#angeloftheday

Light. Pure light. A laser, focused, slicing through everything. Sun that leaves you blinded, skin burnt. The half-truth that leaves you shattered. The half-lie that sends you to war. Everything and nothing. Gold, and silver, and glistening diamond.

Lucifer was the first wave of angel, most similar to YHWH. Complex, nuanced, and - honestly like most angels - breathtakingly beautiful.

I’m not sure if there is a true story about his fall. I’m not sure if there’s a clear narrative of the war he was the epicenter of. Lots of opinions, though. Mine shifts like the weather. I like to think all of the stories are the true story.

It seems like something he’d like.

I don’t think I interacted with him much before his fall. Like many others, though, I loved him. I didn’t want to. I especially didn’t want to after all the terror and pain he put me through over more recent years. But it’s not something that can be helped. For some, there just seems to be a Lucifer-shaped hole that only he can fill.

(We’re probably all masochists).

Patient only when it suits him; the most impatient angel I know when it doesn’t. Lucifer doesn’t lie. He tells half-truths. He gives half-wishes. Say you’re tired and want a break, he will spark a nervous breakdown. He can twist everything to mean anything he wants it to. And he knows very few limits when it comes to striking low blows.

Avoid him if you can. 

I’m sure he has a soft side, somewhere. I’ve witnessed it. But it’s not the compassionate, empathetic, comforting Lucifer we sometimes encounter. No. That’s just another layer of manipulation.

The soft side of Lucifer is raw. It is wild. Vulnerability isn’t something he can tolerate in himself. He becomes a wounded, cornered animal. And if you think he can do damage when he’s in full control of himself, you don’t want to exist on the same plane as him when he’s not. I have scars from it. 

The absolute silence of falling snow at three in the morning, the moon full and swollen.  The world, suspended. Freezing air chills your lungs and steals your breath and, for the moment, all that exists is all-engrossing, devastating beauty. If you stay, it will destroy you. If you leave, it will haunt you for the rest of your days. 

Sariel was created in one of the earliest waves of angels. The same iteration as Remiel, Zagzagael, and maybe half a dozen others. 

Later became one of the Watchers, going to Earth at the same time as Remiel and several others. His main domain was astrology, and he mostly tried to keep his head low as everything imploded in the ranks and fell apart.

My memory has a large gap here, since this is where we parted ways for a long time. I’m not sure if he went to Hell with the bulk of the Watchers, or if he returned to Heaven. Ultimately, though, he engaged in questionable experiments of the mad scientist variety, and landed himself squarely in Hell. 

He had his own domain there. A snowy landscape. Like many of his brothers, he went a bit mad. You did not want to mess with him. In fact, during this period, you’d be much better off never even thinking of his name. 

We couldn’t be in the same room as each other for more than two minutes before we were literally at each other’s throats. And that’s not a place you wanted to be. I don’t think I’ve ever known someone who could handle a sword as flawlessly as Sariel. He moved like wind, and cut down as if his sword moved in the very space between atoms themselves.

Things eventually shifted, like snow begins to dissipate. Light started to seep into cracks, and healing began - just a teeny, tiny bit. Sariel abdicated his domain. Past hurts started to get addressed. He isn’t as mad anymore, but you still don’t want to pick a fight with him. Sanity is a fragile thing, especially when it’s fresh. And patience was never his strong suit.

And he and I no longer constantly try to kill each other. The dance of intervening in each other’s self-destruction has slowed to a waltz. I remembered him. Remembered being created alongside him, and remembered loving him, and how I forgot him. How I hurt him.