thefirstfallen | Legions

Raziel was resting in between the plush pillows and under the covers of the bed in Inanna's temple. His eyes were closed, and his breath was calm and steady. It would have seemed to anyone that he was sleeping as he waited for his bride to return from her errands, if they looked at him, but he was extremely awake, and very alert. He was listening to the wind rustle the large fronds of the palms just outside, and he was working on mentally composing a chapter in a book that he was planning to write when he felt a sharp pang in his soul. Something had occurred. Something, he knew, that would directly affect him. He sat up, languid and rested, and he tried to put his finger on what had happened. It only came to light when he felt a large army of demons nearby. Asmodeus seemed to have been resurrected, and of course, true to what Asmodeus was, he was going to seek vengeance.

How impersonal, thought Raziel, as he walked to one corner of the temple, setting up a ward there. A legion instead of facing him. What a useless show of power. He walked to the next corner, set up the next ward, and did that until each corner glowed with power, making the temple impenetrable to lower level demonic entities. All that could possibly get through were kings of Hell. He settled against a pillar and faced the dunes that would eventually be teeming with demons, arms crossed, looking for the life of him like he was bored out of his skull. Frankly speaking, he sort of was. After all, what was a legion of demons to a being who had been a king of Hell itself for hundreds of years prior to hs return to his angelic self?

Finally, the rampaging mob arrived and realized that they couldn't penetrate the wards. One of the demons, it was the General - a gruff-voiced bovine entity with far too much political grooming - spoke up, "Hey uh, are you the entity known as uh,"

"Raziel?" Helped the fallen angel, pushing off the pillar, and walking up to the demon, still out of range of him, and still in the protective force.
"Yeah, that, you uh. You sure don't look like an angel. Ain't all, uh. You know. Holy light, an' all that." The demon pointed out.
"Would it help if I let my wings out?" Raziel said with a chuckle, letting his two sets of wings go corporeal. It got some of the lesser creatures to get uneasy. The general seemed to be fairly impressed.
"Yeah, okay, uh, that's nice. Look," the general grumbled, "We got orders to destroy you and all that's important to you."
"I know, it's because I killed Asmodey a few months ago. Frankly, this is between he and I, and he's being a big baby about it. And since I'm technically still Mephistopheles, the King of the Malebolge, I outrank him and you, and I really should let you guys know that it isn't necessary."
"Wait, you're Mephistopheles?" The General sounded incredulous. "When'd you go all..." There was a pause that indicated to Raziel that the demon was rolling his hand - or hoof - to try and fish for a word.
"Not your business. As your superior, I command you to return back to Hell. If Asmodey asks, tell him to take it up with me himself." Raziel said with a brief, but cold smile. The General turned to his legion of soldiers, and the soldiers all seemed to take Raziel's word for it.
"Well fine," the General said, "We'll do that today, but if he starts bein' all highfalootin' about it, it'll be on your head."
"I'm so fucking worried," Raziel grumbled and with a wave of his hand, he opened up another portal to the Pit for the army to go back in. "Get out of here before my wife gets pissed that you're messing up her marble walkways."
"Yessir."

So if Asmodey was going to play warlord, two could play that game. He'd do the same with every legion that Asmodey sent his way. They were clearly the least bright demons in existence, so there was that. He walked back to the bedroom, sprawled back into the bed, and sighed. Once his brother-in-law came to talk to him face-to-face, things would be different, clearly, but this whole vengeance thing wasn't particularly fruitful for either of them, and they both knew it. They could come to an agreement somehow, between being both extremely tired of friction between their warring factions, and both of them being fairly friendly, despite the fact that there was always latent animosity. They were often far too alike, for being so dissimilar.