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They were sprawled together on the roof, one of Rathma's legs dangling off the eaves as he propped himself up on one hand. Malthael stretched out behind him. They had taken leave from the festivities below in favor of gentle breezes and quiet skies.
Rathma had snagged a bottle of deep red Caldish wine, and sipped it freely. Occasionally, Malthael reached for it and Rathma handed it over fNot his favorite, but his favorite had stopped existing several thousand years ago. This would suffice.
Both of them savored the pleasant buzz it brought.
In comfortable silence they lounged. Malthael was contentedly tracing star-paths, and finding the ones he'd grown up with in Heaven. It was comforting in a way he couldn't articulate to find them in Sanctuary's sky too.
Rathma was also looking to the stars, but he wasn't so much watching them as he was looking through them.
Out of the blue, Rathma spoke up; "...Can I tell you a secret Malthael?" he lightly asked.
"Of course. I'm quite good with secrets." the angel assured. It seemed silly to keep secrets from your soul-bond anyway. And they didn't call him the silent angel for nothing.
Rathma took another sip from his wine, and hummed to himself.
"I didn't want to be a necromancer." He said it plainly, so casual that it was anything but. "It was always Trag's idea."
"...Oh." Malthael absorbed this. "I didn't want to be the Angel of Death."
"I'm not sure anyone has ever truly wanted anything to do with Death." Rathma sighed. "It is an integral part of life, yet we avoid it at every turn." He frowned lightly, and looked down at the wine in his hand. "Well, most of us anyway."
"What did you want to be?" Malthael asked. He wasn't sure if he liked this strange conversation. It seemed...somehow sad.
Rathma shrugged. "No one I suppose. I was always someone see; Inarius and Lilith's son. The first nephalem. The first necromancer. The last nephalem. The Soul Herder. Commander of the Dead. I don't want to be those things." Suddenly, the nephalem threw himself back to flop next to Malthael. He handed off the wine bottle again. "I'd rather have been some random mortal, living his life and dying his death."
"Oh. I see." At least, Malthael thought he did. "Sometimes, I did not want the burdens of an Archangel. I just wanted to read."
For some reason, that made Rathma burst out laughing.
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I'm so sad that wrestling season is over, I miss it. Being on the mat is the most peaceful sensation ever. No matter how hard life may be, those problems can't get to me in that wrestling mat.
