, as fear widened the whites of his eyes.
“You know what this is, you've seen into my mind, and maybe their minds, too,” Anthony said.
“The forbidden fruit,” Loki said.
“No, no, you have to be more specific, this is the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, not the fruit of eternal life, they’re both forbidden, but we? We're immortal. We don't need the fruit of eternal life. But this forbidden fruit is a fruit of knowledge. Why do you think this particular fruit is forbidden to us?” Anthony asked.
He crept toward Loki with the fruit, and Loki shied away.
“I-I-I don't know,” Loki said.
“Are you surprised that I'm able to grow this type of thing within a human? Hmm? That it takes root within the mind of a dead man, and bears fruits when life is reignited atop an undying rage? Scare you a little?” Anthony asked.
“I'm scared of falling, like you, I-I came to learn how to keep that from happening, I think I know now,” Loki said.
Loki continually backed away from Anthony. Anthony continually pressed forward.
“You think?” Anthony said, “Then shouldn't you go on home?”
Anthony stopped. Loki stopped. Loki panted through his nose in fear, his eyes darted from the pulsing sanguine fruit to Anthony's amber osprey eyes. Then Loki's eyes darted back again, and again.
“This fruit proves that our creator is absolute, unadulterated evil,” Anthony said, “and for the very fucking life of me, I cannot quit loving him.”
A tear rolled down one of Loki's cheeks.
“Then there's nothing evil or wrong about you,” Loki said.
Anthony smiled at Loki.
“You are testing my patience, kid,” Anthony said, “and you cannot be more wrong. If you stay, if you ask more questions, if you try to touch me one more time, I'm going to defile you, not out of any hostility, really, it's just a side effect. It's a side effect where this food for thought, this corrupted fruit, will grow inside your mind. Do you really think your precious creator is so pure and gracious, and also think he wouldn't leave me down here if neither I, nor He, were evil?”
“I'm not leaving,” Loki said, “not until you can return to Heaven with me.”
“You don't get to make that choice,” Anthony said, “unless you're choosing to stay here for all eternity, in which case if it's all the same to you, I'll defile you right now.”
He tossed the fruit toward Loki, who flinched away from its path. Anthony launched, took to the air, spread his wings, and dive-bombed the taller angel with the practiced ease of a warrior with millinia of experience in fighting his own kindred. He pinned the young angel's back to the ground, pinned his wrists at the sides of his face. Anthony pinned Loki's thin legs down with the weight of his own muscled thighs. Anthony's enormous wings stretched to their sides, creating an M shaped tent above them. Loki lifted his own wings around their bodies, under the protective canopy of Anthony’s own wings. Loki lifted his feathers gently into the arched crooks of Anthony's coverts to press their feathers into each other. Their alulae entwined gently, gripped together in silent agreement.
“Why aren't you scared of this,” Anthony asked.
“This isn't defilement,” Loki said, “There's nothing wrong with this.”
“No?” Anthony challenged.
“No,” Loki asserted.
Anthony huffed, shivered in hope and desire for the first time in over a thousand years. The last rays of orange sunlight poured overed Loki’s blue iris. The sunset mirrored itself upon the surface of his eyes, a reflection of the inevitable deadline for an innocent return to Heaven.
“Dear God your eyes are beautiful,” Anthony said, “your face...”
Anthony trailed off. He held Loki's wrists closer to the side of his face. Anthony's trembling thumbs hovered near the helix of Loki's ears as he stared down at the youth, his porcelain skin, his glossy eyelashes black as pitch, his supple, pink lips. Loki felt the fiery heat of Anthony's breath on his neck. Loki pulled his flight feathers in, pressed them back outward, caressed the underside of Anthony's downy wings with his longest feathers.
“My face?” Loki asked.
Anthony cracked a wide, disbelieving smile that crinkled the crows feet wrinkles at the sides of his cheeks and laughed at himself.
“Is divine,” Anthony said, “I can't believe I'm using that word, but God... God did it, He finally did something right.”
Loki's youthful face softened further in the light of Anthony’s compliment. The pink lips cracked, pushed his perfect cheeks up into an adorable smile. Loki's inner light shone through his eyes, and Anthony's smile dropped.
“Oh no,” Anthony said.
“What?”
“Oh, oh no,” Anthony said.
“What is it, what? Oh!” Loki gasped.
He gasped as Anthony's thumbs found and barely caressed the edges of his ears. Loki lifted his chin toward Anthony's face, and Anthony sank towards him, pushing The Light into Loki's ears as the sun itself abandoned them.
“What is it,” Loki asked.
“It's you,” Anthony said, “It's time, you won't be the same. I want you. I want you and you won't go away.”
“I want you too, Anthony,” Loki said.
Loki said his name in The Light without the tone of corruption. Anthony shook his head. He knew Loki did not understand. Anthony pressed the vision of his fantasies into Loki's mind through the Light.
“I'm going to fuck you until the light of your beautiful eyes shines for Me, and Me alone,” said Anthony.
Loki's body responded by tensing and arching toward Anthony even as it was pinned down. In visions, Loki saw himself on fire, with his head thrown backward, Anthony's mouth covering his adam's apple, Loki's ass in Anthony's hands, Anthony's cock deep inside him, the pair on literal fire as Loki's angel song tore through his being in waves of light. Loki's Light responded; Loki's face glowed, his Light poured onto Anthony. Anthony breathed in Loki's light and flames licked Anthony's skin as though his sweat were made of lighter fluid. Loki closed his eyes, shook his head in an attempt to press more of Anthony's thumbs against his ears, to feel more of Anthony's light press inside him. As his face shook, his light peeked out from around Anthony's hovering face. Anthony's wings flapped with sudden motion and zipped around the two of them.
“No-no, that light is mine, I want that light, the light of your face shall shine only on me, and I shall steal the song of your throat for myself, hidden from the God that made you for Himself, forever.”
Loki shined. His young light shined brighter than the other archangels. Loki planted his feet and lifted his hips until his groin met Anthony's. He pleaded for Anthony to show him more, to take him deeper, deeper. Anthony did so. He wrung the praise and light reserved for God from Loki's flesh. Anthony basked in Loki's light, and for the first time since the fall, had no other craving, no longing for heaven, and no other thought than for God's First Breath to love and be loved by God's Last Breath. Loki, bathed in light and craven want, worshiped Anthony with his breath, his moans, his light, and his ever-fracturing mind. Anthony worshipped Loki in kind, praised his name. Each time Loki heard Anthony's rich voice call his name, his heart pumped deeper into corruption.
“You! You are defiling me,” Loki called out.
“I hate to say I told you so,” Anthony said, “I can stop, God could do me no greater pain, but I can sto-”
“Don't stop!” Loki howled.
Loki pressed his ass against Anthony's hips and bucked wildly, greedy for his continued worship. Anthony agreed not to stop, and their bodies became a mass of howling, writhing flame, corrupted.
“Loki... Loki... Loki!”
