No one on earth was supposed to hear him. Father was not listening, and so the world was to not be listening. And despite this there was one, and Father did not notice, but I did. There was one, and I worried for him. I worried for the humanity of those creatures, and so I worried for him. Humanity could be cruel.

This one, though, did not behave like a part of humanity at all. Humans, all that We had communed with, had been terrified of Us in Our devine form. They had fled and cowered in fear of Us before We assured them of Our presence with Father, and that We would do them no harm. This one had bent down before him, and cocked his head; he spoke softly.

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a blade, then again into his satchel as he held the blade in his opposite hand. He then pulled out a pomegranate, cutting it into sections. Finished, he wiped the blade on his pant leg, and returned it to the satchel. Then, slowly, he reached out and touched Our Morning Star’s hand. He recoiled in pain, and the man retracted his hand.

He spoke softly, “My name is Kore, I mean you no harm. May I give you something? Hold out your hand.” Our Morning Star obliged, tentatively extending his hand. Kore lightly placed a segment of the pomegranate in his hand. His palm burned at the touch, and without his sight Our Morning Star was unable to identify the gift.

The man did not stop there, he took one of the segments of pomegranate in his own hand, and pulled a few seeds from it. He then raised those seeds to Our Morning Star’s lips. He flinched, not expecting the burning contact.

“It’s okay,” Kore reassured him, “Open your mouth.” He did so, knowing that any moment this kind man could turn on him, torture him, as he was no longer under the protection of his divinity. He felt the seeds burn his lips, and the inside of his mouth, surprised when the taste overpowered the pain of eating it.

“Pomegranate,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and barely audible. When he had finished the seeds Kore had fed him, he reached for the segment in his own hand, pulling more seeds and slowly bringing them to his mouth.

“Mm,” the man replied, “my family has many pomegranate trees.” He sat down beside Our Morning Star. “Forgive me, but who are you?” he asked, cocking his head once again.

“Some...call me Lu...cif...er,” Our Morning Star answered tentatively.

“The divine,” Kore responded thoughtfully.

“No. I have betrayed the Father,” he replied. Kore raised an eyebrow.

“I never imagined an angel to look this way,” he said, finally, after several moments’ silence.

“They do not,” Lucifer replied, still mourning his loss. “I am not among them, not anymore.”

“We were always taught you would look like us, with a ring of light behind you, and wings like a dove, but you don’t look anything like us at all. You have no eyes, no wings, and…” He trailed off. Lucifer knew what it was he must be staring at in the silence that followed.

“I did have wings, eyes, but I imagine they would have frightened you. As for this,” He reached up and touched the protrusions from either side of his head that once connected, “it was my halo. I would have frightened you, but I was beautiful.”

Kore fiddled with the rind of the pomegranate. “That part wasn’t taken from you,” he said matter-of-factly, “You’re still beautiful.”

“I am a devil now, the most lowly of creatures,” Lucifer swifty replied.

“Just what was this betrayal against the Father? What did you do that made him cast you down from the heavens?” Kore questioned, his head lilting to one side.

“I wanted more for humanity…” His voice broke a little as he replied.

“That’s… kind of you,” Kore murmured. “You shouldn’t be punished for your kindness.” Lucifer was silent.

They sat in silence for a few moments, then Kore realized Lucifer was shivering. It was a strange sensation, it burned but it was so cold.

“Would you like to go someplace warmer?” Kore asked softly. Lucifer thought for a moment, then said, “Please.”

“Do you need help to stand?” He didn’t want Kore to see him as completely helpless, so he tried to stand on his own, but to his chagrin, he couldn’t. Pain shot through his feet, up his legs, like he had just leapt onto a pile of broken glass and salts, and he collapsed onto his hands and knees. “Okay,” Kore said soothingly, “I will help you up. I’ll touch your arm, and then you can wrap it around my neck. I will support you. You won’t fall,” Lucifer hesitated, then nodded slowly.

The touch on his arm burned, as he had expected, and he tensed up.

“I am sorry, I know it hurts,” Kore said. Lucifer only whimpered as his arm was draped over Kore’s shoulders, and he was hoisted into a standing position. How pathetic, he thought, that he had been Father’s favorite, and couldn’t even withstand His punishment. He couldn’t even reply as he was practically carried out of the woods by the man. By the time they approached the man’s cabin, he was weak and exhausted from the pain, and was barely able to make it across the threshold before the pain took over and everything went black.