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Dec. 20th, 2010 05:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thefirstfallenWhen he awoke, it was as if he'd been asleep for several lifetimes. He was weak, his body was sore and felt atrophied, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Raziel opened his eyes to no avail, and it reminded that he was no longer human. Was he ever? He couldn't rightly remember. It felt as if the past thousands of years were a dream. But what he did feel, oddly, was the presence of his older brother.
"Relax, you need to stay still," Raziel heard the gentle, soothing voice of Azrael, and he could make out that he was in a bed, in a room that was wider than it was long, to his perspective. He knew Azrael was to his right, near a large counter or desk of some sort. His work desk? But then, he heard the soft padding of bare feet, and the faint swishing of water in a glass as Azrael made his way to the bed's side, and sat down beside him.
"Drink this, my dear brother." While Raziel didn't specifically need to drink or eat, he knew that the water would help his dry, chapped lips and parched throat. He felt the glass at his lips and he drank deeply, and he moved his hand to Azrael's knee, whimpering at the sensation that his arm was still stiff and pained. He felt bruised. Like he'd fallen once again.
He finished the water and tried to speak, his voice soft and hoarse, "What's happened to me?" He squeezed Azrael's knee, needing some amount of stability in the sea of confusion and endless questions. Why did he feel so unburdened? Why did he feel so powerless? So sore, so... young and drearily not like himself? Had he dreamed the past thousands of years? What a nightmare it would have been, if so.
Azrael lifted Raziel's hand from his leg to his face and placed it on his cheek, giving Raziel the chance to 'see' his brother's face. "You've been trapped inside your own sins, inside a being that was not you. What is the last thing you remember as real?" Raziel could feel the moving lips under his palm and could hear the sadness in his brother's voice. He had to consider it, shaking his head, his neck stiff and groaning in its own pain of movement. What was real? Was everything a dream? Was this?
"I fell, and then I walked. I walked for what seems to be forever, through the deserts, to the border of our lands... I was heading to Olympus, to speak to Athena, to gain insight into this mortal realm. I was in the Persian empire, in Ashur, speaking to an army of men about the glory of battle. I'd given their commander the plans for a pincer attack in effort to take... to overtake the invading armies of the north." He slipped his hand away from Azrael's face and rubbed his own. "But that cannot be the last thing. It's been so long since then. Three and a half thousand years..."
"It's been very long since then, Raziel." Azrael confirmed, setting the glass aside, taking his brother's hands, mindful of the claws that were still there. He kissed Raziel's knuckles and smiled against them. "Athena never did see you, to my knowledge. You fell farther, became... an agent of opposition."
"A demon, Azrael, you don't have to sugarcoat it," Raziel said, curiously passive, "It feels like a dream, a hazy cloud of misconception, another being's thoughts. Was it... is it all true?" His brow furrowed as he shook his head. "All of it? The travel to the Turkish empire, the kingdom... Danielle? Ariel? Kokabiel and... And all of it?"
"Yes," Azrael sighed, and slipped away. "He's here now, your heir. He's been here, just downstairs, with miss Astarte. He worries about you. You, for better or worse, were his teacher, and through that haze, you shone through at times. You could speak to him." Suggested Azrael.
"No, I cannot do that," Raziel said immediately, "I... I cannot even begin to think of what I'd say. I cannot apologize for what happened. It would do no good."
"It could do more good than you'd imagine, I think," Azrael said, his voice giving away the small, hopeful smile on his face.
Raziel sighed. "Give me time. I..."
"You need your rest. You've had a rough few hundred years. Rest now. You may call to us when you need us." Azrael said as he slipped out the door.
Raziel laid his head back down on the plush pillow and despite the pain it caused, he wrapped his arms around himself, his wings folding over his body like a cocoon. How could he atone for the sins against Mankind? He could feel the tears sting his eyes and roll down his cheeks. It was in sorrow, in hopelessness, but not in self pity. All those souls he'd destroyed! The pain of what he'd become had weighed him down, but the tears felt freeing. He made a silent vow, as he cried, that all would be put right. No one being could set things back to how they'd been before his self destruction, but he felt he could trust Ariel to help him set things back on the right path.
"Relax, you need to stay still," Raziel heard the gentle, soothing voice of Azrael, and he could make out that he was in a bed, in a room that was wider than it was long, to his perspective. He knew Azrael was to his right, near a large counter or desk of some sort. His work desk? But then, he heard the soft padding of bare feet, and the faint swishing of water in a glass as Azrael made his way to the bed's side, and sat down beside him.
"Drink this, my dear brother." While Raziel didn't specifically need to drink or eat, he knew that the water would help his dry, chapped lips and parched throat. He felt the glass at his lips and he drank deeply, and he moved his hand to Azrael's knee, whimpering at the sensation that his arm was still stiff and pained. He felt bruised. Like he'd fallen once again.
He finished the water and tried to speak, his voice soft and hoarse, "What's happened to me?" He squeezed Azrael's knee, needing some amount of stability in the sea of confusion and endless questions. Why did he feel so unburdened? Why did he feel so powerless? So sore, so... young and drearily not like himself? Had he dreamed the past thousands of years? What a nightmare it would have been, if so.
Azrael lifted Raziel's hand from his leg to his face and placed it on his cheek, giving Raziel the chance to 'see' his brother's face. "You've been trapped inside your own sins, inside a being that was not you. What is the last thing you remember as real?" Raziel could feel the moving lips under his palm and could hear the sadness in his brother's voice. He had to consider it, shaking his head, his neck stiff and groaning in its own pain of movement. What was real? Was everything a dream? Was this?
"I fell, and then I walked. I walked for what seems to be forever, through the deserts, to the border of our lands... I was heading to Olympus, to speak to Athena, to gain insight into this mortal realm. I was in the Persian empire, in Ashur, speaking to an army of men about the glory of battle. I'd given their commander the plans for a pincer attack in effort to take... to overtake the invading armies of the north." He slipped his hand away from Azrael's face and rubbed his own. "But that cannot be the last thing. It's been so long since then. Three and a half thousand years..."
"It's been very long since then, Raziel." Azrael confirmed, setting the glass aside, taking his brother's hands, mindful of the claws that were still there. He kissed Raziel's knuckles and smiled against them. "Athena never did see you, to my knowledge. You fell farther, became... an agent of opposition."
"A demon, Azrael, you don't have to sugarcoat it," Raziel said, curiously passive, "It feels like a dream, a hazy cloud of misconception, another being's thoughts. Was it... is it all true?" His brow furrowed as he shook his head. "All of it? The travel to the Turkish empire, the kingdom... Danielle? Ariel? Kokabiel and... And all of it?"
"Yes," Azrael sighed, and slipped away. "He's here now, your heir. He's been here, just downstairs, with miss Astarte. He worries about you. You, for better or worse, were his teacher, and through that haze, you shone through at times. You could speak to him." Suggested Azrael.
"No, I cannot do that," Raziel said immediately, "I... I cannot even begin to think of what I'd say. I cannot apologize for what happened. It would do no good."
"It could do more good than you'd imagine, I think," Azrael said, his voice giving away the small, hopeful smile on his face.
Raziel sighed. "Give me time. I..."
"You need your rest. You've had a rough few hundred years. Rest now. You may call to us when you need us." Azrael said as he slipped out the door.
Raziel laid his head back down on the plush pillow and despite the pain it caused, he wrapped his arms around himself, his wings folding over his body like a cocoon. How could he atone for the sins against Mankind? He could feel the tears sting his eyes and roll down his cheeks. It was in sorrow, in hopelessness, but not in self pity. All those souls he'd destroyed! The pain of what he'd become had weighed him down, but the tears felt freeing. He made a silent vow, as he cried, that all would be put right. No one being could set things back to how they'd been before his self destruction, but he felt he could trust Ariel to help him set things back on the right path.
