Chapter Fifty Six
I didn't get very far, and Lucien didn't try to catch me, which I was grateful for. I found myself turning into a little side road, where bushes concealed me from sight. I sank to the ground, letting my tears blind me to everything but my own feelings.
Once my tears had run dry; my feelings numbed. Without thought of what I was going to do next, I stared around me.
I sat at the top of three shallow stone steps, before me there was a pebble road; just visible through the misty air around me. I appeared to be at the edge of some kind of courtyard, surrounded by gothic architectural structures, each standing independently, like Stonehenge. This had to be another vision, as I hadn't noticed any of this when I sat down.
Though I had been tempted to explore, any incentive burnt out as I made out a figure, materialising in the mist. Fear gnawed in the pit of my stomach as the figure strode forward and I began to recognise those features: the tall, hulking build; the beautiful yet terrible face, right down to the hands that had almost destroyed me.
My fear reached its peak when he turned his head to the side and I caught a glimpse of the tattoo behind his ear.
Azrael stepped out of the enshrouding shadows, but it was not the smart, well dressed Azrael I recognised. His shirt was torn; his trousers, moulded to his muscular legs, were ripped almost to shreds. He seemed to walk with a limp in his right leg; his left shoulder hunched forwards, pulling his head forward and down. The most noticeable change to him was the most majestic pair of wings I'd ever seen. Crumpled and broken, the left was bent to an angle that looked unnatural. Silk-like feathers - that should have been set to the massive structures like scales - were crushed. Barbs split apart from the rachis. Azrael's eyes were blackened; his lips purpled and bleeding a little. There was a dark mark along the side of his face, coupled with more, shallower grazes covering his cheek.
But it was his body that bore the worst injuries. He looked brutalised; as if someone had set a pack of dogs upon him, before flogging and crippling him. It was amazing he could still function, walking towards me. I was ready to bolt, but he held out his hand to stop me.
"Mercy," he murmured, "the key to all heaven. Look upon the wretched and be not afraid."
His words once more confused me. I stared up at him, trying to understand him. Last time we had been in such close proximity, he had almost succeeded in killing me - so why wasn't he trying now? I was alone, vulnerable, and easy prey.
But, I realised as the angel Azrael approached, so was he.
"What happened to you?" I found myself asking.
"My punishment for failing," Azrael intoned, mournfully. "These are wounds that you, Mercy Falle, have caused. These gashes you see upon my body are gashes upon my spirit. I will never heal."
"Who did that to you?" I asked him. I briefly considered trying to heal him in the same way I had healed Arielle, but I kept my distance. I didn't want to give him any advantage over me.
"I am sure you already know," Azrael replied, sounding a little bitter. "You, who have betrayed your brothers. You know exactly what you have caused. You knew the Divinus would do this to me."
"All I know is that you've tried to kill me," I retorted, my anger rising. "I think these few meagre scratches are just punishment for your crimes."
Azrael's stared at me, stunned. "You have no idea what you're saying, girl."
"I'm done with the mystery, Azrael," I gritted out. "Not everything has to be cloak and dagger. Who are the Divinus?"
Azrael's look was calculating. "I can say only this much: they are a ruthless group of immortals - no, more than that. They are the original, most high-ranking archangels that were ever created to guard the earth. Their power is second to none but God himself. Their name quakes fear into those who oppose them."
"You are one," I heard the conviction in my own voice as a form of confirmation. Azrael simply inclined his head in assent.
"To an extent - as are you," he answered, "Provided you take the place offered to you."
I shuddered, choosing to ignore his words.
"You are no more human than I am, Mercy," Azrael continued. "You are far more influential. You belong with God, not down here in a world destined to destroy itself."
I suddenly remembered the dream I had, where I had fallen into an abhorrent world; a world filled with more pride than even the devil was reputed to have; a world full of villains, claiming to be righteous.
Azrael refused to let the subject go. "Do you understand the ramifications of the world he wants to create? The world he wants?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I shuddered as the angel took a step closer. He noticed the signs of my fear and sighed regretfully.
"You are afraid of me, aren't you?" He looked pained. "You and I should not be enemies."
I began shaking uncontrollably as he cupped my cheek in his hand. He took that to be his answer. A small, sad smile crossed his face.
"You should not fear me," he murmured. "The worst I can do is killing you - the one you call Lucien would, and will, do far worse."
"I don't want to die," my voice sounded small and plaintive, but Azrael waved away my statement as if it was petty concern; of little significance.
"Fear of death is a human trait," he dismissed it, staring at me with an amused expression. That melted away into concern as I continued to shake. "Death is nothing more than a transition from the physical into the spiritual, Mercy." He took my hands between his, rubbing his thumbs along my fingers: "No matter the means of the execution. Humans may worry about the unknown, but you should not. You were born of the unknown."
"Can you please make sense?" I was desperate now, perplexed beyond all comprehension. I could sense that his words were important, but he might as well have been speaking in tongues for all that I could understand him.
"Just as I was, you were placed on this earth for a purpose," Azrael explained slowly, as if speaking more slowly was all that was needed to make me understand. He searched my face for any reaction. "It is a purpose that no other being has ever been designated. It is for this purpose - this course that God has set for your life - that the Divinus cannot allow you to live."
"What purpose can possibly justify my death?" Exasperation coloured my tone: "Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"You were never intended to enter the physical realm, Mercy. You came from God's hand, and he formed for you a human capsule. You are the bait, to bring the exsuls back to heaven."
"What are exsul?"
Azrael was prevented from answering by the sound of wings above us. We both looked up to see black wings, spanning longer than three men, and dark as the night sky.
"Satan," Azrael hissed at him. I didn't have to look to see who he meant. My stomach dropped, filled with dread and apprehension, even while my traitorous heart skipped a beat in his presence.
"Let her go, Azrael," Lucien bit out. He descended from the sky, landing hard but soundlessly.
Without taking his eyes from me, Azrael responded. His friendly façade dropped; that deadly smile reappeared, causing trembles to take hold of my body.
"Mercy is here of her own accord, not by mine," Azrael shot back. "Fate has dealt her hand."
As Lucien's gaze joined Azrael's, I couldn't decide which one I feared more. Azrael, though injured, looked just as formidable as the devil, standing across from him. I didn't doubt that he would take any advantage he was given to change the odds.
Lucien made the first move, spreading his wings to the full extent, and Azrael mirrored this, before catching the air and flying with such speed towards his opponent that I doubted he had experienced any true pain in his injuries.
Lucien crashed into one of the pillars erected around the tree, but he wasted no time, grabbing Azrael by the shoulder and kneeing him in the stomach. Azrael doubled over, and Lucien grabbed his head, trying to twist his neck until it broke.
The angel fought back, arms trying to grab around Lucien's neck, fingers grappling to find purchase.
I cried out as Azrael's prying hands caught his captor's throat and squeezed, knuckles turning white. Lucien choked, his hands momentarily losing grip on Azrael's jaws, but it was long enough for the angel to twist himself back to his feet and take off, Lucien still caught by the throat.
I lost sight of them the moment they hit the cloud bank, but moments later, Lucien came crashing back down to the ground, creating a noise and force field so great I was almost knocked from my feet. I scrambled upright as quickly as I could, able to see how Lucien's body had crumpled on the ground, his wings and limbs splayed at hideous angles; his body partly concealed by the black wing sticking out and curling over his body. How high was he when he had fallen? Where was Azrael?
That question was answered by the warm breath on the back of my neck, as Azrael wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed tight.
"This shall be the last sight your human eyes see," he jeered as I fought for air. "A fallen angel, fallen once again."
My eyes rolled as I strained to see some form of movement in Lucien. My throat tightened, with help from Azrael, as he didn't move.
"I'm sorry, Mercy," Azrael whispered, as froth began to form at the edge of my mouth and I started blacking in and out of consciousness. Delirium broke through from the sides of my sight and thousands of aura-like forms surrounded Lucien.
My eyes closed, pain ricocheting through my skull, almost like a headache, and by contrast, the feel of Azrael's grip was less constricting, less violent. I could really only feel his thumbs at the side of my neck, digging in painfully, but only my trachea was squashed.
I heard a thud and the squashing sensation ended, Azrael's hands sliding away from my throat.
I dragged in a huge gulp of air, still not quite able to see when I opened my eyes, for all the black dots that danced in front of my eyes.
More thuds followed, and I forced myself to focus, in time to see Azrael pinned to the ground, Lucien's foot against his throat.
"The Divinus were merciful," Lucien choked out, and it was then I saw the gash across his neck, from ear to ear, deep and bloody. Panic struck me, but I had no energy to release it; barely enough energy to sustain it.
"There is really only one way to kill an angel," he continued, staring down at Azrael. "Strangulation, or even tearing out the heart, isn't permanent. That will release the angel from his human vessel, but not kill it. Mortal weapons, too, are not permitted to harm another of my kind."
Lucien glanced up at me, just briefly, and I saw the danger flickering in his eyes. He was gone from me now; all devil - there was nothing left of the boy I had fallen in love with. His eyes were pure black, and his aura swirled with malice and cruelty.
"But the poison to kill an angel is rare, very, very rare... but very, very effective. It will send you to whatever doom the Almighty has created for one of us who has the misfortune to die. I used this poison to kill Deneziel, brother; do you know what I'm talking about, Azrael?"
A grunt was his only reply.
"Good, because I'm going to use it again to kill you, Azrael," Lucien's face lit, and he turned his face away from me, back towards the quaking angel.
I didn't want to watch, but my eyes seemed drawn to the way Lucien's teeth grew long and terrifying, like fangs, but so many of them; all dripping with a venom I could smell from where I stood. I recoiled from the scent; so unnatural and strong I almost gagged on it.
Azrael gurgled out something that might have been a cry of fear or pain. His eyes were plastered to Lucien's teeth, as they inched closer and closer to his face.
Even Azrael's repulsion to the unknown substance wasn't as strong as Lucien's. His face was contorted in unimaginable pain; the same pain he intended to inflict upon Azrael.
I turned my face away as those terrible teeth sank into Azrael's face, his eyes, nose and mouth, deep and long enough to penetrate his skull, and seep into his brain.
Azrael's cries of agonising pain didn't last long, and the silence was damning.