Chapter Text
10 000 years.
He had been in hell for a small eternity.. Hell, he’d been there for two times longer than he had been up in heaven, serving God.
And now he was ready to leave.
Ready to resurface. To reclaim the world. Reclaim Botania from the hands of the God that created it, that created him.
And so he surged.
And he was greeted by light. Not the light of the God that betrayed him, but the warm caress of the sun, the slight chill of a soft breeze and the refreshing dampness of lakeside grass.
Oh, how divine.
And he’ll make it all his.
(And if he swore it to a small, green ball of moss, no one was close enough to hear him do so)
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It took him a month to conquer the people. Technology had gone beyond what he could have ever expected, and so his feats were broadcasted much beyond the eyes of the people before him.
They had erected a throne of crystal and white marble, decorated of luscious greens. A creation fit for a god.
As he looked down at his people, he couldn’t help but wonder;
‘Where is God?’
He had not been stopped. No one was sent his way. No message. No second banishment.
Was he cowering in fear in front of his own creation?
Was he scared of what Ashkariel had become?
It’s lost in these thoughts that he felt the sky split open.
A large, purple rift tearing the calm blue veil.
‘Ah, here They are.’ he thought to himself, rising up and turning to look at the dimensional fracture.
But he didn’t feel them. God didn’t come for him.
“ASHKARIEL”
And he snapped his head back toward the crowd.
That voice.
It took but a moment of searching to find a man with opalescent eyes looking at him, face severe as if looking at a child to be scolded.
“We need to talk. Come.”
And if he didn’t recognise the person before him at the call of his name, the order spoken to him reminded him.
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The short journey to their destination was made in silence. The streets always fell silent as he made his way through them by foot and today was no exception. That is usually why he preferred flying, but since his.. companion.. couldn’t, he walked.
They arrived at a building. Not new, not old. The man before him took out a set of keys and let them in. They walked up one flight of stairs and another door was unlocked, revealing a modest living space. What would be considered the ‘bare minimum’ in this day and age was unpacked. A kitchen with few tools, a small table with two chairs, a bare living room with a couch, an empty bookcase filled with taped boxes.
That’s when the other spoke again.
“Erm, sit wherever you like.. I’ll make some tea.”
Strange. This voice.. didn’t hold the same authority as the one that summoned him back at his altar.
“Mortal-” he couldn’t finish his thought that the man’s energy shifted for a brief moment. It caught him off guard, and so he kept quiet.
The other seemed to have felt it too, he looked tense as prepared the tea. The kettle whistled, water was poured, bags in, and he turned back, two mismatched mugs in hands.
“Oh.. erm, you can sit at the table if you’d like.”
Right. He hadn’t sat down yet.
He took place awkwardly, having to dematerialise his wings to fit on the chair and in the offered space. The soft clank of the mug being placed in front of him brought his eyes back up to the man who sat down and owned the space easily.
“Who are you?” Ashkariel cut straight to the chase. No use in beating around the bush.
“Ah-” the man looked jittery, “You can call me Cú..”
Ashkariel squinted at him.
“And I’m not the one who summoned you back there. I- we swapped somewhere along the way.”
“We?” he asked, staring.
“I call him Féileacán. He’s… kind of a flatmate? If I can say it that way?”
At those words, the familiar energy made its presence known once more. Cú’s face flashed to relief for a fraction of a second before scrunching up, relaxing, and fixing itself into a familiar authoritative glare.
“You’re back.”
“Is that- Azra-"
“Do not speak that name. I abandoned it a long time ago.” He spoke, cutting Ashkariel off.
There were so many questions buzzing in his head.
“Why are you here?” was the one he chose to ask.
“I’ve been here for much longer than you have, Angeling. The real question is; Why are YOU here?”
And oh what a question. For what he remembered of his… companion. This was many questions in one.
“I’m going to take Botania from God."
Féileacán stayed silent, eyes fixed on him. With calculated movements, he picked up his mug of tea and brought it to his mouth. He pressed the edge of the cup to his lower lip as if testing the temperature through the cheap ceramic. He softly blew the wisp of steam from the top and tipped the cup. He took the tiniest sip before deciding the liquid was still too warm and placing the mug back down.
“You’re staring.” Féileacán stated.
“I am” Ashkariel admitted. There was no use in denying it.
He took his own cup and, eyes glued to the other, gulped down the scorching liquid.
He was met with soft features contorting in a mix of disgust and pain.
“You changed”
“Hell will do that to you”
Silence.
So he returned the question again.
“Why are you here?”
“I could answer this in many ways”
“You know the answer I want.”
“God is no more”
This was not the answer he expected. Shock painted his face, eyes rounding as they strayed from the figure before him.
God is no more.
“You were gone for a long, long time, Ash. The world changed.” Féileacán continued, “And, while I don’t know if it was for the best, its current form no longer warrants your wrath and vengeance.”
Ash’s eyes snapped back to the other.
“What do you know about anything? You’ve been here for the ten thousand years I was gone. You were here, living among them, as if nothing was wrong”
“SILENCE”
And he felt the energy around him fizzle out, strands of hair slowly going back down, his halo and wings, which had unconsciously rematerialised, were removed once more.
Ah, he still had him wrapped.
Emotions went through the borrowed face of his old companion. Emotions too raw, too human to be his own. But they settled quickly.
“I thought you were dead.”
This was spoken softly. Too softly.
“I might as well be”
Opalescent eyes focused back on green.
“But you aren’t.” His eyes softened a fraction. But for the man he remembered, this was more vulnerability than he saw in centuries.
“Would you humor me, Ash?” He asked.
The fallen angel squinted at him, but let him continue.
“I haven’t found anyone else since Their end. I thought.. I thought I was alone.”
Ashkariel’s eyes widened slightly, shock flashing across his face for a sliver of a moment.
“I would like to see you again.” Féileacán continued.
He blinked slowly, eyes going down to the mug still in his hand, now cold. He toyed with it for a moment.
“I’ll take a splash of milk in mine next time” he said, getting up.
He didn’t see the smirk on Féileacán’s lips.
“Still a child, I see.”
He warped away before any more words could be exchanged.